Father And Daughter - Tumblr Posts - Page 2

HNAU character 3: Emily

Emily is Nicky and Camilla’s 11 year old daughter who is a huge daddy’s girl and is obsessed with finding out what their neighbor Theodore is hiding until she is caught trying to get into the basement through a window and is locked inside by him.

I like to think that Hiccup would be more of an affectionate father because he somewhat wished that Stoick was. Hence the birth of this sketch. I also love the more domestic side of Hiccup and Astrid, and can’t resist drawing cute family moments lol.

p.s.

Zephyr hates her father’s affection.

My dad loves screaming at me because of things that aren’t my fault </3

This was made by @poplyy_ on Twitter

And when I saw it I immediately thought of these two also my oc Mic is adopted by Optimus too. 😌😊

Yes

I like to see TFA Optimus as a father figure and nothing more sooo fluff headcanons for a fatherly TFA Optimus if that makes sense?

(Both of these were in the inbox so I’ll just combine these two)

When he finds out you view him as a father figure he’s a bit confused but also super honored.

He’s a little nervous at first because he’s never raised a sparkling/kid and he’ll try to read up on Earth parenting (even if you’re an adult).

He becomes pretty protective and will scold you in a very fatherly manner if you do something wrong/something that could hurts you.

Best hugs! If you tell him you need a hug because you’re feeling down prepare yourself for the warmest hug.

If you need a ride to school/work he’s happy to drop you off and pick you up and then listen to how your day went.

If people hit on you while he’s around be prepared for papa bear mode to kick in. He’ll pull them aside and ask what their intentions are and try to judge if they’ll treat you right.

If he finds out about dad jokes be prepared for him to make a couple of those occasionally.

Always gets you a gift for your birthday/Christmas (usually something you mentioned wanting/needing).

If you have a date with someone he’ll insist on meeting them to make sure they’re safe (he’s just worried his new kid might get hurt).

The first time you slip up and call him dad he’s confused and a little bit panicked but once he gets used to it he’ll just smile.

Will definitely help you with school/work projects as best as he can (if you’re both stumped he’ll take it to Ratchet).

Weak resistance to puppy dog eyes. You wanna keep an animal that followed you to the base and he says absolutely not? Puppy eyes and he’ll give in.

Will often praise you for the stuff you do and tell you he’s very proud of you.

If someone bullies you at school/work then he will confront them at their own home, they apologize the next day and don’t bully you anymore.

If you get a pic of you two made he’ll keep it in either his room or in his subspace.

PLEASE I LOVE THIS FATHER DAUGHTER MOMENT WITH MIC (my oc) AND OPTIMUS

To Be a Father

A/N: I am pleasantly surprised at how well this turned out, and I must say I believe it to be one of the best that I’ve written! Hopefully you’ll think the same, haha.

Happy Father’s Day to all you dads out there. You rock. <3

Title: To Be a Father

Summary: Optimus spends the day with you by the lake.

Words: 3048

It wasn’t often that Optimus Prime got a day off from his duties, but when he did, each time was more likely than not going to be spent with you. In previous years it had proved quite difficult to do so, as you had school to attend and lived with your family in an entirely different state, but as soon as you turned eighteen you took up an apprenticeship at NEST. Your brother, Sam, had also been offered one, but apparently he much preferred the quiet life as opposed to you, who took up the aspiration to somehow be involved in the military as soon as all things Cybertron came to Earth. Of course, Optimus adored the extra time he got to have with you, but he vaulted straight into what Will and Epps had dubbed his ‘Daddy Mode’ any time something even partially dangerous cropped up and completely refused when you asked to join him. You still shivered at how mad he’d been that one time when he’d discovered how you’d sneaked out of the Base to follow him and the other ‘Bots… granted, he’d only discovered you because a Decepticon had somehow managed to slice through your upper arm, and that was most likely the reason why he’d been so mad and refused even more from thereon after… but, still. You’d joined for the whole military experience, and that certainly wasn’t what you were receiving. 

It had come as somewhat of a shock at the beginning when Optimus began to act as though he were your father. After all, who could get used to seeing a robot look after a human as though she were his own? Nevertheless, that shock had subsided almost five years ago. Now, it would be a surprise if the alien Commander didn’t treat you as he did. Everyone had accepted it, and it was practically custom at the Base to expect nothing less than Optimus being the one they go to when something concerned you.

He was your guardian, no doubts about it, and neither of you would have it any different.

“I can’t throw this to you!”

Lake Chelan was beautiful on a summer’s day. The cool, blue-grey water glistened in the evening sun, dancing on the the small ripples of waves as they glossed over the surface. The trees surrounding it rustled in the warm breeze, leaves toppling off and floating down to the grassy ground where they lay surrounded by wild flowers and mounds of dew-dropped blades of emerald.

Both you and Optimus had first visited it when exploring the new Headquarter’s surroundings in Washington. Thankfully, it had been winter at the time, so the place had been empty enough that nobody noticed the thirty-two foot alien robot trekking through the trees with a human sitting on his right shoulder, and the two of you had been able to explore as thoroughly as possible. It must have been on the third trip to the lake that you’d stumbled - and quite literally at that. Optimus had tripped over a fallen log and barrelled straight through a rather large canopy of trees and bushes - across what you’d since dubbed your ‘secret hideaway’. It was a beautiful area of the lake which had seemed pretty undisturbed, housing all sorts of creatures that unfortunately ran as soon as Optimus came crashing through their home. It was overgrown, dotted with flowers which were all the colours of the rainbow, right next to the glittering lake, and it was utterly beautiful. Optimus had done his best to arrange all the trees and such back into the places they had previously been so that it would remain a secret to everybody but the both of you, and, so far, even after four or so years, neither of you had encountered anyone else in that part of the lake. 

Today was one of those rare days in which the Prime has been given a day off, along with many other men at NEST. It was what the humans called ‘Father’s Day’, and those who had children to return home to had been granted permission to do so. Optimus was no exception. He had bustled you into his truck and sped off towards Lake Chelan with absolutely no sign of hesitation, and the two of you had been there for six hours, now. The sun was beginning to set, casting a magnificent glow over the shining lake and painting a gorgeous canvas of reds and oranges and yellows in the clear sky. He doubted the both of you would get home at all tonight, if your complete lack of boredom had anything to say about it, but he couldn’t admit that he cared that much. He did not mind where he was, as long as he was with you, and you were happy. The moment he returned home, work and his duties would slap him right back in the face.

