#i am going to need to add an eye trauma tag for the current chapter

[skeleton-in-a-hoodie]

Me whilst planning The Whole Being Dead Thing: And just a sprinkling of body horror.

Me, actually writing it: Hmm, just a little bit more *lid falls off the body horror spice bottle and most of it falls into the pan* ... I'm sure he'll be fine

[khoicesbyk]

The Royal Romance.

Forevermore.

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

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

Current Word Count: 6,400 words. (may be slightly more or may be slightly less. Look, I stop counting after editing and re-editing and driving myself insane. 🤷🏾‍♀️)

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

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

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

Tag List: @choicesficwriterscreations

TW: mentions of child cancer, child death, trauma, mentions of murder. READER DISCRETION IS STRONGLY ADVISED!

Chapter 6.) Auld Lang Syne. Part two.

On the ride home, Shanelle’s mind raced. Her daughter was in pain and in the hospital and she was helpless to stop any of it. She hated feeling helpless. Especially when her daughter needed her most. Her thoughts were disrupted when her phone rang. It was Nina. 

“Hello?”

“What the hell?” Nina asked. 

“What? What is it?” Shanelle replied. 

“What is this I just read about Khari being in the hospital?!” 

Shanelle took a deep breath. 

“What's wrong?” Nina asked.

“After we got back from Paris, Khari started to not feel good. She was throwing up, feeling lethargic, and had stomach pains and initially, we just thought it was a bad stomach bug. Until her fever spiked last night.” Shanelle replied. 

“Oh my God!”

“We called her doctor and she suggested that we bring her to the ER earlier and after running tests it was determined that her appendix ruptured.” 

“How?! She's only six!”

“I don't know Nina. I don’t know.” Shanelle said as her voice cracked. 

“Oh my God. Don't cry, sweetie. It'll be okay.”

“I can't do this. I am trying to be strong but I can't. My baby is in the hospital. And there's nothing I can do to just make it all go away.” Shanelle said as she started to cry. 

Nina nodded resolutely. 

“I have a few meetings this week but come Thursday I am on a plane to you.”

“No Nina, no! You can't just leave your family.”

“You are my family you dope!” Nina snapped at her. 

“What did you just call me?” Shanelle asks. 

“You heard me, Princess!” Nina replied. 

“Go to hell, Dalton!” Shanelle hissed. 

The two laughed. 

“You know you and Khari and my sweet Princes are all my family.” 

“Nina…”

“Nope! Not gonna hear it. If the roles were reversed you'd move heaven and earth for me. So make sure my room is ready. I'll be there soon. Where are the boys?”

“With my parents.”

“Good. And please don't worry. My Princess will be just fine. Look at who her mother is.”

Shanelle smiled as she dried her eyes. 

“Thank you. I love you.”

“I love you too. I'll see you soon.”

When Shanelle finally got back to the palace, she was greeted by a warm hug from her father. 

“It's alright my darling. Everything will be okay,” he said to her.

Shanelle buried her face into his shoulder. 

“I know Daddy. I just hate this. I hate feeling like this.”

“I know you do. Remember when you were 11 and you broke your arm?”

Shanelle chuckled softly. 

“Yeah, I remember.”

“And I raced through the streets trying to get you to the hospital?”

“Yeah. I even remember you being very rude to the staff there.”

“Listen, in my defense, my daughter was a Princess at the time, and as a Prince, I was not about to just sit around in a waiting room all damn day waiting for a bed to open up.” 

Shanelle shook her head with a smile. 

“The whole time they worked on you, I was terrified. I just wanted to take your pain away. I wanted to make you better myself. But I couldn't. I had to trust the doctors and your mother. Because I didn't know everything like I always thought I did.” 

“You still don't,” Shantel added as she walked up.

“Mom has a point.”

Damien cut his eyes at his wife and daughter. 

“Watch it!” he hissed. 

Shantel snickered before hugging her daughter. 

“My poor butterfly. How is she doing?” Shantel asks. 

“She was hungry when I left but other than that braver than I will ever be,” Shanelle replied. 

“I know people have said this to you but it will be okay. My sunshine will be okay.”

Shanelle nodded. 

“Where are the boys?” she asks. 

“Watching cartoons with Margo,” Shantel replied. 

Shanelle nodded.

“Have you eaten my darling?” Damien asked. 

“No, not yet,” Shanelle replies. 

“Go get something to eat. And your mother and I will bring the boys to you afterward.”

“Okay.”

After spending the day with her boys and putting them to bed, Shanelle returned to the hospital with all of Khari’s favorite things and a change of clothes for her husband. 

“Okay while Daddy is in the bathroom changing, here’s Dagon, your Galaxy pillow, your headphones, your Switch, and the charger for it. As well as Daddy’s business backpack with his laptops.”

“Yay! Thank you, Mommy! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” 

“You're welcome, baby. Now what is that?” Shanelle asked, pointing to the pizza boxes in the corner. 

“Daddy ordered pizza from our favorite place,” Khari replied. 

“The place with amazing garlic knots and wings?” 

“Yeah. I made sure Daddy saved you some. How are the boys?” Khari asks. 

“They're good. I don’t think they understand what's going on but they did go looking for you.”

Khari smiled. 

“I miss them.”

“I know you do. You'll see them soon.”

“I know.”

That's when Marquise came out of the bathroom with a stretch. 

“There's my two favorite girls.”

“What about Grammy?” Khari asked. 

“She's my third favorite girl,” he replies. 

Shanelle snickered. 

“Good save, Your Majesty. There's your bag,” she said pointing to his backpack. 

“Thanks love. Want some pizza?” he asks. 

“Sure. Just one thing, why would you order pizza when there's an entire mall food court of a cafeteria downstairs?”

Marquise shrugged. 

“I wanted wings. They didn't have wings downstairs.”

Shanelle shook her head while grabbing a few slices of pizza and some wings. 

“I love this place!” she said in between bites. 

“I know that's why I ordered from them. It was a big order.”

“What do you mean?” she asked. 

“I ordered for the floor. The staff deserves it and it'll take some of the pressure off of the parents.”

Shanelle rolled her eyes goodnaturedly. 

“You're such an overachiever.”

“Pot meet kettle.”

“What else did you two do while I was gone?” she asked. 

“We watched Disney,” Khari replies. 

“All your favorites?”

“Yup. All my favorites.” Khari replied. 

“Twice.” Marquise deadpanned. 

Shanelle snorted. 

“You poor thing. You had to suffer the curse of Disney.” she teased him. 

Marquise stuck his tongue out at his wife. 

“And you call me childish.”

“You are childish,” he said to her before taking a bite of his slice of pizza. 

That's when there was a knock at the door. It was Nadia. 

“Hello! Hello!”

“Hi, Nadia!” Khari said in greeting. 

“I wanted to stop by and check on my patient before I went home. How are you feeling sweetie?” she asked Khari. 

“Better. The medicine has helped a lot,” she replied. 

“Good very good. Have you been able to eat and keep it down?”

“Yes.” 

“Wonderful. Now remember, no more food after midnight okay?” 

“Yes ma'am.”

“Good girl. And how are the parents?” Nadia asked. 

“Coping,” Shanelle replies. 

Nadia chuckled. 

“I'm sure you are. You’re doing a great job, my niece. And as for you my nephew, what's this I hear about buying pizza for the whole floor?”

Marquise shrugged. 

“It was a good idea.”

Nadia shook her head with a smile. 

“Your mother did the same thing when you had your tonsils taken out.”

“Like mother, like son.” Shanelle quipped. 

“Indeed.” Nadia replied to Shanelle before turning to Khari, “Now let me take a quick listen to you, sweetheart.”

Nadia gave Khari the once-over. 

“Well now that I've seen my patient and she seems to be doing fairly well. I'll see you three in the morning. We have a big day tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Nadia.” 

Nadia smiled at him. 

“Always nephew. I'll see you tomorrow.”

An hour after Nadia left, Khari had dozed off. Leaving her parents to watch over her as she slept. 

“She's so brave,” Shanelle said quietly. 

“So are you my Queen. Don't ever forget that.”

“I've been a wreck for hours barely holding myself together. That's not strength.”

“It's not a weakness either. It just means you’re human and a mother.”

He intertwined the fingers of her right hand with his.

“I know none of this has been easy on you, it's hard to just sit back and watch but you've been so strong. Even when you don't think you have.”

Shanelle smiled softly. 

“How do you do that?”

“Years of practice. It's the one part of my brain that I can't shut off.”

Marquise looked at their sleeping daughter. 

“Here. Come with me.”

“Where are we going?” 

“Just for a walk around the floor. It'll do us both some good to clear our heads.”

She smiled at him before they both walked out the door. As they walked the hall, they smiled and waved at the many nurses and other staff on the floor. When they got back to the room, Shanella was feeling a little bit better.

“Thank you for that. I needed it.”

“You're welcome. So did I.”

Shanelle looked at their sleeping daughter with a sad smile. 

“Look at her. She's so precious. Such a fighter. And God is she so brave. She's ready for tomorrow.”

“And we will be too,” he said as he kissed her ear. 

“Yes, we will,” she said with a yawn. 

“You should go home and get some sleep.”

“Are you sure you want to stay by yourself?”

“My love, my job as King isn't to just look after and care for our kingdom. My job is to look after and care for our daughter. I'll be fine.”

“That chair is not gonna be good for your back.”

“I'll be alright.”

“Okay,” she said before kissing him softly. 

“I'll see you in the morning.”

“Alright. What time is the surgery again?”

“9:00 AM.”

“I'll be here at 7:30 AM.” 

Marquise chuckled. 

“Okay. I'll see you tomorrow.”

Shanelle nodded before she left. Afterward, Marquise sat next to his daughter's bed and watched her as she slept. He moved a strand of hair from her face. 

“You are the bravest, most precious little girl, my little love. You have faced this head-on and at the ready. I'm so proud of you. I love you.” he whispered before kissing her cheek softly and going to sleep. 

The next day was the day of Khari’s surgery and Their Majesties were nervous but thankful for Dr. Cormier and the nurses that were there. 

“Good morning! It's good to see you all in good spirits.” Dr. Cormier said to the royals before addressing Khari, “And a very good morning to you Princess. I thank you for being here and for your bravery. And I promise you this will go very smoothly.”

“Thank you, Dr. Cormier,” Marquise replied. 

That's when Nadia walked into the OR prep room. 

“Good morning! Good morning! Judging by the way Her Majesty is clutching that stuffed dragon I know the two of you are nervous, but I promise you both my niece is in the best hands.” Nadia said to them, “Now Princess are you ready?”

“Yes, Aunt Nadia. I'm ready.” Khari replied. 

“Alright. Let's get going.” Dr. Cormier said, “Now sadly Your Majesties you would have to wait in the waiting room. But I promise this surgery won't take long.” 

They both nodded.

“Now it's time to say see you later,” Nadia said to Khari. 

Khari nodded. 

“See you later Mommy. See you later Daddy.” 

“We’ll see you later my love,” Marquise said to her before kissing her cheek. 

Shanelle kissed her daughter's forehead. 

“I love you, baby.”

“Love you too Mommy.”

Shanelle and Marquise watched as Khari was wheeled out of the OR Prep Room before heading to the waiting room. As they got there Lady Selene was arguing with a man. 

“Why are you even here?!” she asked the man. 

“I'm here because my daughter is here. No thanks to you!”

“Oh, now you want to be a father?! After all these years of you being absent?! NOW you want to show up for Elena?” 

“What is the meaning of this?” Marquise asked, catching them both off guard. 

“Oh! Your Majesty! I apologize for my outburst.” Lady Selene replies. 

“What's going on my Lady?” Shanelle asks. 

Selene took a deep breath. 

“Elena is in surgery right now. And this pompous ass thinks he's going to take her out of it!” 

“And who are you?” Marquise asked the man. 

“Lord Phillip Charroux. I am Elena’s father. And I have every right to be here.” Lord Charroux replied. 

Selene let out a shaky breath. 

“What he's not telling you is that he walked out on me and my daughter when she was diagnosed.” 

“What this trollop means is I moved on with my life.” 

“And left me to raise our daughter alone!” she hissed at him. 

Shanelle could tell Lady Selene was visibly upset. 

“Is that Elena’s?” Shanelle asked, pointing to the penguin in Lady Selene’s arms. 

“Yes. It's her favorite toy. My aunt and uncle gave it to her after her first round of chemo at a year old. I assume that stuffed dragon is the Princess's favorite.”

Shanelle nodded. 

“My Lady. Why don't you and I have a seat?” she asked her. 

“Gladly,” she replied as they sat down. 

Marquise raised an eyebrow at Lord Charroux.

“Is what she said true?” he asked him. 

“Your Majesty, with all due respect, it's none of your business.” Lord Charroux replied. 

“My Lord, that's not the question I asked you.” 

Lord Charroux let out an exasperated sigh. 

“Yes, my King. I left.”

“Why?” Marquise asks. 

“Because!” the Lord replies. 

“You're testing my patience, my Lord.” 

“He left because according to him he couldn't be seen with a cripple for a daughter.” Lady Selene spoke up. 

“Is this true?” Marquise asks. 

“Not in so many words but yes. But I’m here now, that has to count for something.” Lord Charroux replied. 

“How long have you been out of the home?” Shanelle asked. 

“I moved out three weeks after Elena was diagnosed.” Lord Charroux replied. 

“So you've been separated all these years?” Shanelle asks. 

“Yes.”

“Have you contributed to any of your daughter's medical costs?” 

Lord Charroux stuttered. 

“Your Queen asked you a question, my Lord. I suggest you answer it.” Marquise warned him. 

“No, I haven't contributed anything towards her medical costs.” Lord Charroux finally replied. 

“Have you at any point been Elena’s caretaker?”

“No. I haven't. I wouldn't know the first thing about it. But I am still her father!” 

“That may be true, but since you haven't bothered to be around her at all since her diagnosis, you have no right to make any medical decisions for a child you abandoned,” Shanelle said to him. 

“But!” he protested. 

Marquise had heard enough. 

“Guards!” he called out to the guards, “You can escort Lord Charroux off the premises.”

“You can't do that!” 

“As the one bankrolling this hospital, yes I can. Now your time here is over. So please don't make this any more painful than it needs to be.”

The Lord sputtered as he was led away by guards. Marquise took a seat next to his wife and Lady Selene. 

“Thank you both. Neither one of you really knows me but your kindness is immeasurable to me,” she said tearily. 

“How did you two meet if you don't mind my asking?” Marquise asked. 