“Of course you can.”

“No, I can’t. This is Will’s ball, and I’m not gonna return it to him, completely squashed, with a crappy explanation like ‘I threw it to Optimus and he burst it’.” You gave the ‘Bot a look, hugging the blue blow-up ball to your chest, and Optimus chuckled. He was sat on the ground, one leg stretched out in front of him while the other was bent at the knee, and both arms braced on the grass behind him. He was the most relaxed he’d been in quite a while, and most stoic generals who marvelled at the Autobots every time they visited NEST would more than likely feel faint at one sight of the position the stern and battle-ready robot was currently in. 

He shook his head. “You over-estimate my strength,” he told you, and you scoffed.

“Nobody can over-estimate your strength.” You turned and threw the ball in the air. “We’ll have to find a bigger ball.”

“One that is not plastic.”

“And one that won’t burst at a slight touch of your finger.”

Optimus smiled. “We best get to searching once we return, then.”

You mirrored his smile, throwing the ball once again. A bird flew over you, followed by a couple of what you supposed to be its babies, and you couldn’t help but laugh as Optimus immediately moved his head, not fancying another case in which birds attempted to nest on him. Waking up with an itching feeling and reaching his hand up only to pull back in surprise when the ruffle of feathers and cacophony of chirping reached his audio receptors was not something he wanted to experience again. You had not stopped laughing for at least half an hour after while he sat, back resting against a tree, arms crossed over his chest and the most ill-tempered look on his face.

You threw the ball up once again and quickly clasped your hands together, bouncing it on your fists when gravity pulled it down. One of those hands immediately came up to clap over your mouth as the ball flew straight towards the Prime and hit him right in the optic. He made a shout of both surprise and discomfort, one of his flapping arms covering where it had hit. “Ow…”

“Optimus, I am soho sorry,” you apologised, though the giggles spilling from your mouth did not aid at all in moving that apology along the right path. “I didn’t- Ihihi didn’t mean to do thahat.” 

Optimus grumbled something in Cybertronian under his breath. “When do you ever…” he muttered.

You shrugged. “At least it wasn’t the birds.”

The ‘Bot narrowed his optics and immediately made to leap up after you, causing you to squeal, turn around and dive into the water. Optimus’s mood changed immediately and he frantically shook his head, leaning forward and making a grab for you, but you were already completely submerged. “Those are the only clothes we have with us, Y/N,” he lightly scolded as you reached the surface and gasped for air, hair plastered over your grinning face.

“I don’t care! The water’s warm!”

“That is what you said the last time before you proceeded to come down with the influenza.” He heaved a sigh and leaned back, seeing that there was nothing he could do now. If you suffered through another nasty sickness, then he couldn’t say he hadn’t tried to stop you. 

“I’m gonna swim to the other side,” you told him, and he rose an optic ridge.

“Are you, now?”

Biting your lip, you swam up to the edge of the lake and crossed your arms over on the grass, resting your chin on top of them. “Optimus,” you said, gaining a very sweet smile, “can I swim to the other side of the lake? Pretty please?”

The Prime smiled. “Yes, but be careful out there. If you drown, do not expect me to save you.” He winked, cobalt optics twinkling mischievously, and you laughed.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.” Before the Prime could question what exactly that meant, you were off. He shook his head fondly and gazed out across the lake, marvelling at the mountains in the distance as the slight wind breezed over him. His silent peace was swiftly interrupted, however, as he noticed an incoming call. Frowning, he accepted it quickly. “Optimus Prime,” he said as way of greeting, sitting up.

“Optimus, hi. It’s Ron. Ron Witwicky.” The ‘Bot visibly relaxed at that, having previously been worried that it may have been Ratchet or somebody back at Base, telling him he needed to return due to an emergency.

“Good evening, Mister Witwicky,” he said. “How may I help you?”

“Ah, I was just wondering if Y/N was anywhere nearby? I tried calling her mobile but she won’t answer.” Optimus glanced over at the backpack you’d thrown by a tree a little way off. No doubt your phone had been going off in there for a while, but when you were faced with nature - especially when you were with him - electronics no longer became a thing of existence to you.

“Yes, she is here, though…” He turned his head slightly, noticing how you were still splashing through the water. “I am afraid she is quite far out in the lake as of now.”

He heard Ron chuckle. “At Lake Chelan, are you?”

“We are, yes.” 

“Typical. Said she’d ring me this afternoon to wish me a Happy Father’s Day and it’s, what? Six pm, now?” He breathed a laugh, and Optimus could imagine him shaking his head fondly. “That girl, Optimus, I swear to God.”

The Prime smiled. “I apologise on her behalf, Mister Witwicky,” he said. “I shall remind her to call you once she gets back.”

“Yes, you do that, big guy. Tell her her dad’s been spending the day drinking beer and watching her mom’s channels on TV. Make her feel guilty.” 

Optimus threw back his head and laughed. “Oh, I will,” he said. “Where’s Sam?”

“With his girlfriend, I expect. He called in this morning, which was great, but it’s pretty tough not having a Father’s Day hug from my little girl for the first time ever.” Ron’s voice drifted off a little, and Optimus nodded to himself, completely understanding. You were, after all, his only daughter and youngest child. To have you living hours away from him must be extremely trying, for both you and your parents - and Sam, at that. Primus knew how difficult it was for him to cope when you had to leave to go back home and he knew that he would not see you for another few months. He could only imagine how your family felt.

“Of course,” he said understandingly, “though she will be visiting fairly soon, remember that. She misses you and her mother, also, as she does Sam. I am sorry it is proving hard for you.”

“Oh, don’t be sorry. She’s eighteen - I sometimes forget that’s how old she is - and she’s gotta go out and make her own way at some point, right? I’m damn happy she has you with her. If she didn’t… let me tell you, Optimus, both Judy and I would be worried sick. But the simple fact that you’re keeping an eye on her means the world to us.”

The Autobot smiled. “I assure you, Mister Witwicky, I am keeping both eyes on her. She is safe, and I’m sure it will give you great relief to know that she is very happy. She gets on tremendously well with the rest of the men, and, as you know, my ‘Bots are every bit as much her protectors as I am.”

“That means a lot, pal, thank you. It really does.”

“Hey, Optimus! There’re fish out here!” The Autobot glanced up as your voice echoed around the lake, and he smiled when he saw you out in the middle, treading water while you spun around, seemingly following the fish beneath you.

“See if you are quick enough to catch one for your dinner!” he called back, and if he was close enough he was positive he would have seen you roll your eyes. He heard chuckling on the other end of the line. “I assume you heard that?” he asked, and Ron’s laughter grew.

“I did, indeed. You wouldn’t think she was eighteen, would you?”

“No. She still has that flare of innocence and complete youthfulness that I remember seeing in her all those years ago.”

It was silent for a moment before the man spoke again. “We did good with her, didn’t we?” he said, and though Optimus sub-consciously frowned for a moment, wondering what he meant by ‘we’, he nodded.

“Yes,” he replied, “I believe we did.”

“You know, this is as much your Father’s Day as it is mine, Optimus.”

Ah. That must have been what he meant. Optics widening the smallest bit, he opened his mouth to speak before shutting it again and waiting a moment. “It… is?”

“Yeah, pal, of course. You’ve known her for as long as she can remember! You’re her guardian, her protector… she considers you her family. Hell, we all do. That kid wouldn’t be half the person she is today without your help, Optimus. You keep her out of trouble, both when she’s with you and when she’s here at home.” He paused for a second. “Do you remember that time she got so moody just because she missed you? She was fourteen, then.”

Optimus’s face softened as he immediately plunged back into some of the sweetest memories of his life. “I do,” he said. “Sam called me up and asked me to talk some sense into her, and I told her not to be upset on my account and to simply think about the fun we would have when she came to visit in the summer.”

“And she cheered right up,” Ron said, smile evident in his voice.

Optimus weakly shrugged. “Patience is not one of her strong suits.”

“Yeah, definitely not,” the man said with a laugh. “Look, what I’m trying to say here is… you are a father to her. Whether you like it or not, whether you meant for it to happen or not, you are, and you’re a pretty amazing one at that. I’m thankful for you, Optimus, really, I am. You’ve shone a light on our girl’s life that I would never have been able to put there alone. You devote a lot of your own life to her, even though you’re busy as hell, you reprimand her, praise her, look after her when she’s sick, teach her what’s right and wrong… sometimes I’m learning from you. You are what it means to be a father.”

Optimus was, quite honestly, a little lost for words. Of course, he had always seen himself as some sort of father-figure to you, but to hear your actual father say it himself meant more to him than he could ever have imagined. He’d always worried about it - about how much time he was spending with you compared to how much you were spending with Ron. Would he ever be jealous? Upset? Angry, even? That someone else had stepped into your life and was now sharing his role as father? He would never wish to take that away from either of you, but to completely give up this role would have been torture for him, so he hadn’t. And yet that thought had always been nagging in the back of his mind. Nevertheless, to hear that your father was, in fact, one hundred percent grateful and, in actuality, relieved for the support in raising you gave peace to his entire being.

A smile spread across his face, and he couldn’t help but sigh in what could only be relief. “I cannot explain in words what that means to me, Mister Witwicky. I hold what you have said very close to my spark, and I can only say that it is my absolute honour to be able to share this with you. I love helping in looking after your daughter, and I love her. More than I will ever be able to say. Thank you.”

“It’s nothing but my pleasure, Optimus, honestly. Who else can say they share fathering duties with an alien robot, huh?”

Optimus chuckled, turning his head to gaze out at the lake yet again and easily catching sight of you continuously diving under the water and resurfacing seconds later, apparently trying your luck at catching a fish. His smile widened. “Not many people, I would assume,” he said.

“She still swimming?”

“Yes, though I can call her back if you wish to speak with her now?”

“Oh, no, no. I want her to spend this day with at least one of her dads. I’ll call her later.”

The Prime nodded. “Alright. It was nice speaking with you.”

“And you. Happy Father’s Day, Optimus.”

Looking back across the lake once more, Optimus was surprised, to say the least, when he saw you splashing around in the water, a fish struggling in your hands. He rose an optic ridge, lost for words for a brief moment, before he blinked and shook his head, breathing a soft laugh.

Ah, the joys of fatherhood.

“Happy Father’s Day, Ron.”

Some Au of Good Dad Overhaul :0 from MONTHS ago

Please I'm cringing alot but ignore me please

ALSO the third one is very very inspired by @//meru90 on Twitter and tumblr

More sketches I just really like overhaul ^^'

Hi!!! Can you write something else for dad!Logan with Laura? Maybe something where they meet reader (maybe she works at the library, or she’s a school teacher, or even the waitress at a restaurant, or they run into her at the park) and Laura sees her dad with the woman and instantly KNOWS they click 💕

The Library Smile

Summary:Logan meets a kind librarian, and his daughter Laura quickly senses a connection, urging him to pursue it.

Logan and Laura step into the small, cozy library on a Sunday afternoon, the kind of place where time seems to slow down. Sunlight streams through the high windows, casting golden pools of light on the well-worn carpet. The air is thick with the comforting scent of old pages and coffee from a little café tucked in the back corner.

Logan rarely visits places like this—too quiet, too exposed, too many windows. But he promised Laura an afternoon of peace, and she had insisted on the library. He watches her dart toward the graphic novels, her eyes alight with excitement, and feels a twinge of pride. For someone so young, she’s seen too much, experienced too much—but here, in this sanctuary of stories, she can just be a kid.

As Logan trails after her, trying to stay out of people’s way, he catches sight of you. You’re standing on a small step stool, stretching up to reach a top shelf, a few books in your arms. Your face is bright with concentration, eyes narrowed slightly in focus, and there's a small, unguarded smile on your lips as if the world outside the library walls doesn’t exist.