“We met through Lord Tariq at a charity cricket match. They were good friends. He was very charming when we met. I never knew the kind of snake he truly was until we got married.” Lady Selene replies. 

Shanelle shuddered. 

“I’m so sorry,” she said to Lady Selene. 

Lady Selene smiled softly. 

“Our marriage was always rocky. But when I got pregnant I thought he would change. I thought having our daughter would save us, especially our marriage. Because at one point in my life, I did love him. I loved him dearly. But it wasn't enough. My daughter and I weren't enough for him.” 

“Why haven't you gotten a divorce?” Marquise asks. 

Lady Selene let out a shaky breath. 

“Because we live on Comery Isle and he is the Financier for the island. Divorcing him would ruin me. I wouldn't be able to care for my daughter. Because he would certainly try to use his influence to take all of my family’s money.” Lady Selene replied. 

“Of course, he would! He's nothing but a no-good bastard!” a woman’s voice hissed. 

When they all looked up an elderly woman was standing at the entrance of the waiting room. 

“Your Majesties, please meet my mother Countess Gladys Archambeau-De Michele.” Lady Selene said to the royals. 

Marquise chuckled. 

“Hello, Countess. It's been a long time since we've seen each other.” 

Countess De Michele smiled.

“Indeed it has Your Majesty. The last time I saw you, you and your friends had let a horse loose in the palace.”

Marquise winced. 

“Yeesh! You were there that day weren't you?” he asked. 

“Yes sire. Your mother was hosting tea when the horse came barreling down the hall and the guards were seen running after the poor animal,” she replied. “It is good to see you again. And I can't thank you and Her Majesty enough for your kindness to my daughter and granddaughter and especially to my brother and his family.”

“It's nothing. I'm just sorry I didn't know about it sooner. I will speak to your nephew and see if we can't resolve this issue.” 

“Again, I thank you for what all you two have done. While I know some of these nobles still take issue with how you both rule the kingdom, I do not and neither does my daughter. You both have our loyalty. Even when you don't have theirs.” Counties De Michele said to them both. 

After 2 ½ hours of waiting Nadia and Dr. Cormier came into the waiting room.

“Well?” Shanelle asked. 

“Her surgery was successful. She did great.” Dr. Cormier replied. 

Shanelle breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Thank God,” Marquise said in relief.

“Indeed. Right now she's asleep in post-op and then will be taken back to her room.” Nadia said to them both. 

“Good. Thank you both so much.” Marquise said to them. 

“Of course, nephew. If you two want to go back up to her room, feel free.”

“Thank you, Nadia. And to you too Dr. Cromier.” Shanelle said gratefully. 

Both bowed before leaving. Shanelle let out a sigh of relief. 

“I’m happy for both of you and for the Princess. I do wish her a speedy recovery.” Lady Selene said to them. 

“Thank you, my Lady. Do let us know how Elena’s surgery goes.” Shanelle said to her. 

“I will do that.” Lady Selene said with a smile. 

20 minutes after Shanelle and Marquise got back to Khari’s room, she was wheeled in. Still groggy from the anesthesia.

“Mommy?” she asked groggily. 

“Hey, baby. How do you feel?” 

“Sleepy. Where's Daddy?” she asked. 

He lightly tapped her on the shoulder before kissing her forehead softly. 

“Right here my love,” he whispered to her as he took her hand in his. 

“Did you have to wait long?” Khari asked. 

“No, not too long. We even sat with your friend Elena’s mom and grandmother.” Shanelle replied. 

“I hope I get to see her again before we go home.”

“We hope so too sweetie,” Shanelle said to her. 

“In the meantime. You need your rest, my love.”

“Okay, Daddy,” Khari said before slowly going back to sleep. 

The parents took turns watching over Khari. Making sure she was comfortable even watching Lion King again. Much to His Majesty’s chagrin, he and his wife even sang. He was Timon and she was Pumbaa. 

“I can see what's happening.”

“What?”

“And they don't have a clue!”

“Who?” 

“They'll fall in love and here's the bottom line, our trio’s down to two.”

“Oh…”

“The sweet caress of twilight. There's magic everywhere and with all this romantic atmosphere…disaster’s in the air!”

“And if he falls in love tonight. It can be assumed.”

“His carefree days with us are history.”

“In short our pal is dooooooooomed!” 

Khari clapped at her parent's performance. 

“That was very good. I loved it. Thank you.”

The next day Khari was feeling much better. She spent the day talking to her cousins in California and even video-chatted with Elena and then with her brothers and grandparents. All of it brought a smile to her face.

Later that night after Khari had gone to sleep, Marquise caught his wife face-first on her phone.

“Who are you texting?” he asked. 

“Nina. I told her Khari’s surgery was today so she is demanding updates on the Princess,” she replied. 

“She knows?”

“Yeah. She called me after the first statement went out about Khari being in the hospital. So get ready, Your Majesty, we are hosting the Dalton Family.”

“I'll text Bannon and let him know to prepare rooms for our guests.”

“Thank you.” 

After two days in the hospital, Khari was cleared to go home and no one was more relieved than her mother. When they got back to the palace, the Princess was greeted by her brothers. 

“Hi, boys! I've missed you both so much!” she said as she hugged them. 

The Princess spent her first night at home surrounded by her brothers, her four-legged friends, and all her favorite things. Just the way she liked. That night as she slept, her mother quietly kept watch over her. 

“You know I used to do this with you.” her father told her as he quietly entered Khari’s bedroom and sat down next to Shanelle. “Whenever I couldn't sleep, I would go check on you when you were sleeping. Just to make sure you were okay.”

“I know. I used to hear you come in.” 

“I did it because I wanted to remind myself that you were real and you’re safe and home.”

Shanelle chuckled softly before laying her head on her dad’s shoulder. 

“I know I shouldn't be this hypervigilant because everything was successful and she's home but I can't help it.”

Damien nodded. 

“You're a mother my darling. Your job is to protect, nurture, love, and teach. That is what a parent does. No matter what.”

Shanelle chuckled softly. 

“You don't have to worry about me, Daddy.”

“My darling, I will always worry about and for you. No matter how old you get or where you go in life, you are still my Princess. It's one of those factory settings that I can't seem to shut off.”

Shanelle smiled softly as he wrapped a loving arm around her. 

“You've done a fantastic job as a mother. Never forget that.”

“Thank you, Daddy. Sometimes it's hard not to question whether or not I’m doing this right.”

He kissed her softly on her forehead. 

“I love you, my sweet girl. Always know that.”

“I love you too Daddy.” 

Shanelle watched him leave before taking one last look at Khari asleep in her bed and going to bed herself. 

While Shanelle took care of their daughter, Marquise took care of the kingdom business. Starting with speaking with Jean-Marc Archambeau. 

“It's good to see you again Jean-Marc.”

Jean-Marc nodded. 

“You as well…Your Majesty. I got so used to calling you, Your Highness growing up that I sometimes forget you’re the King now.” 

“It's quite alright.”

“Thank you for taking the time for me. I assure you I didn't know my cousin would tell you.”

“I believe you but I’m glad that she did. Now let me start by saying I am so sorry. I had no idea this had happened.”

“I know. Please know I don't blame you or the kingdom. I blame your father. He did this. He banned us from our home.” 

Marquise nodded. 

“If you don't mind, what happened that day?”

Jean-Marc swallowed. 

“After we got suspended I went home. And when I got home I got an earful from my parents. They were not at all happy with me fighting with you. But it wasn't until the next day that everything happened.”

Marquise nodded. 

“Go on.”

“There was a knock at the door, it was Bastien and he had an arrest warrant with my name on it. And my parents, they tried to fight it but your father wasn't having any of it.”

“How long were you held?”

 “A week. I had no contact with anyone. I was scared and alone. He wouldn't let my parents see me. It was awful.”

Marquise let out a breath. 

“What happened when he summoned your parents?” 

“He ripped into them. Especially my father. Called him careless and reckless. Said that the only reason he didn't have me executed immediately was because he wanted to see my father beg for my life.”

Marquise shook his head sadly. 

“It broke my father. He begged Constantine not to kill me over something so minuscule. He told him that he would do anything just to see me released. He even tried to trade his life for mine.”

“And is that when my father gave him the ultimatum?”

“Yes. My parents couldn't afford the fine he would've imposed. And they would've died if he…so they chose exile. But my father knew it wasn't me King Constantine was after.” 

Marquise let out a breath. 

“Allow me to say this, what happened to Sebastian was NOT your father’s fault. The call to go ahead and send Sebastian and his troops down the Dialgosa Pass was my father’s call. Even though he was advised against it.” 

“I know that. And again I lay no blame at your feet or the feet of the kingdom.”

“Do you know how my father found out about the fight?”

“Yes. Headmaster Boisseau called your father and told him as he did my parents.”

Marquise nodded. 

“That makes sense,” Marquise said with a sigh, “I don’t even know where to begin this apology to you and your family.”

“Thank you, Marquise. It means everything to me that would do this.”

“Anything for an old friend. Even if he is still telling people I stole a goal from him.”

“I stand by my story.”

The two laughed. 

“Well first order of business is this, your family’s exile was unjust, without cause, and was nothing more than an act of bitter revenge. So for that, I am lifting the exile order. And should you choose to, you and your family can come home.”

Jean-Marc teared up. 

“Thank you. Thank you so much. It always hurt my father that he was banned from his home.”

“Did you all bury him?”

“No. We had him cremated.”

“Well now, you can bring him home to be buried if that's what you and your mother wish.”

“I don't know how to repay you. I'm so overwhelmed with relief and joy. I just wish my father was here to hear you say he could finally come home.”

“I do as well. Also, since he was an officer of His Majesty’s Army. He is owed the remainder of his salary as well as his death stipend. I will see to it that it is sent to you immediately.”

Jean-Marc nodded. 

“And as far as your conviction is concerned, consider it fully overturned and vacated as well as scrubbed from the record. You were innocent the entire time.”

“Thank you again, my friend. This means everything to me. I can't wait to tell my mother as well as my wife and children the very good news.”

“I'm just glad I could reverse this VERY egregious oversight on His Former Majesty’s part.”

There was a soft knock at Marquise’s door. 

“Come in!” he called out. 

That's when Khari walked in. 

“Hi, Daddy!” 

“Hello my love. What are you up to? Where are your brothers?”

“They're taking a nap with Mommy.”

That's when Khari noticed he was on a video call.

“Oh! I'm sorry Daddy. I didn't know you were busy. I'll come back later.”

“No no. Come here. There's someone I want you to meet.” 

Khari walked behind his desk and climbed into his lap. 

“My love, I want you to meet Sir Jean-Marc Archambeau.”

“Is he the one you said Grandfather was mean to?”

“Yes, my love. Can you say hello?” 

Khari nodded before smiling at Jean-Marc. 

“Hi, Jean-Marc!”

“Hello, Princess. How are you?”

“I’m okay. I'm sorry Grandfather was mean to you. I promise my Daddy isn't like that. He's very nice.”

Jean-Marc chuckled.

“You and I agree on that. He's much nicer than your grandfather.”

“Maybe one day you can come visit the palace and say hi.”

Jean-Marc bowed his head. 

“Thank you for your warm welcome and invitation Princess. My family and I would love to visit one day.” Jean-Marc said to Khari before speaking to Marquise, “My goodness. She is so much like your mother.”

Marquise nodded. 

“Indeed she is. We will be in touch.”

“Of course. And thank you again, Your Majesty. I might not have a vote anymore but you have my family’s support and loyalty.”

“Thank you, Jean-Marc. We’ll talk soon.” 

With that video call ended. 

“Daddy, can I ask a question?”

“Of course my love.”

“Why was Grandfather so mean to him?”

Marquise inhaled and exhaled slowly. 

“To be completely honest, I really have no idea.”

“Grammy says he was very mean to her and especially Grandpa but he was really cruel to you.”

“She's right. He was.”

“But why Daddy? I don’t understand. You didn't do anything wrong.”

“I don't know. My honest guess is after your Grandmother was killed. He changed. And not for the good. He let his grief, his heartache, his sadness, and his anger fester. And when you do that, it slowly poisons you and especially your ability to love. And he never learned to heal from that.”

Khari hugged her father as tightly as she could. 

“I’m sorry he was so cruel to you.”

Marquise kissed her forehead before tilting her chin up. 

“My love. I don’t want you to worry about that. Okay? I am just fine. I have you, your brothers, your grandparents, and especially your mother. You all are my world and happiness. As long as I have all of you I don't need anything else.”

“Not even a cinnamon roll from Book-A-Holic?” Khari asked. 

“Now we're talking!” he replies.

“Yay! Let's go!”

The next day The Royal Family found themselves in the company of the Dalton Family. No one was happier than Khari to have them at the palace. 

“Titi! You made it!” Khari said as she hugged Nina. 

“Of course I did sweetie! I had to come see you! I've been so worried about you.” 

“Thank you for coming TiTi. We're gonna have so much fun.”

“Yes, we will.”

After spending the whole day together with their children, the two best friends finally found time for themselves. 

“I’m so happy you’re here, love. Thank you for coming.”

Nina hugged her. 

“My Princess and Princes needed me and so did their mother and that's why I’m here,” Nina said to her. 

“I didn't mean for you to just drop everything.”

“Princess, we've been over this. I didn't just drop everything.”

“You had plans this weekend!” 

“Plans change! My family needed me so I’m here. So Sam and I didn't go with the boys and their grandparents to Nantucket. So what? Nantucket will still be there when we get home. My focus is on taking care of you and my Princess. Thank you very much.” 

“You're so stubborn.”

Nina scoffed. 

“You're one to talk.”

Shanelle shook her head before placing her hand on Nina’s stomach. 

“How are you feeling?” she asked Nina. 

“I’m okay,” she replied. 

“I can't believe you're doing this again. Didn't you just give birth?”

Nina shrugged. 

“It's been more than six weeks, I earned it. The question is when are you trying again.” 

“Not anytime soon. I just gave birth!”

“A year ago Nelle.”

“Exactly! Besides, my boys aren't even two yet.”

That piqued Nina’s interest. 

“So you have been thinking about it?”

“Okay fine. I kinda do want another child. But the thought of having an entire elementary school running around scares me.”

“I understand that.”

“And then again pregnancy is hard. I was literally sick every day for the first six months I was pregnant with the boys. I don’t know if I want to go through that again.”

“Again I get it. But at the same time, you were having twins.”

“You know you suck at motivational speeches right?”

Nina raised an eyebrow at Shanelle. 

“You know you love the attention you get when you’re pregnant. Your husband literally goes into overdrive.”

“True.”

“And you know you love that feeling of having a new baby around. And not to mention Khari will be thrilled to have another baby to spoil.”

“Look here you little horny rabbit! Stop projecting!”

“I'm not projecting. You just don't want to admit that you want another kid.”

Shanelle gave her a side-eye. 

“Admit it, Princess.”

“Hey Keane. Go to hell. Go directly to hell. Do not pass Go! Do not collect $200!” 

The two snickered.

“Can you at least tell me if you’re thinking about it?” Nina asked. 

“Okay fine. I admit it. I have thought about it. But no discussions or final decisions until after my anniversary.”

“Another royal baby? Color me interested.”

“What part of go to hell didn't you hear?”

“Never change Princess. Never change.”

The two smiled at each other. Having her best friend with her, meant everything to Shanelle. Whenever they needed one another, they were always there for each other. 

While the ladies spent time together, the men spent time on the green.

“Alright, Sam. How about a friendly wager?”

“How much are we talking about, Your Majesty?”

“$1,500.00 a piece.”

“$1,500.00? You've gone soft in your old age.”

“Aren't you older than me?”

“Slightly. So shall we tee off?”

“Lead the way, sir.”

That night the moms were on a bestie dinner date. 

“What do you think our lives would be like if we weren't in each other's lives?” Nina asks. 

“I don't know and I don't ever want to find out,” Shanelle replied. 

“Me either. One more thing. How do you think our husbands are doing?” Nina asks. 

“Probably not too happy that we left a 6-year-old in charge.” 

“She's not that bad, Shanelle.”

Shanelle looked at her in feigned shock. 

“My dear. Have you forgotten how legendary the tea parties of the Crown Princess are? Knowing Khari, she's got those two walking around in makeup, tiaras, and very colorful feather boas.” 

Nina snorted. 

“Oh goodness.” 

“Mind you… that's the monster you created.”

“Just like I created you.”

The two laughed. 

The next few days, life started to return back to normal. Khari was given the okay to return to school. When she did she looked for her friend Elena but she wasn't there. Khari learned that Elena had become very sick. So she wanted to go see her at the hospital. Unfortunately, she would never get that chance. 

The Royals had just held an audience with the Farmer’s Guild when his phone rang. 

“Hello?” he said as he answered the phone, “Countess Gladys? How can I help you?”

He listened to her become frantic over the phone. 

“Countess calm down, please! Tell me what's wrong?” he said as he tried to calm her down, “What? WHAT?! When? Oh my god!” 

Shanelle turned her attention to her husband. 

“Okay Countess, I need you to calm yourself down, please. Now tell me what happened,” he said to her, “and where is Lady Selene?” he said over the phone, “Yes ma'am. You have my word. Thank you for contacting me.”

When he hung up with her, his face was grim.

“What? What is it?” Shanelle asked. 

“That was Countess Gladys. Her granddaughter…” he started to say before clearing his throat, “Elena…she died this morning.”

“Oh my God! No! No…” Shanelle said as her heart broke. 

“Apparently, she caught an infection, and her poor immune system just couldn't fight it.”

Shanelle’s right hand flew to her mouth as she sadly shook her head. 

“Oh my god! Poor Lady Selene. She must be completely devastated.”

“She is crushed. But that's not what's about to upset you.”

“What do you mean?” she asked. 

“Lord Charroux filed for and was granted an injunction that granted him sole custody of Elena’s body. And he's keeping her from Lady Selene.” 

“EXCUSE ME?!” 

“I know.”

“How the hell was he able to do that?!”

“He had support.”

“From who?”

“Lord and Lady Gallagher.”

That made Shanelle’s blood boil. 

“Absolutely fucking not! Under no circumstances we will allow that parasite to take that little girl from her mother.”

“Comery Isle is under the Queen’s jurisdiction, so in order for me to file a block to his injunction, I need your authorization codes.”

“1201, 1203, 1028.”

Marquise nodded. 

“I will file the block as soon as I get back to my office.”

“And while you’re at it, file a summons to get those two in here now! It's high time we put those two pompous asses in their places.”

“By your command my Queen.”

“Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go break the news to our daughter. She will be heartbroken.”

“I'll be there as soon as I can.”

Marquise watched Shanelle walk out of the throne room, before heading to his office. This was one issue that neither one would stand for. 

[tinyboxxtink]

"Doppelganger" *Part 24*

Alright I REFUSE to make this story any longer, so the next chapter IS the finale, I swear to you.

This is just one more little loose end I wanted to throw in, maybe it'll come back around the epilogue. Who knows?! I know.

I would have started the "Wedding Day" here but I really wanted it to be it's own chapter, so this is kinda short and I'm not gonna lie if I have to I will make the last chapter 20 pages long to fit the ending in. That being said I have some stuff to do tomorrow night and work the next night so I may or may not split up writing the last chapter between those and post it late Sunday or Monday.

It's worth it I promise! I'll make it worth it.

Part 23

Finale!!

Tag List

@madamsnape921

@lolliepopsicle

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@milkshqke

@wanniiieeee

@word-scribbless

@gibbs274

@sassyada

@aprildecker-blog

@bookishfanfic

@stars-in-the-skies-world

@stars-trash-18

@omgsuperstarg

@objection-argumentative

-------

The next day Rafael asked you to come by his office once again, making you nervous. Especially when you showed up to the Mayor and a Lawyer to greet you along with Rafael.

“Pinguino,” Rafael smiled as he met you at the door with his arms open wide pulling you into a kiss.

“....More interviews?” You whispered as you eyed the two other men.

“Actually, they haven’t told me what they’re doing here yet,” Rafael whispered back as you both walked over to the men sitting at Rafael’s desk. Rafael pulled another chair around to his side so you could sit next to him. He had a feeling this would take a while.

“So...gentlemen,” Rafael cleared his throat. “What’s this about?”

“Well Barba it’s about your wedding,” The mayor replied.

“...Why am I not surprised..?” He shook his head with a laugh.

“Actually Mr. Barba I think you’ll find this visit different from others the mayor here has sprung on you thus far,” His lawyer answered.

“...And that would be because…?” Rafael raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“Because Mr. Fenkell here says that I owe you financial compensation for all you’ve been doing for me,” The mayor replied rather gruffly as he crossed his arms like a petulant child being called into the principal’s office.

“...Excuse me?” Rafael looked at both of them with confusion.

“Well Mr. Barba, I’m surprised you haven’t either realized or brought up the fact that the situation that you’re in is called ‘quid pro quo’,” The lawyer explained.

“Yes I know what ‘quid pro quo’ is counselor, we went to the same law school,” Rafael snarked. “And I graduated with higher honors than you,”

“Barba I’m here trying to help you out, I don’t know why you’re lashing out at me,” The lawyer now crossed his arms.

“Baby,” You put a hand on his. “Just let the man talk,”

“Right,” He nodded reluctantly. “Go on,”

“Like I was saying,” Mr. Fenkell pulled out papers from his briefcase. “I assume you and your fiancée here have been going along with the Mayor’s requests for fear of losing your job, correct?”

“I mean, not mine per say,” Rafael shrugged. “THAT would be illegal,”

“Right,” Mr. Fenkell nodded. “But everything he’s done thus far involving you and your fiancé's likeness entitles you to royalties, and dues for services,”

“Well, that is true,” Rafael nodded. “I’ve been so preoccupied with everything else I haven’t even stopped to think--”

“Which is exactly why I’m here,” Mr. Fenkell cut him off. “I figured a competent lawyer like yourself would realize when all the dust settles, that you were indeed entitled to a sum of money, and would therefore sue the Mayor after the fact,”

“Wow, that’s a lot of assuming on your part sir,” You laughed softly. “You really think Rafael is that shit of a--”

“I mean he is right,” Rafael finished for you.

“...Or I’m just an idiot,” You muttered.

“No, baby you’re not an idiot,” Rafael took your hand. “But we are entitled--YOU are entitled for some kind of compensation for all that you’ve done for the mayor--for me,”

“I thought my compensation was getting to marry you,” You smiled sweetly.

“Aww,” Mr. Fenkell remarked, causing an eye roll from the mayor.

“Right so--” Mr. Fenkell began laying papers filled with legal jargon on the desk in front of you and Rafael.

“This contract states that once we settle on a number, you won’t try and collect more from the mayor with some random claim like ‘emotional distress’ during your wedding, or events thereafter due to all of this,”

“...Trauma?” You couldn’t help but laugh. “You think that after everything I went through, I would classify this as trauma?”

“I mean theoretically you could, Ms. Y/L/N,” He nodded. “The emotional stress of reliving your trauma and trying to plan a wedding while on display for the whole city must be taking a toll on you right now, is it not?”

“...Well it wasn’t until you said it like that,” You muttered.

“Dammit Maxwell I told you, they were perfectly fine with--” The mayor began to pitch a fit.

“Oh no no no,” Rafael wagged a finger at the mayor. “Just because she’s ignorant of the--”

“Excuse you?” You crossed your arms at Rafael’s condescending tone.

“I mean, just because she doesn’t realize or recognize the emotional stress she’s under doesn’t mean that she doesn’t have it, and doesn’t deserve compensation” He looked to you apologetically while he re-worded the statement. You gave him an approving nod.

“Right well this is what this is for--”

“And what kind of price tag have you put on my fiance's feelings, counselor?”

“Well if you’ll peruse the contract, counselor…” Mr. Fenkell pointed to the bottom of the paper.

“This contract blah blah blah, no further seeking monetary blah blah blah…” Rafael spoke out loud as he scanned the document. Then suddenly, his eyes widened and he stopped reading, looking at you then Mr. Fenkell then the Mayor.

“...A million dollars?” He raised his eyebrow, skeptical.

“...What?” You gasped.

“....Each,” He added with a smile as he handed you the paper. You didn’t know a lot of the words, but in plain black and white you read: “...In the form of one million dollars per plaintiff,”

“I’m sorry, WHAT?” You said louder than you intended, but that was insane.

“That’s insane,” You said out loud. “I don’t need that kind--”

“Baby,” Rafael stopped you and pulled you slightly away from the mayor and his lawyer. “I know that you get antsy when good things happen to you, but you deserve this,”

“For what?!” You hissed. “For taking a few photos? For letting a camera crew in a church? Rafael I just--”

“...But think of everything before that, carino,”

“What, Nevada? That--” You shook your head.

“Wasn’t your fault,” Rafael finished.

“...Well it wasn’t the mayor’s fault either, Raffi,” You nodded at the mayor.

“But he is exploiting you for it,” Rafael pointed out.

“....True,” You nodded.

“Excuse you two, but I--” The mayor began to rant again.

“And if I may add,” Mr. Fenkell jumped in. “While Mr. Barba was worried about his job, you also had reason to be worried about it as well. Being as he is your only means of support,”

“Right now,” You quickly added.

“....Right,” Mr. Fenkell gave you a side eye. “Currently,”

Clearly this douchebag thought what everyone else must be thinking. That you were just marrying Rafael for his money. So that you could be a ‘kept’ woman. Well, he was about to learn that was the furthest thing from the truth.

“Alright then,” You finally said. “Then I want my share to go to Rafael, if we’re going to be married it’s his anyway,”

“No no no no, Nuh-uh,” Rafael shook his head. “Your share is your share,”

“...But I don’t want you to think that I’ve got some... ‘escape money’,” You gave him a sad look.

“Escape money?” He laughed. “Baby I told you, I think the last thing I should be worried about is you leaving me,”

“....Also true,” You nodded with a soft smile. You sure as hell had not gotten this far working this hard to ‘get’ Rafael to just give him up. Ever.

“Okay then, do I tell you where I want the money to go or do I do it myself?” You asked Mr. Fenkell.

“...You already have plans for it?” Mr. Fenkell asked you. “...Didn’t you just say you didn’t want it? Why would you--”

“Just answer the question,” You said flatly.

“I mean Mr. Barba could just draw up the contracts and paperwork for you to transfer your funds wherever you--”

“But Mr. Barba is my husband, not my lawyer,” You cut him off. “...And I’d like to keep that way,” You looked over at who Rafael looked at you in confusion.

"Not Mixing business and pleasure," You smirked.

“Right,” Mr. Fenkell nodded as pulled out a legal pad and a pen. “Well I can make a list of where you want to divert the funds and we’ll go from there,”

“Okay,” You took a deep breath. “Well, first of all-- obviously,” You took Rafael’s hand. “I want to pay off the rest of my time at Julliard,”

“That’s unnecessary, carino--”

“Yeah I know you say that Rafael, but I was going there before I met you and it’s not your respon--”

“It’s already paid for, in full,” He spoke over you.

“...What?” You asked him with a breathy voice. When did he have time to do that?! WHY-wait.

“But I’m going to need an extra semester since I’m taking the rest of this one off,” You said softly as you glanced at the other two in shame. You still felt guilty about Rafael having to basically babysit you for the past few weeks.

“Yeah I figured that.” He nodded with a smile, stroking your cheek. “It’s all taken care of, carino,”

“...Alright fine then I want to pay it back,” You insisted.

“No,” He shook his head. “Absolutely not,”

“Rafael come on--”

“NO,” He repeated sternly. “I won’t take it,”

“....Alright, fine,” You rolled your eyes. “Then I want a chunk to go to abuela--”

“No I have them covered too,” He shook his head. “And they are definitely NOT your responsibility. And before you say next that you want it to go to Maria, she will never accept it. We're too proud of a people," He smiled teasingly.

“...Fine,” You sighed in frustration. “THEN I want a chunk of it to go to opening a drama center,” You crossed your arms and looked at Rafael. “Any objections to that, counselor?”

“...A drama center?” He looked at you curiously.

“Look,” You took both of his hands. “I know you couldn’t-- your mom didn’t want you---” You took another breath, trying to figure out exactly what to say. “...You had to give up your dream to take care of your family,”

“Carino…” He took your hand.

“And my parents, they spent all the money we had on dance lessons, acting lessons, all of it. On ME. Just so that I could live my dream,” You continued. “Kids should be able to dream their dreams without their parents having to worry about money to do so,”

“But...your dream, Y/N. You want to be on Broadway. How are you gonna fit--” He started to speak but you were nowhere near done with your speech.

“Baby my dream was selfish,” You shook your head. “I wanted to be famous for the wrong reasons. To be adored by the world, to be loved by everyone. But, now I know the only person’s love I care about, is yours,” You stroked his face.

“If I open this place then I can still use my talents as a teacher, helping kids like us. I told your mom that when I met you, you made me a better person, that you made me want to be better. I want that to be true. I need that to be true,” You finally finished with a small smile, tears lined Rafael’s eyes.