He watches for a moment longer than he should, something inside him shifting. Your hair falls loose around your face, and when you finally manage to place the book in its rightful spot, you step back down, satisfied. You catch his gaze and offer a warm, friendly smile that makes Logan’s heart do something strange—a little flip he hasn’t felt in years. He nods back, caught off guard, and quickly looks away, but not before you see a hint of something softer in his eyes.

Laura, ever observant, sees it all. She’s young, but she knows her dad better than most. She’s seen his smiles before, but this one is different—it’s small, a little awkward, but real. She watches how he keeps glancing at you, like he’s curious, like he doesn’t quite know what to do with himself in this quiet place.

She tugs at Logan’s sleeve, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Dad,” she whispers, eyes gleaming with mischief, “why don’t you go talk to her?”

Logan frowns, a bit thrown by her directness. “What are you talkin’ about, kid?” he grumbles, though there’s no bite in his words.

“She’s nice,” Laura insists, shrugging as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “And you’re smiling. You don’t smile like that for just anyone.”

Logan looks back at you, a bit embarrassed, but there’s no denying the pull he feels. “Yeah, maybe,” he mutters, trying to play it cool, but Laura sees right through him.

“C’mon,” she urges, nudging him again. “Just ask her something. You always say to be brave, right?”

Logan chuckles softly, realizing he’s been cornered by his own advice. “Alright, kid, alright,” he concedes, ruffling her hair. “But if this goes south, it’s on you.”

Laura just grins, watching him take a deep breath like he’s about to face down a dozen Sentinels, not just talk to a woman in a library. He approaches you, clearing his throat, his hands shoved deep in his jacket pockets.

“Hey,” he says, and his voice comes out a bit rougher than he intended. “Uh, my kid and I… we’re lookin’ for some books. For her, mostly.” He stumbles over his words, not quite sure where to start. “Maybe you could help us find something… good?”

You look up from your stack of books, your smile brightening when you see him standing there, trying hard not to look as awkward as he feels. “Of course! I’d be happy to help,” you reply warmly. “What does she like to read?”

Logan hesitates, scratching the back of his neck, suddenly aware of how little he knows about the details of books. “Uh, she’s into graphic novels,” he says. “And, y’know… adventure stuff. Stuff with a lot of heart.”

You nod, your smile never wavering. “I think I have just the thing.” You lead him to a different section, glancing over your shoulder to see if he’s following. He is, eyes focused on you in a way that makes your cheeks warm.

Laura watches this from behind a nearby bookshelf, trying to look busy flipping through her comics but grinning ear to ear. She notices the way Logan’s stance softens, how his shoulders lose a bit of their usual tension, and how he’s leaning in just slightly, listening to every word you say.

As you hand Logan a book, your fingers brush for just a second. It’s nothing, a small accidental touch, but to him, it feels like a spark. He clears his throat again, this time softer, almost shy. “Thanks,” he says, holding the book, but his eyes are still on you.

“No problem,” you reply, noticing the way he looks at you, as if he’s trying to memorize your face. “It’s nice… seeing a dad and daughter spending time like this.”

Logan’s face softens even more, and there’s a look of vulnerability there, something rare, something you don’t often see in a man like him. “Yeah,” he murmurs, his voice lower, more sincere. “She means the world to me.”

You nod, touched by the honesty in his words. “I can see that,” you say gently. “You’re doing a great job.”

For a moment, there’s a comfortable silence, a quiet understanding that seems to settle between you. Logan feels like he could stay in this moment just a little longer, basking in the warmth of your smile, the softness of your voice.

Laura can’t help but feel a sense of triumph. She doesn’t know exactly what’s happening, but she knows it’s good—better than good. Her dad deserves this, deserves someone who can make him feel human, make him smile.

Logan finally steps back, holding the book you’ve given him like it’s something precious. “Thanks again,” he says, his voice softer, more genuine than before. “Maybe… maybe we’ll see you around?”

You smile, and there’s a hint of something hopeful in your eyes. “I’d like that,” you reply.

As Logan walks back to Laura, she beams up at him. “So?” she asks, trying to sound casual, but failing.

Logan shakes his head, a small smile still on his lips. “So… maybe you were right, kid,” he admits, ruffling her hair. “Maybe.”

Laura grins, feeling like she just won the lottery. “Told you,” she says, satisfied.

And as they leave the library, Logan glances back over his shoulder, one last time, catching your eye again. There’s a small wave, a shared smile, and something new blooming between you—something fragile, but undeniably real.

And for the first time in a long time, Logan feels like maybe, just maybe, there’s room for a little more light in his life.

Request are WIDE OPEN! Feel free to ask for Almost anything!

“Instant Connection”

Summary: Logan and Laura visit a library where Laura instantly senses a connection between her dad and the friendly librarian, knowing they’re meant to click.

(Technically, this is a part two to the library smile)

Logan had promised Laura he’d take her to the library after their latest mission—nothing too intense, just a simple in-and-out that somehow ended up with Logan covered in mud and Laura sporting a new tear in her jacket. A quiet trip to the library felt like a fair trade.

As they stepped inside, Logan immediately noticed the cozy warmth of the place. The scent of old books and fresh coffee hung in the air. He felt out of place, with his rugged appearance contrasting against the library’s calm ambiance. Laura, however, darted off with purpose toward the children’s section, her favorite place to be on these trips.

Logan wandered through the aisles, trying to keep an eye on Laura while scanning for anything that might catch his interest. That’s when he saw you. You were behind the front desk, your head buried in a book, your fingers gently flipping the pages. You looked up briefly, catching his gaze. Logan quickly looked away, feeling a little embarrassed, but he couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Laura, who had been observing her dad from behind a bookshelf, noticed the way Logan kept glancing in your direction. A knowing grin spread across her face. She had never seen Logan this… distracted. Curious, she approached you, tugging at your sleeve gently.

“Excuse me, miss,” Laura asked, her voice sweet and innocent. “Do you have any books on, um… special families?”

You smiled warmly at her, nodding. “Sure thing, sweetheart. Follow me, and I’ll show you where they are.” As you led Laura to a nearby section, she asked, “Do you like working here?”