“You are the best person I know, mi amor,” He pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “I think the center is a great idea,”

“Good,” You smiled. “And….I want to name it the Y/L/N-Barba Drama Center,”

“....Well obviously after you,” He nodded.

“No,” You shook your head. “After you. And my parents. Because if it wasn’t for them I wouldn’t have found you, and you gave me everything I’ve ever wanted,”

“I love you,” He beamed at you as he kissed you deeply.

“...And on that note,” You turned back to Mr. Fenkell who looked wildly uncomfortable by your little cutesy side conversation.

“I want the rest to be split between a savings account for me, and the other half into a trust,”

“A trust?” Mr. Fenkell asked as he wrote down your wishes.

“A trust for our children,” You smiled at Rafael. “My parents spent so much money so that I could live my dream. I think it’s only fair I do the same for them; especially when I have the means to do it,”

“See those redneck shithead Jersians have no idea what they’re talking about,” He pressed his forehead against yours. “You are not selfish, not at all,”

“Thanks to you,” You pressed your own forehead against his like a love head butt.

“....Okay, so is there anywhere else you’d like it to go, Ms. Y/N?” Mr. Fenkell said rather loudly, trying once again to remind you there were other people in the room. People who were not amused with your disgustingly cute conversations.

“Um, no I think that’s good,” You nodded.

“Split up mine the same way, Max,” Rafael added.

“Rafael you don’t need to--” You started to protest but he put a finger to your mouth.

“I have money,” He assured you. “I have enough money to take care of us for the rest of our lives. This money should go somewhere that represents the both of us, and our love,”

“Can we please for the love of God just end this, please?” The mayor groaned. “If I have to sit here and watch you word vomit your love all over this office, I might actually vomit,”

“Right,” Rafael rolled his eyes. “Well gentlemen you know where to find us,” He grabbed the pen and signed one of the contracts then handed it to you and you did the same.

“Now if you’ll excuse us we’re going to ‘love vomit’ all over each other now,” He smirked as he handed back the papers. Mr. Fenkell and The mayor nodded as they walked out.

“Well, what do you want to do now?” Rafael wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“As tempting as that sounds, I have another request mi amor,” You played with the hair on the back of his knuckles with a soft voice.

“Anything for you pinguino,”

“Well I mean, you have some pull over there,” You nodded outside towards the courthouse that was attached to the DA's office by a hallway.

“...Why, do you need parking tickets dismissed or something? Did I agree to marry a felon?” He teased you.

“No,” You giggled. “But I would like to skip the ‘name changing’ line,” You pulled him closer as his smile grew bigger.

“I don’t think that’s what they call it, but I appreciate the sentiment,” He kissed you as you both walked towards the door of his office and out into the lobby.

“We’ll be back, Tommy,” He told his assistant.

“Right sir,” He nodded.

“This way to the ‘name changing line’, pinguino,” He smirked as you walked down the hall towards the courthouse.

------

--An Hour Later--

You and Rafael walked out of the courthouse and down the steps hand in hand as you pulled the two papers from his hands. One was a marriage license, and one was a form that was filled with boring legal jargon but at the bottom was printed: “Legal Name: Mrs. Y/F/N Barba,” with your new signature on the dotted line.

“Mrs. Rafael Barba,” You smiled as you looked at the paper.

“Oh no no no,” Rafael shook his head with a laugh. “That sounds like you’re my property, pinguino,”

“True,” You nodded with a teasing smile.

“...So why the sudden urgency to change your name, carino?” He asked as you walked down the street hand in hand. “Not that I’m complaining. I'd be lying if I said just looking at your name with my last name makes me giddy,”

“Giddy?” You gave him a look.

“Yeah, I said it. Giddy,” He laughed.

“...I don’t know, it was something that my therapist said,” You shrugged.

“...And what did she say?” He asked you skeptically.

“She said,” You sighed and pulled Rafael out of the flow of traffic of people.

“She said that women who don’t take their husband's last names had one foot out the door of the marriage before even going in,” You looked up at him with soft eyes. “And I don’t want you to think that I am any less than 100% sure of my love for you, and the rest of our lives together,”

“Well, first of all I’d like to see her marriage to divorce ratios based on that assumption,” He rolled his eyes. “And second-- I appreciate the sentiment baby, I really do. Just as long as you did it for you, and not because your therapist guilted you into it,”

“She didn’t,” You assured him. “I did this for me. For us,”

“Well then Mrs. Barba,” He took your hand once again with a huge smile. “Let’s grab some dinner, shall we?” He asked in a melodramatic, fancy tone.

“We shall, Mr. Barba,” You answered in the same tone, making both of you giggle like school kids.

Now all that was left to do was actually get married!

[fuzziemutt]

Do You Understand?

Chapter 1/9 - Link to MasterList in reblog

Summary: Connor knows he isn’t the most.. knowledgeable... about emotions but that didn’t mean he didn’t understand them ever. If they weren’t going to take him seriously then he wasn’t even going to try interacting with them anymore. What could possibly go wrong?

Tw: I’m placing all possible tws here that could apply to the story. Possible ableism (this is not explicit but what Connor goes through can be similar to it), dissociation, very emotionally harmful coping mechanisms. Self worth problems. Trauma responses that go unnoticed. Please let me know if I need to add any more.

This started as a vent fic that extended outward into comfort, it gets worse before it gets better.

Notes: This is my first multi chaptered fic, I’ve never done this before. I did write the whole story in entirety prior and scheduled the other chapters to slowly release. The original vent was honestly quite different than what ended up being written, and I don’t know how it turned into this huge thing.

Also: There are no ships in this, this is all platonic. The only relationship status is that Hank is Connor’s dad even if they don’t quite acknowledge it.

Also also: This is Connor Pov. We mainly focusing on his thought processes throughout and they aren’t particularly healthy. (Connor also has ADHD)

---

Connor knew he had trouble expressing and understanding his emotions. It wasn't a secret. He'd often find people looking at him with confusion, and sometimes wariness, with his lack of response to many things. He was a prototype. Sure he had one of the most advanced social relations software to date, but Cyberlife cut corners with the amount of articulation his face could produce, his current model wasn't meant to live long and to be disposable after all.

It doesn't help that he also just didn't know how to express what he was feeling in the limited ways he could. He "lived" most of his trial runs and current time in severe denial out of fear of deactivation so he'd rather ignore them than process them. It wasn't healthy but it was safe. Familiar.

That didn't mean he couldn't feel. He felt lots of things like guilt, hatred, fear, the occasional spark of joy. Too many things sometimes, in fact, that led him to having a nasty habit of adamantly ignoring it all, manually storing it away for later to keep his composer and stay in fully functioning order. Sure this led to people often ignoring his own desires and doing things that severely hurt him with no mention from him. But he was fine. He chose this after all. 

However, even with all the quarantining and ignoring, he couldn't help the anger that bubbled under his skin and in his throat right now. 

"Hank, I understand that you're angry but-" 

"You think you understand? You don't understand a shit, Connor! How could you?! I get you're your own person and everything now, but I never see you express anything beyond mild displeasure!" Hank yelled back. Connor was glad they were at Hank's house at least to provide some sense of privacy but saying he felt unhappiness at being yelled at was an understatement. 

Connor went to open his mouth in defense but Hank cut him off, "Of course you don't understand! How could you ever understand any emotions! You keep acting like a-" he suddenly went quiet, but Connor knew. 

"Like a what, Lieutenant?" He asked, making sure to keep his LED a yellow slow turn, but he couldn't help how sharp his voice came out, how his eyes hardened to a fine point. 

They stared at each other for several tense seconds before Hank seemed to deflate a bit and looked ashamed. 

"Like a machine," he spat out, still tense and upset but his fury gone. 

Connor simply nodded, quarantining what he could to not lash out and stood up silently. 

"I will be taking Sumo out for a walk to allow for us to take a breather before we both do something we regret. I will return," he said, shoulders tense and voice strict. His movements felt stiff as he tried to hold himself back from continuing this fight, grabbing the leash and patting his side to call over the old dog. 

"You can't just run away-" Hank tried, stepping closer as if to grab Connor's arm to stop him. But Connor's ice cold glare, almost threatening posture and clenched fists seemed to stop him. They kept forgetting that Connor wasn't just meant for integration but also intimidation, he once was a deviant (killer) hunter after all, and he can be intimidating when he so pleased. Hank seemed to suddenly remember the rumors of Gavin getting his ass handed to him by Connor in under a minute flat by how he backed away uncertain.

Connor left and came back a bit over half an hour later. Hank would apologize and Connor would accept it, even if that anger still simmered deep inside, and they'd go back to joking and discussing work matters like nothing happened. Friends sometimes fight after all. It was fine.

Despite how much Connor hated those accusations of him being incapable of understanding, they. Kept. Happening. 

Not just with Hank but others as well. The people who he thought were his friends, the Jericrew, even Nines the RK900, kept pulling the same shit. Connor knew they all experienced deviancy differently than him, Nines also had the gift of a face with full articulation that he couldn't help but envy, but it irked him every time. 

"Let's switch topics for Connor..."

"Oh I should have talked about this with someone else..."

"It was rude of me to assume you understand-" 

"Oh.. Sorry I know you don't understand-"

"You know he doesn't understand-"

"He won't understand-"

"He can't understand-" 

Each time he heard that word, understand, Connor felt that broiling anger rise just a bit more. Each time they never even asked how he felt before the assumption, he felt his trust disintegrate bit by bit. He was a master of masking his emotions to get the emotional responses he wanted, but even he had a limit when anytime he saw his friends he felt nothing but hateful bitterness below his false pleasantries. He even stopped willfully hanging out with all of them, even Hank, as it grew harder to fight down the urge to scream and yell and make them understand. 

It all came to a head during a meeting with the Jericho leaders, Nines tagged along as well as he said how much he missed seeing him outside of work. They were discussing how to handle the androids that still had severely negative responses to humans after all this time since the revolution. He was in the middle of talking about a solution of creating areas in New Jericho that would absolutely not allow humans and could run independently when North rounded on him.

"I'm sorry," in a very much not sorry tone, "but how am I supposed to take your option any bit seriously when you don't understand any of these androids' struggles mister 'my best friend is a human'."

"North-" Markus warned. The others even tensed up staring at Connor.

"No seriously. He could never understand their struggles," North plowed forward with no hesitation. 

Connor felt something snap inside of him. He felt his LED burn bright red, his back straighten, fists clenched, and his features shift into that bitter anger that he tried his best to keep under wraps. He could see how everyone grew more than just tense but wary even; he even saw a flash of fear in North's eyes. 

They insisted he was nothing more than a machine who didn't understand. That he'll forever be Cyberlife's pet (killer) deviant hunter. So he'll show them the hunter that was conditioned, threatened, who thrived on his own anger and fear through every grueling training session. The side that he kept pushed down as much as he could. 

He couldn't help the bitter laugh that came out of him, "understand... You know what? I'm starting to think I fucking hate that word." 

He knew he was scaring them with how North backed away quickly and the others started coming forward as if to protect her from him. His anger worsened at that but a small part of him felt a bit of twisted satisfaction at how they're finally treating him seriously. He could even imagine Amanda whispering praises for being the threat they wanted from the back of his CPU. 

"Has it never occurred to you that I might have problems with humans as well?" His hands expressed where his face couldn't, trying to contain the energy thrumming in his body, "has it never occurred to you what I might have gone through hm? 

“Oh wait. You never asked. You only accused. Have you ever thought about how my serial number has a 54 at the end of it? Did it ever occur to you that I have to exist with the memory of 53 deactivations constantly and the fear that I might be the 54th for merely breathing wrong? Who do you think did that? Who do you think reminded me day in and out that I was nothing but an expendable machine made to kill, to never ask questions because it meant deactivation or my internals torn out while I was awake. Humans. Humans did that but no, just because I trusted Hank not to do the same, I don't understand?" 

He knew he was slowly growing erratic and unstable with how aggressively his hands moved and the way everyone backed away from him. The way he loomed over them with his presence didn't help their nerves he was sure. Or how he slowly stalked towards them as if a predator was cornering its prey. But he couldn't help it, the thrumming pulse in his core needed to come out and by hell was it coming out now. 

"Not only that, but I apparently don't understand emotions too! I may be a deviant but emotions? They're off the table!" He couldn't help the second bitter laugh, a tinge hysterical, "no no. None of you took the time to ask me how I was handling these emotions and instead just assumed I didn't feel them! Because I'm ‘just a machine’. This guilt, fear, and self hatred I feel every waking moment? Lies because I'm just a machine. Even this anger I'm expressing right now? These are lies too aren't they? The nightmares I get of my countless deactivations and the numerous deaths that stain my hands? All just my programs malfunctioning because I'm just. A. Machine." 

"We didn't... Connor we didn't know-" Nines started, his sadness and fear clear as day on his face like how they wanted Connor's to be. The others were solemnly nodding along too as if this would appease him. 

"Because you never. Asked. Because none of you ever truly fucking cared!" Connor roared in response, slamming a fist down on the metal table next to him. All their eyes snapped and starred at the large dent he knew he left behind but he didn't care. He let himself breathe heavily, taking a second to find himself and his self restraint again. 

And just like that, he locked up those pesky emotions like everyone expected him to. He knew the people before him didn't actually desire him to show any negative emotions just like them, they proved it just now with how they're looking at him. He took one final deep breath, fixed his tie and let his face slip back into its emotionless mask except the cold, closed off glare didn't leave. He even felt that that was going to be a permanent feature now after today and couldn't help the internal chuckle at the irony how he finally was showing the emotions they desperately wanted him to show.

No one said anything as he moved towards the door. There was still tension in the air, fear, anger and confusion swirled in various manners of their eyes. Nines seemed split on treating him like a threat and reaching out to him, maybe even to pity him. Markus also looked like he wanted to say something, but he just looked away in the end. North had fearful eyes but a look that seemed to say 'I was right we couldn't trust him'. Josh held Simon behind him, and he looked almost sad if his distrust didn't say otherwise. Simon refused to take his eyes off the clear fist shaped dent in the table, still as a statue. Connor vaguely wondered if they'd replace that table because of him just like how they so easily replaced him with Nines when given the chance.

No one made a move to stop him from leaving. He couldn't tell if it was out of fear of him showing those (killer) hunter colors again by snapping an arm or if they're realizing just how badly they fucked up. He couldn't tell which choice he wanted more either. He hoped it was the latter.

"You're all hypocrites. To me, you're all no better than them," was the last thing he hissed out before slamming the door closed behind him. He heard the way the frame and wall around the door shook and cracked from the force but again, he didn't care. He wasn't going to play nice anymore if this was how they felt like treating him. He was programmed to be amiable, calm but he was also programmed to be obedient and he knew how that went. A bit of anxiety existed of how much damage he did and how easily he almost lost control back there, but he just ignored it again as he rushed down the hall to leave. 

No one followed him.

[spooks-and-tea]

Entangled (Spencer Reid x femReader)

Summary: You don’t know how it happened. One moment you were watching Criminal Minds, and the next moment you were literally in the show. Can Spencer be the key to helping you find your way back home?

Warnings: minor character death, mentions of su*cide, bad explanations of quantum mechanics, sexual situations, the usual criminal minds-type content

A/N: wow I’ve been on this site for ages, nearly as long as Criminal Minds was on air, lol, but this is my first fic posted here. I plan to make this one into a few parts if people like it. If this has any relation to other fics it’s not intended. Literally just an idea that popped in my brain. I’ll also eventually add it to my wattpad .@ kittentastic

Word Count: 3,119

Chapter 1.  Chapter 2.  Chapter 3.  Chapter 4. Chapter 5.  Chapter 6.  Chapter 7. Chapter 8.  Chapter 9.  Chapter 10.  Chapter 11.

It was an average, lonely, autumn night. Halloween was nearing and you didn't have anywhere to be. Long estranged from the people you once called family, and friends, you were starting a new life in L.A.

Yeah, you were one of those small-town girls with big-city dreams. You wanted to be an actress, a dream your father had once encouraged. When he suddenly died, you had nothing left but a new step-mother who discouraged your dreams and was more than happy to disown you when you reached 18 years of age; a classic Cinderella story.

It had taken a while, getting yourself through university and saving up enough money to move out to L.A. Now you were 27 and living your dreams...partly. You worked at a coffee shop in Hollywood; a great way to meet people that could potentially cast you in a big production, but that plan had yet to come to fruition. Every audition would have someone else in mind for the part.

Today, you had finished yet another round of auditions for everything from small commercial bits to tv shows. You poured yourself a glass of red wine after finishing your microwavable meal-for-one dinner. Wine would always be your go-to drink after your dissappointing days, it was great at helping you sleep. You clicked on the tv and sipped your drink from your criss-crossed sitting position and soon found a Criminal Minds marathon that was just starting. It almost seemed like fate as tomorrow you had an audition lined up for the very same show.

You smiled as the bright, happy, Penelope Garcia came into the shot, followed by the rest of the BAU. You absentmindedly bit your lip as Dr. Spencer Reid came into frame.

Like a large percentage of the show's viewership, you found the handsome genius slipping into one or two of your fantasies. You may have daydreamed about the Dr. being a real person and walking into your workplace to order coffee and whisk you off your feet. You may have also woken up from a few dreams involving the handcuffs he was currently restraining an unsub with.

You wondered if you would get the part. Would it be odd having to pretend this dream-man was real? You'd hope you could contain your blushing around Matthew at least.

You finished your drink and stretched out on the couch, already feeling your eyes growing heavy. You found your mind wandering as you grew more and more tired, hardly paying attention to the episode. The last thought you had before you drifted off was, "what if Spencer Reid was a real person?"

Bright lights of assorted colors and shapes danced behind your tired eyes. You felt a tugging sensation that seemed to pull you from your core. It felt warm and safe, like it wanted to protect you. A hum grew louder and louder in your ear canal, followed by a crackling wind. It was like an electric storm. The smell of coffee and a woodsy vanilla filled whatever place you were in. It was odd, you knew this, but you weren't scared. Something told you this was right. Your body began to rise higher and higher until a loud snap echoed around you, shattering your surroundings.

"Whoa, sleeping on the job now Y/N? Did someone tire you out last night?" A woman's voice broke through the fog as your mind caught up with you.

Wait, am I still dreaming? That voice...it sounds like...

"Pretty Boy, you wanna check her for a pulse?"

And that is definitely...

"I-I don't think that's necessary."

You slowly lifted your head and opened your eyes wide. Your blurred vision slowly grew used to the bright indoor lighting. Your eyes widened as you saw none other than JJ, Morgan, and Reid. Yes, the fictional characters were standing in front of you.

How was this even possible? You had to be dreaming, or maybe you were forgetting and you were at a very strange audition. Yes, that had to be it, logically.

"Good morning Sleeping Beauty. Rough night? I didn't think Reid's Doctor Who nights were that wild, I might have to tag along and chaperone you two next time." Morgan greeted with a teasing smirk.

"How late did you two go for last night?" JJ asked, leaning against the desk that you had been sleeping on, and sipping her coffee.

She directed the question to you, but you didn't remember this dialogue in the audition script. When you didn't answer, Spencer spoke up.

"She texted me when she got home safe at 9:43pm. I made sure she left early as the rain was starting up. Now, of course, she could have stayed up longer, but we continued to exchange texts until she texted me goodnight at 10:15pm."

"Goodnight texts? Remind me and JJ here why you two aren't dating again?" Morgan crossed his arms looking between you and Spencer.

You blinked, taking a chance to finally look around. There were no cameras in sight. Above you was a tiled ceiling with office lighting. No directors or normal-looking crew members were around.

"Matthew?" You asked, directing your question to a stuttering, red-faced Reid.

Everyone turned their attention back to you. Reid, or Matthew, raised his eyebrow at you. And turned to look if anyone was standing behind him that you could be talking to.

"Who is Matthew, Y/N?" He asks, cautiously.

Oh my god. I must be dreaming.

You stood up and slowly reached out to Reid, who was standing closest to you. You gently poked his cheek. He looked almost afraid at your actions.

"Spencer?" You lower your shaky hand. He felt real, he was standing in front of you. You could smell his morning coffee.

"Yeah?"

"Pinch me."

"What? Why?"

"So I know that I'm not dreaming." You could feel his eyes prodding you, profiling.

"Maybe we should get you to a doctor-"

You grabbed his wrist and placed his hand on your upper arm.

"Pinch me. Hard."

Spencer winced as he did what you asked of him. He obviously did not want to hurt you. You felt your nerves fire off in pulses of pain where he pinched. You sharply inhaled and he immediately dropped his hand.

"Oh my god," you stammered, "ohmygodohmygodohmygod."

This is real. Spencer Reid is real.

You slid back down in your chair and looked at an open mouthed JJ and Morgan, staring at you in shock.

"What kind of kinky shit are you two into?" Morgan narrowed his eyes at Reid.

"This is no time for teasing Derek. I think she's suffering from a concussion." JJ reached out, concerned, feeling your forehead for a fever.

"She doesn't have any visible signs of bruising. Y/N do you remember hitting your head on anything, or experiencing whiplash today?" Reid, growing serious turned your chair towards him, raking his fingers through your hair to check your scalp for any tender spots.

For a moment you had to stop yourself from sighing, it just felt nice, and it was Spencer.

"No I'm-I'm fine, my head feels fine." You answered.

"What's the last thing you remember doing?"

You bit your lip, should you answer him truthfully? How would you even explain something so illogical.

"I-I remember. I fell asleep on the couch watching tv." In a different reality.

"Do you think it's possible you rolled off of the couch in your sleep?"

You frowned to yourself.

"It's possible."

It's never happened before, but you suppose it would explain things. This was definitely a hallucination. Maybe it was one of those Spencer-centric dreams.

"Spence, I think you should take Y/N to the hospital. I'll cover for you with Hotch." JJ suggested.

Spencer nodded in agreement while Morgan looked worriedly at you. JJ got up from the desk to seek out Hotch in his office.

"Do you have your keys?" Spencer asked, still looking you over.

"Um-" you checked your pockets and sure enough found a ring of keys in your pants pocket. You dropped them into Spencer's outstretched hand.

"Can you walk?" Spencer's voice went softer.

You shivered as you did whenever you heard that tone on the show. He could make a living doing ASMR with that voice.

You stood with Spencer's unneeded, but much appreciated, help. He seemed to have no problem holding your hands to help you, something you considered to be out of character for the germaphobic Dr. Reid. Then again, the show did not go this long without it's occasional inconsistencies. Was your subconscious hallucination really thinking these things out?

You followed him to the elevator with ease, taking in your surroundings as you went. As the elevator doors closed, Spencer frowned at you once again.

"Your pupils have been dilated since you woke up." He spoke.

Yeah probably because the attractive genius I've been dreaming of for years is vividly realistic and talking to me.

"Is that a sign of head trauma?"

"Actually yes, you could be experiencing a sensitivity to light as a result of your head trauma. If that's the case, then you're in luck because it's been raining all day."

You followed Spencer out to your car, or at least you thought it was your car. You didn't exactly own one before dropping into this hallucination world. You were saving up for one, but didn't really need it as you lived close to your job and took public transit when you needed to go further distances. This car was nice, you supposed the dream BAU job payed well.

Spencer drove you to the hospital and waited in the waiting room as you received a full check up and MRI. You hoped he wasn't too bored waiting. As the doctor returned with your results you asked if Spencer could come in to hear the diagnosis. The doctor asked if he was family and you lied saying he was your fiancé. The doctor really didn't seem to care and Spencer was allowed in. He looked confident, prepared to discuss anything scientific that you may not understand yourself.

"Well Y/N, after reviewing your MRI scans and testing results, I can confidently assure you that you are perfectly healthy. We can order some blood tests for you if you wish, but from the concussion symptoms you thought you had, and from the results I have in front of me, I don't believe they are necessary." The doctor said with a smile, probably just happy to be delivering some good news.

"That can't be right." You shook your head and frowned.

"Y/N was clearly exhibiting fatigue, light sensitivity, memory loss, and confusion at work. If she's not concussed, what is wrong with her?" Spencer asked.

"I'd say your fiancé is simply experiencing the effects of exhaustion and a lack of sleep. My advice? Take her home and let her rest."

Spencer firmly shut his mouth as the doctor said "fiancé."

The doctor turned to you. "If you'd like, I can perscribe you a sleeping sedative."

You shook your head "no." You couldn't believe it; you'd slept at a reasonable hour, and you didn't feel fatigued.

Everything was starting to feel so real. The warmth of Spencer sitting so close to you felt real. The rain that fell on your skin felt real. The medicinal scent of the hospital made your feel sick. You could only think of one final way to try to wake up.

"Spencer can you stop somewhere for me?" You asked as he drove you home.

"Sure."

"Is there a lake near by?"

"Yeah...you don't remember? You've jogged on the trails near it with JJ and Morgan."

"Can you take me there? There's something I need to do."

You were beginning to grow used to the worried look on his face. The way his eyes softened reminded you of a puppy.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to you. If this was a dream concocted by your brain, wouldn't Spencer be a bit more romantic? In your dreams he could range from a hardcore, post-prison, genius, bad boy to a nerdy romantic, but he was always, obviously, interested in you right away. This Spencer seemed to be your friend, just your friend. By now he would've usually confessed his undying love and maybe taken you in the back seat of your car. Yeah, you weren't the most creative person. What kind of dream was this?

You felt a blush coming on as Spencer side-eyed you. Your brain would never torture you with a long-con, would it?

Spencer took you to the lake, walking beside you without a word, most likely thinking you were going crazy and in need of sleep. You walked to the edge of the trail and looked down at the lake. It was a ways down, the point you were standing was more like a cliff. You determined that the water must have been about a 6 second drop down for someone your size

"Y/N, why did you want me to take you out here?" Spencer asked as he eyed the waters below.

You stayed silent as you took a few steps back. You took a deep breath, and before you could second-guess yourself, you ran to the edge of the cliff and jumped.

"Y/N!" Was the last, panicked thing you heard before the body of water came rushing towards you.

Your body submerged in the icy cold water and sunk deep down from the speed at which you fell. All you could hear was the echoing pressure of the water against your eardrums. This was your last resort. You knew if anything could wake you up, it would be this, your biggest fear.

Your father had drowned, he worked on a fisherman's boat and a storm had overturned the ship far out in the ocean. All that had been recovered was assorted pieces of the ship's wreckage. You'd never even had the chance to learn how to swim as the fear had already settled in before your step-mother could arrange lessons.

If you could drown in this confusing dream-world, maybe you would wake up in time for your Criminal Minds audition.

Your lungs protested as you let yourself sink. You closed your eyes and let your muscles relax. Your head screamed at you, telling you that you absolutely should not be doing this. Fear prickled at your skin. Why did this feel like you were actually dying?

A heartbeat later, you heard the water's surface explode above you, but you didn't have the strength to look up. Your brain processed something wrapping around you and tugging you up, but you could not open your eyes to see what it was. You held on to your last bit of consciousness as you breeched the surface of the water and felt the chilly air assault your skin.

Arms pulled you somewhere. Your body was dragged up something solid, the backs of your legs scraped against rocks. It must have been land. Hands applied pressure, pushing like a heartbeat against your center, you could hardly feel it. A hand held your mouth open while another pinched your nose closed. Lips pushed, rushed, against your own as air was forced back into you. The hand left your mouth and returned to pumping.

"Come on. Come back to me Y/N. Please." Pleading followed by more air.

The strange entity repeated the process once more before you felt everything come up, forcing you back to reality.

You coughed and choked up water and bile; the rain washed it all away. Your lungs were aching and your skin was ice cold. The only warmth was what lingered from the person's lips. A hand pat and rubbed your back, helping you cough up everything. When it was all over your whole body was shivering. Your muscles gave out and a pair of arms wrapped around you, holding you up.

"Y/N."

You weakly turned your head.

Spencer. He's still here. He's really here.

He was soaked, hair ringlets stuck to his face, and his eyes were rimmed red. He looked like an angel, hand carved by Michelangelo himself.

Your brain was trying to catch up with his words.

"Y/N, I need to get you back to the car before we both go into hypothermia. Can you walk?" He asked through chattering teeth.

Your throat was killing you, so you opted for just shaking your head "no" in response.

"I'll have to carry you then, okay?"

You nodded, doubtful he could, especially in his weakened state.

He stood, grabbing his bearings before scooping you up. You weakly held his neck and lay your head on his shoulder. Your pain was numbed, you knew, from the biting cold.

Spencer managed to carry you all the way back to the car, placing you gently in the backseat and turning the heat all the way up. He climbed in the backseat with you and began to remove his jacket and tie.

"We have to remove our clothes, they're soaking wet and we have to warm up. Do you need me to help you undress?" There was no hint of teasing or slyness in Spencer's voice. He was completely serious and you knew he was right.

"I-I can't. Everything is numb." You managed to croak out, wincing at the pain it brought your throat.

"Alright, um- I'll only remove your shirt and pants."

You nodded, weakly.