You chuckled softly, “I do. I get to meet a lot of interesting people. And I get to help people find stories they love.”

Laura’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she asked, “Like my dad?”

You glanced over at Logan, who was now pretending to be interested in a random shelf of books. “Is that your dad?” you asked, your eyes lingering on him a bit longer this time.

“Yep!” Laura replied proudly. “He’s a little rough around the edges, but he’s a good guy. Likes reading… sometimes.” She shot a grin back at Logan, who was watching with a puzzled expression. “Maybe you could help him find a good book. Something to help him relax?”

You laughed softly. “I’d be happy to try.”

Logan, sensing he was being talked about, slowly approached, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Sorry if she’s bothering you,” he mumbled.

“Oh, no bother at all,” you replied, your smile wide and inviting. “She’s quite the charming little helper. She thinks you might need a good book recommendation.”

Logan raised an eyebrow at Laura, who just gave him a cheeky grin. “Yeah, well, she might be right about that.”

You chuckled again and handed him a book. “Maybe start with this one. It’s got a bit of everything—adventure, a little romance, and some good old-fashioned heroics.”

Logan took the book from you, feeling the warmth of your hand linger on the cover. “Thanks… I’ll give it a shot.”

Laura, standing between you both, looked back and forth, her grin growing wider by the second. She nudged Logan’s leg with her foot, whispering loudly, “Told you she’s nice, Dad.”

Logan’s cheeks flushed ever so slightly. “Yeah, kid, you’re right… She is.”

And in that moment, Laura knew. She saw the way Logan’s usually guarded expression softened when he looked at you, and how your smile seemed to brighten just a little more when you spoke to him. She didn’t need any more proof. She knew her dad had just met someone special.

Requests are Wide open😗

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌-𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐃

— a vulnerable moment between Klaus Mikaelson and his somewhat mortal daughter, Deena Salée. The two have been struggling with their relationship since coming into his life, that it’s time to sit down and communicate to understand each other best even if it’s not something Klaus is used to.… (there’s more to this scene) link below

Book one of Warm-Blooded

(season 2 of the originals)

Chapter 15 | The Original Tribrid

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌-𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐃

— Kol Mikaelson will seize any opportunity to tease his big brother, Klaus Mikaelson, especially when it involves his somewhat mortal niece (Klaus’s daughter)…link below

Warm-Blooded Link

Chapter 20 | A King Does Not Run, He Disappears (1st pic, book two of Warm-Blooded, season 3 of the Originals)

Chapter 3 | Your Sword And Shield (2nd pic, book three of Warm-Blooded, season 5 of the Originals)

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌-𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐃

𝐔𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄

Book Three of Warm-Blooded :

(Season 5 of the originals)

Chapter 7 | A Piece Of Me To Carry

~ 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘰 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 ~

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐦-𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐝

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

word count: 4.5k~

warnings: strong language, eventual violence, classic Niklaus resorting to violence and drinking away his problems

a/n: this is the 3rd chapter of my au longfic based off the The Originals (what if the child was a teenager/YA throughout the show duration and not at season 5?). This chapter features Klaus’s pov, an insider to his struggles accepting his role as a father. Rebekah and Elijah makes their return. Davina as well. If there’s a warning I skipped let me know.

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𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗧𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲 | 𝗡𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲’𝘀 𝗟𝗼𝗼𝗽𝗵𝗼𝗹𝗲

       𝐊𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐒 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐄𝐓 𝐀𝐒 𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃. From her thick curly roots, to the smeared blood currently being wiped clean from her delicate features, to the soft beatings of her heart indicating she was calmly resting. In his hand, he held an old photo of him sitting next to Vanessa. Who was clearly the girl's mother given the identical features they shared, alongside a letter explaining the situation of his existence with clear instructions to NOT come to New Orleans.

        Yet the girl—Deena, as stated in the letter—came anyway. Hard-headed.

        Klaus remembered Vanessa almost as if it was yesterday. He met the young aspiring witch at a local art exhibit held in The French Quarter where she first struck his interest, besides being the only who wore silly socks with a tight-fitting dress. She was not only well-spoken in art, but she had a way with words in which Klaus wouldn't notice the smile he wore until she told him, and she was her own person with a peculiar taste in fashion. And he liked it. In fact, he loved it. They hit it off quickly and spent every chance they had with each other, until one day she disappeared without a word. Klaus assumed it was because of him and didn't blame her since she was too good for his world and she deserved more than what he could provide for her.

        "Impossible," Were the first words Klaus said. He tossed the photo to the floor and faced his back to Deena to slip her from his memory, to Elijah who spoke not one word until Klaus spoke first.

        Elijah picked the photo from the floor and placed it on the table beside the written letter before Klaus seized a chance to rip it. "Whether it's true or not, the child needed our help and we gave that to her. Nik—"

       "You expect me to believe this child is mine from a silly photo with a woman I dallied with years ago and some loveless letter of lies?" Growled Klaus. His mouth suddenly felt dry and though he did his best to put up a front, the fear in his eyes was evident and by the end of his words, panic had entered. "I am a vampire. I cannot procreate!"

        Rebekah rinsed the cloth of blood in the warm water of dark red ready to be refilled and continued to clean the child's face and arms the best she could. The scent of her blood was alluring, preying them to feed into their cravings with just a taste, a single drop of her blood until there was no restraint to stop. But they have lived long enough to control their thirst, and the blood lust wasn't as appealing when the victim's a child and presumed to be a Mikaelson.

        "Magic made you a vampire as us all, Nik." Rebekah pointed out. "But you were born a werewolf; it courses in your blood given by your father, so it is possible. Ludicrous but possible. And we can confirm it with your blood and hers. And a witch."

        That shut Klaus up.

        "The child has already been through enough, and we can't be sure of which witch we can trust until we figure out the origin of this madness. Let's not bother her anymore and hope she wakes soon." As Elijah spoke, he watched Deena intensively under his black lashes and compared her physical similarities to his little brother. Her lips. Her ears. Even her nose with a slight readjustment, accurately portrayed Klaus but there was no way to be sure without that spell Rebekah mentioned.