Spencer removed his own shirt before carefully lifting yours over your head. He made sure to keep his eyes on your face as much as possible and not linger his gaze anywhere else. Next he removed your shoes, socks, and peeled your pants down your legs. You managed to arch your back slightly to help him. Lastly, he removed his own pants and threw all the clothes in a pile on the floor of you car.

"I'm going to hold you now, if that's alright. We need each other's body heat." Spencer looked less confident now. You managed to nod a "yes."

If you weren't so close to death, you knew your brain would be shorting out at the thought of being held by a half-naked, and very real, Spencer Reid.

He helped you lay down across the seats and settled in next to you. He wrapped his arms around you and rubbed his hands along your shoulders and back in an effort to warm you and massage your tensed muscles.

A few minutes of this went by before you could finally move. You wrapped your arms around Spencer, holding him close as his body warmed your own, and you cried against his chest.

One thought repeated over and over again in your head.

This is real.

You worked for the BAU and Spencer Reid had just saved your life. 

Next Chapter

[darkmindsotome]

Risque Rouge pt15

Tagging: @umbralaperture​ @otome-smut-queen @silver-fox-of-azuchi @tsundere-mitsuhide @jennacat84

General warnings for the whole fic: Angst, some fluff, Mental health issues, emotional things, trauma, blood, death and possible triggers. Please read responsibly. 

Darkmindsotome Masterlist

---

Chapter 15

As plans went this had been perfect. It was an accident that could have happened at any time and in any part of the city. He was lucky to already know exactly where he could find a coach without its driver, all he needed was the perfect moment. Everything was arranged and it would have been considered simple bad luck that someone should be fatally crushed under the sheer force of the runaway horse dragging its carriage. It would have worked, should have worked.

Latour looked at the failure of what should have been a gloriously devastating demise. His eyes burned with hatred as he watched the female interact with the two men from his hiding place.

“Curses!” He hissed as his fist pounded the wall of the building before, he spun on his heel snarling as he walked away.

---

This had to be an out of the frying pan into the fire moment. Evie watched the two men in a silent standoff feeling completely useless. It was true she had run and she was scared. Yes, Comte had been part of the reason for that but he hadn’t hurt her. She did wonder about his approach when they were at the café but not once in all the times, they had been together, was he anything less than pleasant and kind.

Evie was more than aware he had every right to be upset with her right now. Acting the way she had must have truly hurt him. She saw the pained look in his eyes when she reflexively slapped his hand away. There was more there though, he had a melancholy look that was complete forgiveness. It was as if he would accept anything no matter how much it hurt him as long as it was what she wished. It hurt.

While her chest constricted in the grip of a coiling serpent intent on crushing her the man blocking her spoke.

“What sneaky games are you trying to play with this girl? Are you not entertained enough?” There was a tangible threat from the man shielding her from Comte. He was speaking without formality which could have meant he didn’t care to be polite to a potential menace but the fact Comte called him by name must mean they knew each other.

“I am not playing games, sneaky or otherwise. Genevieve is my charge and in my care.” Comte was smiling that same smile he had on his face when talking to Arthur.

“Then why was she so terrified of you just now?” Napoleon moved slightly and Evie had visions of this entire situation going bad fast. She didn’t know if Comte was aware of the look on his own face or if it was a miscalculation on his part because right now it was more taunting than intimidating. For all the mistakes made so far, she didn’t wish to have one result in a fight in front of her. She broke free of the human barrier, with pain lancing up her leg and placed herself between the two men.

“Please stop.”  She gave a quick glance to Comte over her shoulder before turning to Napoleon. “Thank you, Monsieur, you rescued me.”

To say Comte was stunned would have been a very accurate description right now. This woman really did seem to swing on a pendulum to the point where she was hard to predict. He thought he had scared her and she would not go anywhere near him so why was she standing as if to protect him now?

“I only did what anyone would do.” Napoleon seemed to be equally perplexed looking at the sudden change in the woman who was basically a trembling mess only minutes before. His green eyes looked behind her quizzically towards Comte who didn’t know what to say.

He had felt and still did feel terrible for how he handled everything back at the café. Hindsight has a way of making every situation seem like a bad move and he already was well aware even without the help of reflection that his approach was a terrible choice.

“No, you did more because you were the one to risk yourself on my foolishness.” Evie lowered her head the trembling in her body was still very likely to make a repeat appearance but right now she was determined to make sure nothing else happened. “What this man says is true. I am in his care, he is my sponsor. It was true I was careless and running but…”

“Evie.” Comte’s voice was quiet. His eyes fell on the back of her lowered head in awe.

She was hurt she had been scared and still suffering the aftermath of everything that had been said and done. He could feel it, he felt her swirling emotions as strongly as if they were his own, the pain in her taking grip on his own body. Still, she was trying to smooth over a situation that was nowhere near as drastic as she thought it was. A wry smile formed on his face and his expression softened as he watched her. She was stronger than she knew and so beautiful. Napoleon didn’t miss the subtle interaction and looked at the young woman in front of him as if he just remembered something.

“So, you are the Mademoiselle from the mansion?”

“You know me?” Evie looked up her emerald eyes finding his clear jade green ones.

There really was something about this man, it was different from Comte and also different when compared to the other soldier in the mansion. It was a quiet dominance that gave subliminal weight to anything he did, even standing still talking with him projected the idea you were talking to a born leader.

“Of you. Sebastian informed me of a new guest and said that they were a lady.” The air around Napoleon felt much friendlier as it seemed the misunderstanding from before had all but been forgotten. Evie looked back at Comte. He said he would tell the rest of the guests himself, not that she wanted to pry into why Sebastian had been the one to inform this man instead.

There was obviously a little tension between the two men, it wasn’t bad, but it was certainly one that came from a place of respect rather than blind trust. It was very hard to explain and she didn’t even understand how she could feel something so slight from people she had just met.

Uncle had always said she was very sensitive and observant but this was more, it was a feeling that she instinctively didn’t question. People talk about intuition but that had always seemed a little off to her. Even with a strong intuition it was easy to second guess and lose yourself. This was a profound sensation and it was strange because it felt a lot like being more than one person at once in her own body.

“Genevieve this is Napoleon, he is also a guest of mine.” Comte issued the late introduction after the conversation finally seemed to allow for it.

“Is there anyone in Paris who is not a guest of yours?” Evie’s question was out long before her good sense could talk her out of it. Her eyes went saucer round and she clamped her hand over her mouth. “Erm…”

By this point, Comte was used to her little outbursts. Whilst they still had a tendency to catch him off guard, he was inclined to look upon her fondly rather than feel the desire to chastise her. Besides judging by her reaction and the way she was currently looking she was giving herself a much harsher lecture than he could. While Comte and Evie were looking at each other a loud eruption of laughter burst forth from Napoleon.

“Pff -- Bwahaha!”

“I’m sorry.” Evie muttered her apology flinching when Comte placed a hand on her shoulder. Noticing her reaction, he retracted his hand. The brief touch of warmth he felt freezing over as he felt the penalty strike him as he feared it would if he hurt her. He tried to ignore the way that information sat like a steel weight in his chest. Convincing himself he should be content with simply watching her.

“No don’t be I – hahaha – I’m glad to see the shock didn’t do any damage to your body or conviction. Haha pardon. I like how honest you are.” Napoleon was struggling to stop himself from continuing his peel of laughter his shoulders were still shaking as he tried to stifle it and speak.

“If we are finished here, I think it would be best to return home.” Comte interjected which seemed to help Napoleon gather enough power to get his laughter under control.

“Home?” Evie asked curiously before taking an interest in the people around them. The gathering of onlookers was a little smaller but she was very aware that even if they had returned to their previous tasks they were still glancing in her direction.

Still, when Comte said home he meant the mansion and there was a feeling of chilling dread that filled her chest as she thought of that. Could she go back there and cheat what she feared most in her mind? Would she avoid being the source of someone else’s pain or would she fail and have another torment to add to her collection?

“Yes, we need to tend to that ankle of yours.” Comte drew a little closer, sensing of her rising anxiety.

He wanted to take her hand as he had always done but she recoiled at his touch and he did not wish to be an added source of her discomforts. He hoped that his words could be enough reassurance to her and she would choose to come back. He tried to ignore the selfish desire he had to be alone with her once more. He wanted to apologise properly and allow for dialogue to once more be open between them. He knew how detrimental the passage of time could be as it passed by removing the opportunity to speak freely. The only survivor of the situation being the air of extreme awkwardness that hung like a cloud.

“I don’t really…” Evie hesitated and winced again the pain in her ankle silencing her.

Napoleon hadn’t pushed for details and he was not stupid enough to get in the middle of a lover’s quarrel. He could see the concern in Comte’s eyes as he watched the young girl with black hair. He had seen similar looks in the eyes of men on the battlefield. It was a look of understanding your fate is in the hands of another and acceptance that their actions would define the world to come.

The woman was curious, it wasn’t that he was immune to her charms he felt them keenly drawing him in. It made him instinctively wish to help her. It was strange and he had felt something similar when he had experienced meeting Comte for the first time.  He took a certain level of pride in being a good judge of character and he found her to be interesting, honest and trustworthy.

“I’ll join you as well as I was on my way back anyway.” Napoleon spoke up in response to the idea of returning. He had been on his way back anyway so it was of little concern to him if he travelled alone or with companionship. If his presence meant that the young lady should feel more settled than if she were to travel with only le Comte for company then he considered it his duty to do at least that much.

“Did you not ride into town?” Comte enquired feeling a deflated sensation taking hold of him.

“Not today.” Napoleon didn’t seem to care or notice the shadows crossing the amber eyes of the pure blood Count. He did, however, slip his arm around the waist of the injured girl. He did it in such a way that it was completely natural, a silent declaration of the fact this is where it should be. Evie could not find the words to protest and found her weight naturally leaning on the strong arm around her as Napoleon guided her towards the carriages.

Comte knew it was to support her and help her. He knew it was a purely platonic motion and there was nothing meaningful about it. Logically he knew all this and still a dark whisper in his mind had him questioning every small glance and muscle twitch between the two now walking in front of him.

“Well isn’t that splendid?”

---

“So, it failed.” Amos sat mulling over the ill-fated news as he watched the foam dissolve on the head of beer in his glass.

“Yes. There was interference and the female found protection at the most inconvenient time.” Latour had appeared like a tempest and was working his anger out on a bowl of nuts crushing the shells in his bare hands, placing their contents to the side. He didn’t really like nuts, he didn’t really enjoy any human food anymore. It was all ash in his mouth.

Blood was all he craved to slate his thirst and fill his belly. Alcohol provided a change in pace, whilst providing natural cover from the passing observer. Cigarettes helped keep him busy, it was a throwback to his time as a human. Watching the curling smoke from the lit shredded tobacco, how it filled his lungs. It helped him focus, it helped him think and it blocked out some of the atrocious scents of the cattle around him.

“Not by the Reo’s doing?” Amos asked watching the bowl of mixed nuts grow empty. He was a little pleased that his disciple had learnt to vent his anger in a way that drew less attention to him. He remembered how troublesome it had been in previous years during training when he had been forced to keep a tight leash on him or risk exposure.

“No, it was another. One from the mansion although they are not part of the familia.” Latour reached a particularly stubborn walnut and after squeezing it towards its obliteration he finally seemed to relax.

“Did they suspect foul play?” Amos drank the dregs of his pint and scooped up a handful of the freshly shelled nuts on the table.

“No, My Lord” Latour confirmed what was possibly the only saving grace of the misadventure. Failure was not an option Latour knew it would spell the end of everything for him. His master had no use for tools that could not fulfil a task.

“Good, then there is still a chance we can approach the matter again.” Amos smiled the lamplight caught the very tip of his exposed fangs before he expertly moved his head playing it off as a trick of the light for anyone who might have seen it.

“What would you have me do?”

---

[crispychrissy]

Bed of Roses - Chapter 1

Summary: Y/N finds some strange abnormalities with some medical records, and when she continues to look into it after her boss tells her not to, things take a turn for the worse. Characters: Nurse!Reader, Gordon Walker, Sabrina (OFC) Word Count: 1412 Warnings: Medical situations and discussions, angst, violence A/N: Welcome to a new journey! This chapter is short, but it’s a lead up to the journey the reader is going to be taken on. I am in the medical field (I do the reader’s job, just on the side of the insurance company), so there is some calloused mentions of medical situations that I have seen before. And yes, Sabrina is a real nurse I work with and yes, she’s that annoying. Tags are open for this series so please send an ask!

Bed of Roses Masterlist — Complete Masterlist

“Never ceases to amaze me what people shove up their butts,” one of the nurses from the ER muttered as she walked into the health management and insurance review office, carelessly tossing a patient file onto the only occupied desk.

Glancing up, Y/N stopped typing, removed her hands from under the file, and placed it into the overflowing box labeled ‘New’ sitting a mere foot away from where the nurse had dropped it. “People do a lot of things, Sabrina. Good thing the human body is so resilient.”

Sabrina chuckled and snapped her gum, giving Y/N a lazy shrug. “Tell that to Mr. Isaacs,” she gestured to the folder, “who decided to shove a beer bottle up his ass and then take a shower. He fell, bottle shattered… you know the rest. Dude bled out from a perforated colon and died forty five minutes ago.”

Being a nurse herself, Y/N understood the callous nature of some people in the medical field, but it still didn’t make it easy to hear a co-worker speak without any compassion whatsoever. “That’s a tough break,” she grimaced at the unintentional pun that made Sabrina snort, “but I’ll take care of the insurance clinicals and submit it for processing.”

Sabrina blinked at her. “Yeah, I know. That’s like… your job. Duh.” With another snap of her gum, the ER nurse spun on her heel and left the room, finally leaving Y/N alone once more.

It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy being around people, she just enjoyed being alone more. Tasked with gathering clinical documents to submit to insurance companies for approval, her department only had two people in it. One was her, and the other was the department lead and her boss, Gordon Walker. What the man lacked in personality he made up for by allowing Y/N to do her work in peace. She was good, fast, and dependable.

She never let anything slip.

Which is why the patient file she was currently processing drew her attention. There was so much missing information, it was as if the file was documented carelessly or was done by someone who didn’t understand what fields need to be filled out.

The only information on the file was a name, Dean Winchester, and year of birth, 1979. There was no admit date, no diagnosis, and no insurance information. Usually, if a patient is uninsured, there’s a code that’s used to flag the file so it doesn’t land on Y/N’s desk; no insurance means there’s nothing for her to submit. But in this case, the field was left completely blank.

Thinking it was just a clerical error, she opened up the medical record search box on her computer and typed this mystery man’s information in. Her eyebrows shot up when the program notified her that there were fourteen matches based on his name and year of birth.

“What the hell?” she mumbled to herself as she scrolled through each record, realizing that each patient file is just as incomplete as the one on her desk. None of the files ever crossed her desk, so it wasn’t anything she overlooked, but it was still a huge error on the part of the hospital and needed to be corrected.

Highlighting all the files, she printed each admit form out and tucked them neatly into a folder. Gordon would need to be made aware of what Y/N discovered so they could figure out how this Dean Winchester fella had been receiving free medical care over the last decade without anyone noticing. She set his file and the folder filled with admit forms to the side and continued processing the stack of patient files that seemed to be a permanent fixture on her desk, regardless of how fast she worked.

When Gordon strolled into the office thirty minutes later, Y/N caught his attention and gathered the files before walking over to his desk right as he sat down.

“Hey, Gordon. This file came across my desk and it’s incomplete,” she passed him the patient file, “but when I tried to look up this patient’s name in the medical records database, there’s fourteen more incomplete admit forms that come up. I don’t know how nobody caught this, but I wanted to bring it to your attention.”

Gordon flipped open the patient file and his body tensed as his eyes studied the name printed on the page. Immediately, he shut the file and tossed it - along with the folder of admit forms - into the confidential information bin to be incinerated.

“Forget you ever saw those, Y/N,” Gordon warned, pointing a finger at her. “The file landed on your desk by mistake and the Winchesters are nothing you need to worry about.”

“But -”

“That’s an order,” he interrupted. “Now get back to work.”

Y/N opened her mouth to argue more, but decided against it, dejectedly making her way back over to her desk and sitting down. The more she thought about it, the more things didn’t add up. That, and the fact that Gordon said Winchesters, plural. Something else was going on, and Y/N was nothing if not diligent. If there was anything untoward going on, she’d get to the bottom of it and bring it to the attention of the administration staff if she found anything.

Once Gordon was distracted with his own work, she continued processing the patient files on her desk, but also began searching through medical records for patients with blank files that have the last name of Winchester. There were several complete files, but she found multiple files under the names John and Sam Winchester with the same incomplete status as Dean.

After a quick break for lunch, Y/N continued working and continued digging deeper and deeper into the fragmented medical history of these mysterious Winchesters. There were some consistencies in their sparse documentation, though. Almost all of their patient files had originated in the ER’s trauma unit, meaning there was some kind of life threatening injury that brought them in. Based on the amount of times each man was here, they were some of the clumsiest people in the world.

Or they lived very dangerous lives.

The afternoon passed in a blur, and Y/N waved goodbye to an oddly skittish Gordon as he grabbed his coat and left the room, leaving an hour early for the second week in a row. She never complained, though. This job allowed her the freedom to work alone without being spit on, peed on, pooped on, or otherwise abused by patients. She was still helping, but behind the scenes.

The next time she glanced at the clock, it was just past five-thirty, a half an hour after her shift was supposed to end. There was nobody waiting at home for her, so she wasn’t concerned. She locked up patient files, turned off her computer, and stored the list of medical record numbers she gathered from all of the Winchester’s incomplete cases in one of the bottom drawers of her desk.

It was tomorrow’s problem, now.

Gathering her purse and coat, she shut the light off and locked the door to the office before leaving the hospital and making the long trek across the property to the employee parking lot. It was a rather large hospital campus, but the cool fall air was nice compared to the stuffy recycled hospital air in her office.

The parking garage was quiet, and she paused when she noticed some of the lights near her car were burned out. The outages looked random, and there was still plenty of light, so she only gave a cautionary glance around before continuing to her car.

The second her key slipped into the lock on the driver’s side door, something heavy hit her over the head and her body was slammed against the side of her car. Panic set in and she began fighting, ignoring the immense pain burning in the back of her skull. Something sharp piercing her neck made her try to scream, but the second she parted her lips, a wool glove was pressed against her mouth, silencing her.

Her body felt heavy and her vision was blurry, and she stumbled once the arms wrapped around her body released her. Spinning around, she squinted at the blurry outline of someone dressed in black and the last thing she heard before everything went dark was a man’s voice.

“Got her.”

Forevers [CLOSED]: @katymacsupernatural @queen-of-deans-booty @your-modern-shakespeare @wheresthekillswitch @holyfuckloueh @just-another-busy-fangirl @growningupgeek @jensen-gal @mizzezm @there-must-be-a-lock @atc74 @pilaxia @supernatural-jackles @impala-dreamer @bambi95-blog @wonderfulworldofwinchester @batmmgray @brooke-supernatural16 @dwgrl1903 @hey-bxtch @turnttoverr @kittenofdoomage @leanbeankeane @emoryhemsworth @xalgaliareptx @mhnfatima @bi-e-ne @speakinvain @pebblesz892 @kararanae23 @kassablanca13 @mogaruke @tockettt @imagining-supernatural @wildefire @serienjunkiegirl @mrswhozeewhatsis @stars-and-seas @jaremish @ellen-reincarnated1967 @nyxveracity @andkatiethings @bamby0304 @deathtonormalcy56 @winchesterprincessbride @moonstar86 @missihart23 @mrs-meghan-winchester @miss-rebel-without-applause @dean-winchesters-bacon @curly-haired-disaster @supernatural-teamfreewillpage

Dean/Jensen: @akshi8278 @adoptdontshoppets @focusonspn​ @spnwoman

Bed of Roses tags: @fangirl-and-medstudent-help @somilotopia @animatenebrae @jessieray98 @docharleythegeekqueen @ellallheart @superflurry @holylulusworld @anathewierdo @flamencodiva @notyourtypicalrose @ladycynthia @maddiepants @mirandaaustin93 @the-is13 @spn--imagines @oneshoeshort @waitwhatsrealityagain @sexykitten253 @stupidtrashprincess @the-walking-daryl @thebooksiwishtoread @momma-loves-her-some-capnbucky @kbl1313 @winchasterdean @hopefulcolorcollectorsthings

[oblivion-time]

OT’s writing in 2017

I saw people having this thing as an ask me these questions and I’ll answer them thingy, so I decided to answer almost all of them and make it into a post! Sort of a 2017 rewind of my writing in this year. I suck at leaving short answers, but hey, my rambling can be enjoyable at some point! ^-^

Favourite fic you wrote this year

I gotta say Love Me Again, Husband just because I had so many ideas and thoughts about how I wanted this fic to turn out. It’s always so much more fun when you know what you want to do with it and writing on it was never boring just because there were no fighting scene. That’s why it because the length it did. Too many ideas, stubborn me refused to not include them and too much fun working on it.

Least favourite fic you wrote this year

The Wolf who Huffed and Puffed. Definitely. I had a vague idea what I wanted, but I just think the more I wrote on it, the more the plot fell apart and it became what it is. I finished it around in... Marsh/April, but it was just so shitty I so didn’t want to post it, but some people seemed to enjoy it so, I posted it for them. (And I would post the last chapters of it this year just to be done with it, but I don’t want to post it during Resbang season. I want to respect those who have the posting date)

Favourite line/scene you wrote this year

ALDENTE NOODLE LEGS!!! Technically I came up with it during resbang season 2016, but I used it in my Corpse Party AU and I’m just in love with the line! Every time I get to describe weak legs, I use aldente noodle legs.

Total number of words you wrote this year

This was so not my writing year. The spring season and summer season was completely dry for me. I barely wrote anything because of a lot of personal problems that kept me busy. But my total is 235′316. My resbang totally lifted the number and a lot of it is stories I haven’t published yet and some ongoing projects I haven’t quite yet finished.

Most popular fic this year

I don’t bring in numbers on my work, that’s one thing for sure. The fic I publish during resbang season will always bring in the most readers. Aside from my resbang this year, Death Child surprisingly did quite well on both AO3 and ff.net. I thought I sort of cheated on the climax and it was a mediocre fic, but people seemed to really like it

Least popular fic this year

I would say Ripple Effect. When I wrote it I knew people wouldn’t like it consider the whole fic is just Soul wasting away and dying and all the angst, but I had the idea and I felt like working on it, so I did.

Longest completed fic you wrote this year

Love Me Again, Husband

Shortest completed fic you wrote this year

That is published, it’s Ripple Effect

Longest wip of the year

It’s got to be my Corpse Party AU. I’ve written around 33k of it so far and it’s nowhere near finished.

Shortest wip of the year

It’s a story I’m working on now. I’m not going to spoil much, but I can say the story revolves around a complicated timeline. It will be a short one-shot, but it is just a practice run to get me back into the game of Corpse Party. Mark my words, my Corpse Party AU will be finished in 2018!!

Fandom you enjoyed writing for the most this year

Soul Eater. Duh.

Favourite character to write about this year

Soul. Definitely. He was so much fun writing in Love Me Again, Husband because Maka is so secure and strong and even if losing your identity in the way he did, she would be more determined and sure than Soul would me. We know Soul has a past and he has some problems revolving around his identity, he was the perfect candidate for a brain trauma like that and highlight the complexity and difficult of regaining a lost identity. With the whole fic I wanted to shine light on the difficulty to regain a lost identity because I think the movie (The Vow) romanticized that part quite a bit and toned down the harshness on the person’s mental health. I really wanted to show people that and Soul was too perfect for the job. But in other cases, I just love writing about Soul since he has such an interesting life since he’s so human with his flaws that makes him human.

A fic you didn’t expect to write

Milkshake. It’s just such a dumb idea I had that I knew I should just skip on writing, but I just enjoyed the thought of their first meeting and how they shared milkshakes I just couldn’t help myself.

Something you learned this year

When I write, I write pretty fast. When I’m meant to write “from”, it often turns to “form” instead. It’s like 99% of the cases it turns like that and I know when I read through the fic, I need to pay extra attention to those words.

fic(s) you completed this year

The Wolf who Huffed and Puffed (I finished it this year, I just haven’t posted it all)

Love Me Again, Husband

Death Child

Ripple Effect

Cardcaptor Sakura AU

Milkshake

Fics you’ll continue next year

My Corpse Party AU. It was meant to be finished this summer before Resbang, but some personal business prevented me from doing so. My timeline complexity fic will also be finished next year if I don’t complete it tonight or tomorrow, which is unlikely.

Current number of wips

Two. Corpse Party AU and the timeline complexity fic

Any new fics to start next year

I have a fic I wanted to write for resbang two years ago instead of Chase of Tales so that one I definitely want to write this year! I also will post the one-shots for my Circus and Reality fic and wrap it up. I would also love to rewrite some of my older stories since a few of them are really good ideas, just the execution of it was terrible so I would love to do that and show to myself how much I have matured as a person and in my writing compared to then.

Number of comments you haven’t read

I read all the comments! I haven’t missed a single one!

Most memorable comment/review

It has to be the comment on my Chase of Tales fic. I am highly offended by the tiny amount of kudos given to this fic! I only became even more frustrated each time I read a chapter, pressed "kudos" and saw the same infuriating few words pop up time and time again: "You have already left kudos here"

It’s comments like these that reminds me not always numbers and comments reflect on how well the writing and plot is. I know A LOT of people who get stuck on how many comments they get, how well the comments are written or how many kudos it gets to the point  it almost crosses the line of “I worked hard on this so I’m entitled to a lot of recognition and praise.” Numbers doesn’t mean shit. It’s your own feelings about the work that counts. Does it boost my ego when I get comments of people who like what I made, yes it does, but do I write to just get comments and praise? Absolutely not. Then I wouldn’t have kept on writing.

Events you participated in this year

Resbang and SoMa Week 2017 are the only two events I can remember attending.

Fics you wanted to write but didn’t

It’s an angsty fic. The idea was Maka and Soul loved each other in university, but they had to break up because they were going in different directions and moved to different places. They would run into each other during different times in their life, and it would always be something to prevent them from being together, but in the end when they are old in an elderly home, they would coincidentally be placed in the same home and there they could finally be together. If anybody feels up to writing it, feel free to use the idea! If someone decides to write it, please tag me, I would love to read it!!!

Favourite fic you read this year

This is the year when I didn’t read a lot of newer fan fics and I’m going to be a little narcissistic, but I really loved rereading my story The Face of the Beast. The idea is so good and I really enjoyed how it turned out even if there are some parts I would’ve changed.

No but for real, two fics that I always enjoy going back to and rereading are Moving on and Letting Go by Fantasy Fan Girl and Repairing a Broken Soul by Narusaku1357. When I started reading fics, those two I read early on and I simply enjoy going back to them and reading them since I genuinely enjoy them. Not to forget Repairing a Broken Soul is legit and totally a classic. It’s a fic everybody should read.

A fic you read this year you would recommend everyone read

Check the answer above! You will not regret reading those two fics.

Number of favourites/bookmarks you made this year

Oh geez. I’m really bad at leaving favourites and kudos. I read all my fics on my app on my phone and... well... I just add them to my library. I’m shitty when it comes leaving kudos, favourites and comments.

Favourite fanfic author of the year

My favourite will always be Tatsu-Ah-Rei. No competition. No one can ever touch the originality combined with the Soul Eater universe in such a way they do. I so love Eat My Soul (it’s a great one! READ IT! But I warn you, it isn’t completed and it ends just at the most exciting scene and at the climax). There will never be a fanfic writer as good as they are in my eyes.

[pendragonfics]

About Me Or The Devil

My Soul’s Freezing: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three

Paring: Armitage Hux/Reader

Tags: female reader, reader is a princess, arranged marriage AU, married couple, sharing a bed, canon compliant, set after Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Hux-centric, reader-centric, angst, canon-typical violence, fluff, uneasy allies

Summary: Reader is the illegitimate firstborn to a King, a false princess. Her father signs a treaty with the First Order, who in turn for peace for her home planet, offers a marriage between General Armitage Hux and Reader. Little do they know of her bloodlines, and of the General himself.

Armitage can't understand your silence, and you cannot bear to be near a man as feared and deadly as the leader of the First Order. Help from those around comes in handy.

Word Count: 3,519

Posting Date:  2016-11-31

Current Date: 2017-06-08

HUX

Life went on for Armitage from that day. He wasn't sure why he thought that thought, but it was in his mind, nonetheless. He donned his suit, left early in the morning, and continued his work as the finest General the First Order had seen in their current times. He spared a thought for his new wife, thinking of how she appeared in the bed as he crept from it before the wee hours; her hair a mess upon the pillow, eyes closed tight as if dreaming of her fears and other unpleasantness. She was yet to say a word to him, and Armitage did not mind. He only spoke to her because, well, they were married, and he needed to be places and do important things. If anything, he wished the whole affair could be forgotten, and then maybe after time, they would warm up to one another.