        Rebekah rolled her eyes. "She will be fine. With my blood in her system, she's healing a lot faster than before. And I know a witch we can use; she was just here not too long ago banging on our doors to hear her out. And by the looks of it, she cares enough to do anything for her," Rinsing the last of Deena's blood into the bowl, Rebekah placed the rag on the dresser and carried the bowl into her arms to be refilled. She caught sight of Klaus's quietness, his eyes never leaving the child and added, "And if we hold this off any longer, we might as well shave our heads bald and pay ourselves a visit to the loony bin, and I don't rock a bald look. I would rather stab myself with the white oak before I plug in a bloody razor."

        Rebekah left for the bathroom.

        They knew exactly who Rebekah spoke of—Davina Claire, the teenage witch who wanted but nothing to do with the Mikaelsons. More specifically Klaus. After Elijah thought about the decision, he began to view Rebekah's point and agreed. However, the decision wasn't up to him.

         Klaus could feel his brother's heated stare as he looked to him for answers he didn't have nor wished to answer. He stood quietly acquainted with fear more than anyone has witnessed since Mikael's invasion back in 1919. He does want the answer, but he's too prideful to ask for help and he was too afraid of the outcome.

        Elijah then understood he would have to make the decision for them both and found Rebekah's gaze as she exited the bathroom with a clean bowl of warm water. "Let's do the spell."

━━━━━━ ━━━━━━

        𝐃𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐀 𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐒. Her eyes never left Klaus as she made her way down the hallway and into the spacious room, waiting for a reason to use her magic against him, until she found Deena lying unconscious on the freshly made bed in the room she had once lived in back when Marcel was around and things were a bit hectic because of her. Or at least similar. She rushed to Deena's side with a gasp.

        "She will be alright," Elijah answered her panicked thoughts as she pulled back at the blood staining her hands when she reached out for her. She sent him a soft glare and carefully took Deena's hand into hers. "Will you be able to perform the spell?"

        Klaus, remain quiet. The quietest he's ever been.

        Davina noticed her friend appeared a lot brighter in her complexion despite her blood-stained clothes. Even noticing her cuts vividly healing before her eyes which meant she was given vampire blood, and she felt guilty. Like it was her fault for not protecting her or keeping her away from Klaus as she intended to do. And by keeping the supernatural world a secret to protect her, she felt she had done more harm than good.

        "I can try but since her blood is tainted, I'll have to—"

        "The blood on her clothes is pure. Can you use that instead?" Asked Rebekah.

        Davina narrowed her gaze from Deena's stained clothes. It was easy magic she's done before and responded, "I'm only doing this for Deena and no one else, so don't call me here again. I don't wanna be mixed up in your family drama." Her gaze found Deena's. "And she shouldn't have to either."

        "You have my word," Elijah promised.

        If Klaus was in his right mind, he would've had something to say about this but for the first time in a while, he had no energy to feed into petty drama.

        Because Davina knew she could trust Elijah out of all the original siblings, she began the spell. She emptied the bowl of marbles she found on the dresser and began to remove Deena's blood into the bowl leaving her shirt spotless as if it had been recently washed. She then faced Klaus. "I need your blood." She demanded.

        One by one, they looked to Klaus who was currently in his own world. He didn't hear Davina but he soon felt their stares and allowed Elijah's voice to be heard as he called his name softly. Of course, he was worried for his brother. He's never failed to hide his worrisome in times like this. Klaus followed his gesture towards Davina waiting for something he had. What was it she asked for? My blood? Without wasting another second, he bit into his wrist and held it over the bowl as his blood began to mix in with Deena's. He pulled back his arm as he began to heal and waited in the far corner.

        Rebekah practically hovered over Davina as she continued on with the spell and Elijah stood in the center of everyone, his eyes never leaving Klaus. About five minutes later, Davina stood from her seat indicating she was finished with the spell.

        Rebekah peeled herself from the wall. "Well, is it true? Has my brother officially knocked some poor woman up against her will?"

        Klaus saw the way Davina looked at Deena, the look was enough to give him the answers they longed for, but he needed to hear it from her lips. He was desperate as they all were for the answer. She sighed finally meeting Klaus's anxious gaze. "She's a hundred percent Klaus's child." Davina announced.

        Klaus was shocked into silence.

        Not one word has been spoken as they struggled to process nature's loophole. A child, a true Mikaelson, here in flesh by the blood and DNA of Klaus, the Original Hybrid unable to create any lifeform of the living. It was difficult to create a logical answer in their heads how any of this was possible. Klaus has slept with countless women throughout the centuries, so why is it now that it's possible for his seed to create a mortal being? What made Vanessa so special out of all?

        Rebekah felt bitterness towards the situation. Though she was happy her brother has a child he could watch grow old and she has become an aunty, she knew that kind of possibility wasn't possible for her. And she desired what Klaus had—a family. From her own DNA, conceived naturally from her body, children of her own. But she was a vampire. Unlike Klaus, she could not procreate. There was no loophole for her.

        However, Elijah failed to hide his glee. After years of cleaning up after his brother's retaliation, years of watching his demons mold his anger to fear that has built a wall between his misery and his own happiness; wanting nothing but the best for him and for him to let go of his grudges against the world and start letting people in, he believed this could be a chance for Klaus to start over fresh. For not only Klaus, but for himself and for Rebekah. Maybe with the child's presence, could diminish their negative ways and bring back empathy. Something they haven't felt in a while.

        Klaus shuffled into the desk behind him, his tear-filled eyes never left the unconscious girl. He didn't look at her with hate or displeasure; it was a softer look that couldn't be explained in words. There was too much roaming around in his head and in his heart and in his actions, it was too much for him to process.

        Davina suddenly lifted the blood-filled bowl from off the bed and placed it on the smaller dresser near the bed in case Deena moved in her slumber. She clapped her hands together, gathering their destruct attention. The awkward silence was too much for her to stand in. "If that's all, I'm leaving." She sent Deena an apologetic stare before she was already out the door.

        In a flash, Davina's backside was pressed against the opened door with a hard thud. Klaus held her by the neck, seizing to scare her by his threatening presence. "What kind of trick are you playing, Davina? Do you think I can be easily fooled? Do you not fear your worthless life?" He tightened his hand as she fought out his hold. She even sank her fingers between so that she could breathe.

       "I did the spell like you asked!" Davina cried out.

        Elijah sped towards the abrupt commotion while Rebekah took a hesitant step forward, in an attempt to pull Klaus from off Davina before he did anything he'd regret, but his grip loosened from her neck as an enormous amount of pain surged his brain. He fell to his knees while gripping his head like a maniac. His groans of pain and her lifted hand allowed them to put together the pieces.

        Davina stumbled back as she caught her breath, rubbing her now red neck, eyes frantic on the other siblings in case they were going to try her. They held their ground. "Look, Deena's my friend. And as much as I wish I had sabotaged the spell and made your lives miserable, it wouldn't be fair to her and I wouldn't be able to live with the guilt. She is your daughter whether you like it or not. And if you don't believe me, fine! Find another witch who's willing to do the spell. Not that you have many to call. I'm outta here."

        The pain stopped as soon as Davina left the room. Klaus fell to the floor relieved of his torment. He will have his chance to murder that witch with his own bare hands someday. For now, he was focused on regaining his consciousness.

         Elijah was already at his side to help him up. "Niklaus—"

        "I don't need your help!" He pushed away his brother's helping hand and stood on his own. Everyone stood in silence. Klaus took one last look at Deena and fled the room within seconds.

        Elijah sighed.

        "How is this possible, Elijah?" Rebekah asked, staring at the child trying to find the similarities. There were a few, the same Elijah pointed out earlier, but it was hard to believe the child was real. "Despite him being a hybrid...is—is this natural? Is she truly his offspring? And If so, can he produce more?"

        "This is all new to me as it is for you, but spells cannot lie. And I trust Davina. She is a hundred percent Klaus's offspring. Now for the lather, I will have to look into that."

        She stopped at his side. "But—"

        "I said I will look into it," Rebekah recognized that tone and held off from asking any more questions that couldn't be easily answered. "Why don't you find the child something she can wear when she awakens? I will go find our brother and talk some sense into him."

        Without a word, Rebekah sped over to where Deena's luggage sat to look for come clean clothes.

        "And Rebekah?"

        She glanced up with a hum.

        He motioned his finger around the room. "Make sure the house is empty before she awakens. We don't need an incident to occur or a hungry vampire's blood on our hands."

        She rolled her eyes. "I'm always stuck with babysitting when I can do more than that," She whined. "The child I can do, but a house of pre-war vampires? They are already a pain in the ass."

        "Just get it done."

        She rolled her eyes and continued to search through Deena's clothes.

━━━━━━ ━━━━━━

       𝐊𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐒 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍’𝐓 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐋 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 entering the bar he sat at to drain his sorrows in. It was only a matter of time before Elijah tracked him down. He never ventured out of his usual locations and his secretive spots were a work in process. Bringing up his empire took up the majority of his time having to fight through an army of vampires loyal to his dear Marcel. Of course, he couldn't bring himself to kill the boy he raised to make an example out of him, so he let him flee.

        But none of that seemed to matter now that he found out he's a father.

        Father.

        A strange title he couldn't force himself to withhold. And instead of believing his forced reality, he decided to drink forth to a past he lived before the child was a thing. His glorious days he might call it.

        "You learn of the existence of your child and yet you sit here to drink it away?" Elijah swiftly made his way toward Klaus.

        Klaus placed down his 5th empty glass of whiskey and released a stressful sigh upon Elijah's disturbing question. "I do not wish to hear your nagging, brother unless you have come to join me?" With his head dangled over the glass-stained counters, he signal the waiter to pour him another glass.

        Elijah then unbuttoned his jacket and ordered the waiter to serve him another round of whiskey as he took his seat next to him. They sat in silence. But knowing Elijah, he couldn't hold off the conversation any longer.

        "What are you thinking, Niklaus?"

        "I think of nothing. But I do think I need a stronger drink, don't you agree?" Klaus was clearly bothered by the question and ordered stronger liquor he could drown in, which meant there was something on his mind. Elijah knew what it was, but understood his tough-hearted brother needed a little push.

        "Your expression tells me otherwise." He thanked the waiter who placed down his drink, and took a small sip before he continued. "Are you afraid you will become a bad father?"

        "And so she has gotten to you with her puny lies? Oh, the Noble Elijah." Klaus mocked his title with a scoff. "The Elijah I knew would not be easily swayed by an amenable spell performed by the very witch who has tried to kill me more than twice and more to come in the future. A spell so that she can forge a weakness to catch me off guard when I have no weaknesses to be used!"

        "And the brother I know would never be troubled with such matter if you truly believe her spell was purged." Klaus's heart thudded faster than its usual speedy pace, which Elijah heard or else he wouldn't have continued his boring speech. "No matter how you feel or what Davina's true intentions are, I do trust her and I trust she would not lie about something as great as this. Think about it, Niklaus, the girl's mother disappeared without a trace and when you asked of her to be located, the witch could not find her on any map which meant she was either cloaked or dead. A cloaking spell is only used when you want to hide from someone or you have something to hide."

        "Yes, thank you, Elijah, for explaining to me the usage of a cloaking spell. Care to explain how to have a quiet drink without your brother pestering him with bogus ideas next?"

        Elijah sighed. "I wish you would not joke for once."

        Elijah wasn't phased when Klaus slammed his glass against the counter and faced his brother with an irritated look on his face. "Well, how else should I process this kind of information, brother? Shall we light a candle in a dark room, stare each other in the eyes, drink from goats' blood, then share our darkest fears and insecurities with one another?" He offered, humor on his tongue.

        Elijah wore no smile on his face at his brother's silly offer. "I wish you would be honest with me for once and not hold up such a wall as if I am here to shame you of the very thing I want you to have—a family."

        He faced the counter with the glass already at his lips. It was beginning to taste like water. "I already have a family." He boasted.

        "And now you have a daughter, who is family."

        The glass pressed heavily on his bottom lip when he suddenly froze. His eyes grew big hearing the D-word and family placed into the same sentence, no longer able to hold up his glass or Elijah would see his hand was shaking. Turning his head to control himself or Elijah would catch the glossy glint filling his vision. Forcing his heartbeat to slow or Elijah would detect his anxiety. A new weakness. One he kept struggling to deny.