Lieutenant Dopheld Mitaka milled around the vicinity, keeping an eye on all the workers that he could not see while back turned. He had given him a promotion, after Kylo Ren had throttled him, and now Mitaka was away from the likes of the Darth Vader's grandson, he seemed to be more at ease, and more dedicated to his work.

"I see you're the wedded man, now, General." The modulated voice spoke behind Armitage. Without needing to turn, he knew it to be Kylo Ren, Snoke's student himself. He was finally out of the medbay's infirmary, and gladly so. It was apparent he had began to, while on the better half of the mend, torment his nurses and doctors with Jedi mind tricks and taunting them with the force. He didn't like it when his people were demeaned. "Ah, and your ring? Shouldn't you be wearing it?"

"I am wearing it, Ren, you of all people should know jewellery is not regulation nor does fit over fitted gloves," He gritted. The force user nodded, and he added, "Besides, why do you care? Before you know it, Snoke might have found you a bride, or groom of your own," he taunted his counterpart.

Kylo Ren nodded. "I sense something at unrest with you, General. Be it that perhaps, your home life has come to frighten you into acting a way?" But the words he spoke were not taunts. They were as clear a day an observation, an invasion of Armitage's thoughts and feelings.

"Stop fishing in my mind," he growled.

"Stop projecting your insecurities," he retorted, as if they were not two grown men, wearing black and bickering upon a fighter ship within the depths of space. "We, General, have not much in common with one another, but if there is one thing I know better than the Force, it is that we both share difficult childhoods, and have bitter memories.

---

READER

It was four days after the wedding, and yet, you were to speak a word to your husband. Perhaps he preferred it that way; you weren't sure, and sure as the stars were not about to ask him. The betrayal of your bloodline, your father selling you like a mule to marry a pompous red-headed merciless man, your step-mother treating you like manure all of your life to be treated like one of her own, full-blooded daughters in the trade for peace. And the fact that, when you walked down the room four days ago, the General, Armitage Hux had looked almost human, seemed and sounded so until the spell had broken, and work needed to be completed.

In four days, you had lay by yourself on the farthest side of the bed, curled into your own body like a mite in a wall seeking warmth. You had prepared dinner, for yourself and your husband, to find he had already eaten out at the cafeteria in the base, woken early, too early to be awake to see him leave you a lukewarm half of the bed smelling of his cologne and the crisp scent of metal.

You had sat around in his living quarters, in varying states of boredom, hoping -- praying that you could find the courage to speak to him, like a human being should. Your voice was starting to go, having not be used as often as you had talked back on your home planet, accustoming itself to whispering to yourself for fear of being heard, murmuring lullabies when the bed was empty when you went to bed to lull yourself to rest.

There was one thing, that was good about being alone, especially being alone with a Datapad that your husband had allotted to you. It meant that with all the wild thoughts you were thinking, the untamable side of you that you'd thought been because of your bad bloodline, could come out into words. Into poetry.

"I see you found the Datapad I left for you," you jolted in the armchair, meeting the cold gaze of your husband, the General of the First Order. "I made sure it was offline, so you could not accidentally contact anyone of rank under my name, to cause trouble."

You nod. "Thank you," the words tumble out before you can catch them; they are the first words you had spoken to him. He is still for a moment, almost as if he is stunned that this is what your voice sounds like. Then, he straightens his coat, and moves toward the bedroom to change into after hours dress. "Did...did you have a good day?" you add.

Once more, his footsteps are halted. Turning, he looks to you where you are seated, and nodding, replies, "I suppose I did. Ren did not wreck any equipment," his words are factual, empty. Like food without nutrition, a body with no soul inside. "And the GT unit graduated to combat-ready troopers."

You nod. "But did you not...feel anything?" you ask him. "I mean, did you have a good day...did it feel like a good day?" I can see him hesitate, just ever so slightly before shaking his head, and marching off to change his clothes. It was almost like he was human, for a glimmer of a second, like he was something I could see anywhere, a face, and not a fascist fan of warfare, a general of the First Order. "...I wish I had someone to talk to," you mutter aloud.

---

HUX

He had never anticipated that the only man he could turn to about his home life problems was the man who had always seemed to be against him in all he wished to complete as general. Kylo Ren had always been a troubling figure, and always will be, seeing as his volatile nature had not decreased since his ass-kicking by the scavenger girl. But, when he was with a moment to spare, Armitage would find himself seeking words of wisdom from the man who had killed his own father, and abandoned his family and all he loved for a life serving Supreme Leader Snoke. How strange.

"She spoke to me yesterday," he muttered over his hot cup. It was rare that he had time for a cup Caf like a civilised human being, but here he was, standing with Kylo Ren like he had all the time in the world as their new base was being processed. "A handful of words. Wanted to know about my feelings."

Behind the mask, he made a noise. "Feelings? What useless things."

He made a humming nose, inhaling the fumes of the caffeine, the beautiful smell of productivity and rarely sourced beans. "I know. But when I answered, I don't think she liked what I said."

Kylo Ren shrugged, turning his back toward the officers in the area below where they stood on the bridge. "If I were you, I wouldn't care about what she liked. But, I'm not you, and you have to live the rest of your life with her, and you need to figure out what this young woman wants from you in order to live somewhat a little of the life you used to live." His voice is deep, but not threatening in the way he delivers the warning. It's almost like Kylo Ren is living through his actions; doing things he might have wished to do if he was not the student of Snoke. "You're not a bachelor anymore, General."

He nods. "Perhaps I need to talk to someone about...feelings...before I take it up with ________ Hux." He tips his cup back, draining the liquids into his system like fuel into a ship. It's then he wonders if the Captain has any time on her hands to talk with him.

---

READER

In the rooms, you turn the Datapad from you. It's almost like that piece of machinery is all you have now; ever since the pair of you shared words, there has been silence. It had seemed a bad idea to talk to your husband in the first place, but now it has been almost a week since, and there have been no more words spread since.

You had been raised to be a social creature, albeit, not the real deal that your sisters were, but being surrounded by one man, and a Datapad was no company for a Princess. And here you are; holed up like a hostage, wearing clothes that smelt odd, eating foods you hadn't before, sleeping beside a man who ignored you and screamed at all like he was the devil, or a demon, or even a monster, and where you were was his domain, his hell.

You mightn't have been the perfect princess by blood, or by training, but there was one thing you sure could do, and that was write. Even if it was terrible, it was out of your head; one less thought buzzing around like a mysterious bee's case solved. It wasn't long until your fingers were dancing over the Datapad's keypad like spiders with tap-dancing shoes, the words spelling poetry that had poisoned your mind to paralysis until that moment. You expelled the thoughts, all of the thoughts; the terror of your father abandoning you like he did, the marriage, the trauma of leaving your home planet for an indefinite (most likely for the rest of your life), being near the man who had ordered the death of people under the name of the First Order.

The door opened.

You slid the Datapad underneath a cushion beside you on the couch, turning to see your husband Armitage Hux entering the room. But it was not your husband who came forth; it was not a man you had met before. He was covered head to toe in black, robes and gloves, pants, boots, and the mask - he was Kylo Ren, grandson of the feared Darth Vader.

"Are you here to kill me?" you whisper. With every step he takes toward you, your blood chills, colder and colder until you're sure your heart will surely stop, and you shall be dead before he lands the force nor hand upon you.

He shakes his head. "I am here to speak."

---

HUX

Captain Phasma did not seem the type of person to have an office. She did not seem the kind of person to be interested in romance novels either, but Armitage knew his staff, and he knew them well, and with nearly little encouragement, he was sitting in her office, discussing his personal life over the three novels he had managed to procure in case of an emergency such as this.

"General," her voice modulator intoned.

"Captain," he replied.

She placed her hands upon the desk that separated the pair of them, glancing to the books he had found from a trader who printed copies of what was known as the underground market for love literature. "From your message, I hear it is because of your ability to be straightforward, and a great General that is straining your relationship with your new wife." She gets to the business quickly, leaning forward. "But what you haven't told me is that you haven't tried to ask her if she's okay. If she feels safe, if she needs anything."

He is silent for a moment. "...what?"

Phasma removes her helmet, and clears her voice. Without the modulator straining her words, she clarifies, pushing her ice blonde crop from her eyes, "Sir, I know you have had a troubled life, more than what most people do encounter, but know that she might have connections, complications, roots that tie her from your place here, and without nurture, she will be a shell."

He chuckles. "I didn't know you were such a woman of words, Captain."

She growls, placing her helmet back onto her shoulders. "I have to return to the HY unit before they begin to shoot each other on accident," she marches off, her great stride evident of her gruff retort. But inside, Armitage knows she's thankful for more reading material, and to help out above and beyond her grade.

---

READER

Kylo Ren sat beside you, but not half an hour later, he was making points to you which made clearer a sense than anything you had been able to find in your rational mind. If you had thought no more than a week ago you would be seated beside the most dangerous force user the galaxy had seen since the tyrannical reign of Darth Vader, and Darth Sidious themselves, and there was no killing involved of either party, you would have dismissed it as a daydream.

"...you mean, he's just under orders?" you summarise the modulated voice of the man beside you. "He's still a shitty person for doing evil stuff. Stars, that's the worse excuse anyone has ever tried to give me, and I've been lied to a lot." you huff, crossing your arms. 

Kylo Ren shakes his head. "I thought you were a princess, _______, aren't princesses supposed to be docile creatures?"

You narrow your eyes. Was your mother docile? 

He grunts. "I heard that. But you're right. She was always doing her best for all she could. Even if she couldn't save me...she never has stopped fighting for her causes." You wonder if there is remorse in his voice, but you remember who you're talking to. Kylo Ren probably has been programmed since a young age to not feel anything like that. "I'm still a man, you know. As is Armitage."

You nod. "Sorry."

He waves a gloved hand. "I shouldn't even be here, let alone talking to his wife, but you need to know that the only way to get through to Hux is through his heart, as cold as Hoth as it seems. He wasn't always the top dog he seems to be." You go to ask, but he waves you off. "Armitage was a bastard, whose father only kept alive due to the fact his stepmother, was infertile. Brendol Hux needed an heir, and an admiral in training, and subjected him to a life of training to be the machine he is today." 

Your hands upon your lap grow cold -- your blood, your thoughts; it was almost like you. What was it with powerful men spreading their seed around like a devil-may-care gardener? You realise all too late that with these thoughts in your mind, the man before you has already read them.

"You're not a true princess," he stands, towering over you.

You snap up, whipped onto your feet, trying to match his height. "And you're an ass."

The door to the suite opens at that moment, and your blood runs cold. It's none other than your husband, Armitage Hux, and his pale face grows redder than his hair by the second. 

---

HUX

"Ren, stay away from my wife," Armitage grits out, but he isn't sure why that's the first thing he really wanted to say. He had initially wanted to walk in and ask how her day was, unlike last time, and listen despite the fact he was a very busy man. Maybe, he would suggest he would cook, and they could watch something on the projector, like the pre-rebellion era times two generations ago. 

But now, he's standing in the entrance to his rooms, and his wife has the murderous look upon her face like an angel of death, and Kylo Ren, of all people aboard the Finalizer, is before her. And if Armitage knows anything despite how to yell and boss people around, it's that Kylo Ren doesn't like being challenged by anything or anyone, especially princesses who are infuriated. 

"I'm barely your wife, you don't get to say that," she whispers, but to him, her voice is like a sword of ice, slashing at his soul.  

Kylo Ren strides toward him. "She is not a princess, _________ is a false idol, the firstborn of King Hyperion is nothing but a bastard. Like you, General." He spits out, rolling his shoulders as if testing his fury beneath his skin. "Supreme Leader Snoke must be informed at once that he has been tricked into a less than favourable girl and her tricky father."

Armitage cannot think; his thoughts are rushing too fast within his mind. But what he does know is that he cannot allow Kylo Ren to tell their mentor the news, and without another thought, grabs a hold of the man's arm. 

"Let go of me -," He growls.

Armitage's brow furrows, anger resonating from with him. "She is no less a human being for being of an alternate birth to those who intended it," he hisses, "________ is not a woman for you to hurt, like all the women before; she is my wife, and whether she wishes it or not, I will protect her from the likes of you, and all of your ill intent to sabotage the both of our careers, Kylo Ren. You may be his student, but I am his General, and I have more than enough power to cause your life aboard this ship a living hell, force sensitive or no." From the corner of his eyes, he sees his wife, her swaying form still, her eyes watching his every breath. Before he can stall any longer, he adds, "If I catch you in my rooms one more occasion, ruining our private lives, I can assure you that you will be more alike your grandfather by losing a limb for every second you stay here."

Kylo Ren leaves at once. 

"I'm sorry I have been a terrible -,"

He's interrupted by you, the voice he is still learning the sound of, the voice his heart flutters at like a little boy and his first love, the way like he knew every other person in the galaxy acted like when they were married to such a beauty. Arranged marriage was not a easy thing, and he knew that, Kriff, did he know that, but an arranged marriage, to the woman who stood before him, the beauty who had more power than anyone on board the ship simply by holding his heart - it made it all the more easier. 

"I was afraid you would hurt me like you have hurt all those innocent people in the galaxies," you whisper. "Kylo Ren came in, and assured me otherwise of that, and from that terrifying speech, I seem to understand now that you don't hate me." Your voice is but an echo, but if he could, he would catch it and hear the reverberations of it for all eternity. "My blood, or otherwise."

He shakes his head. "I can't say I like my job, _______. I can't say I like myself, for what I do, and I surely cannot say that I am a man who knows what it is like to feel...but for you, I will not hurt anyone, not harm a soul, not even you."

You nod. 

"Do you hate me, or do you fear I am the devil, _______?" He wonders.

You shake your head. "The latter, but if you can prove to me that you will not be the man who people cower from, at least to me...I can't promise it, but I will try to being to trust you." You vow. "At least I'm not married to Kylo Ren, or an old rich man who'd control my every thought." you chuckle, earning a small smile from Armitage. 

"We're just two people who have similar stories, and are placed together," Armitage's voice is small, as he closes the distance between the both of you. "I think we should adopt a cat, and I shall cook, and you can do whatever you please, and we can try and look each other in the eye." He proposes.

"A cat would be lovely," you nod, raising your head, your lips but inches away from his own. It would be the second kiss you share with him, the first when you had only known his name, and professional identity. But now, you reach up, and connect, eyes closed, melding into one. Not a breath is shared for minutes, until he releases you to take a breath. "But taking this into the bedroom would be lovelier."

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