        Elijah made a good point about Vanessa because anyone who knew her knew she would never run from anything not even Klaus himself, but of course because of his nature, the thought never crossed his mind. He only assumed it was because of him, not the result of an action they both consented to.

        Klaus could still feel his brother's stare. He knew that if he didn't say something now—the absolute truth behind the wall he kept gluing up—Elijah would get it out of him one way or another. And frankly, he just needed an ear to hear him out. And since Cami was not in viewpoint, he had no choice but to open up to his brother.

        "Fine, you win. You want to know how I feel about becoming a father? I am petrified."

       He finally faced Elijah who had been waiting all day for this exact moment to unfold, only to feel guilty for pressing the matter. But it was what he wanted, and Klaus would give him just that.

        "Given the lack of fatherliness I received, I don't believe the subject is far-fetched. I mean, the girl is practically a young adult, what do I have in common with her? I have lived a self-ruled life of volition and a deep crave for violence as I rain hell upon my enemies, to suddenly become a father of a teenager in less than an hour?" He scoffed. His eyes suddenly black with anger while gulping down his drink in one sip and slammed the glass (almost breaking it) against the counter which caught a little attention. "Her mother knew of this knowledge yet she decided to keep it from me. Just wait until I track her down, she will never hear the last of me."

        Elijah was finally able to understand a piece of Klaus's mind. There is potential and he was already showing it despite his crave for harming the child's mother. "You have missed her childhood; her first word, her first steps, her early years of growth and you feel guilty for that. But now you have a chance to miss no more of her development. This can be a new beginning for us all, for you, Niklaus. Maybe this isn't a bad thing."

        "What if..." He swallowed hard. "What if I'm not ready? What if I'm not...good at this? Good enough? I have no experience of this sort and I don't always have the best interest of whomever I come across."

        Elijah is taken back at his vulnerability and placed his hand on his shoulder as a form of comfort. "No one is ever ready for fatherhood, it just happens. But you are not alone in this, you have me and Rebekah at your side. Together we shall find a way. Always and forever." He smiled warmly.

         For a moment, both brothers shared the weight of Klaus's fears. Hope sparked in his eyes and with comfort he knew his brother would always be at his side no matter the gravity of the situation and it made him feel a little less lonely. Almost happy even, until he remembered Zoeè and the silly prophecy she spoke of conjured out of ignorance, and the witches who seek to fulfill it by sacrificing Deena.

        He stood to his feet with a mission written on his face. "Enough milking my sorrows, brother, I have Camille for that. Because we," While placing down his bill, "have a long list of witches to kill."

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔

𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆

If you like what you read and wish to read more of this fic, you can read HERE

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐦-𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐝

𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

word count: 4.7k~

warnings: strong language, a stalking presence, mentions of suicide, shitty French translations

a/n: this is the 4th chapter of my au longfic based off the The Originals (what if the child was a teenager/YA throughout the show duration and not at season 5?). I know the lore around vampires; Rebekah and Elijah are just being weird, already full. And just weird. This chapter has slight omniscient pov. If there’s a warning I skipped let me know.

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𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗙𝗼𝘂𝗿 | 𝗛𝘂𝗺𝗮𝗻

        𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀 𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐇 𝐀𝐈𝐑 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄, Deena woke up with a gasp almost as if she was drowning. She immediately sat up on guard as she remembered last night's situation. However, she wasn't in a graveyard, she was in bed, in someone else's room. And it wasn't night. The morning sun blinded her and blocking out the light didn't help either.

        At her feet, a pair of folded clothes lie. It came from out her suitcase—a pair of blue mom jeans with a short-sleeved basic shirt and a yellow smiley face in the center. This house, this room, must belong to the people who saved her that night. Or was it last night?

        It's unsure how long she's been unconscious.

        Maybe Davina ended up finding her afterall and brought her home? Which meant another long day finding Klaus all over again.

        She sighed as she got out of bed, cocking her head at how easily she stood without any aches or pain done to her body, which made no sense. She almost died. That pain...that feeling of extortion never left her memory. It was nothing she has ever felt in her entire life, something she never wants to feel again. And Deena wasn't dumb, whatever happened that night should've had a bigger impact to her body. So why did she feel completely fine?

        She decided to think about it later as a foul stench came under her arms. I've definitely been out for some days. She grabbed the clothes and took a nice long, warm shower in the spacious bathroom connected to the room. After getting dressed and pushing back her thick hair with a black cloth material headband, she was left with only one door yet to explore—the door which led to whomever house this was.

        There was no sign of life as she followed down the thick gray hallways decorated with a minimalistic taste. Her hand brushed against the rails peering out toward the open courtyard. Also empty. Deena even noticed a faded red color beneath her feet, a broken window a few doors down, and a door with its handle broken off. The place appeared somewhat rundown but it had a nice homey touch to the area. It was pretty huge so it had to be expensive.

        But where the hell are the people?

        She has passed by a few rooms, yet there was no sign of life, or the people who saved her that night. Not even Davina showing out from somewhere to greet her. It was so quiet she could hear her own breathing.

        Making her way down the old stairs toward the open courtyard, Deena couldn't help but feel like there was someone behind her. Someone so close she could feel their warm breath against her neck, but when she spun to confirm her suspicion while rubbing her neck red, there was no one there. However, for a moment, she could've sworn a shadow was standing at the top of the stairs.

         "Hello?" Deena decided to finally speak. She touched her throat slightly, remembering the thick feeling of blood clogged in her lungs. "Is there anyone here? N'importe qui (anyone)?"

        The strange tingly feeling of someone's presence returned. She ignored it.

        Deena found herself in a huge kitchen. It was the biggest kitchen her eyes had ever laid upon. If her mom was here, she'd love this kitchen and be in it all day. Herself too. It was spotless and brand new, almost as if it's never been touched. Odd how the house appeared as though it went through hell but the kitchen remains untouched.

        A gust of wind blew against her backside as Deena furthered into the kitchen.

        She was about to reach for the fridge handle in hopes there was something to eat, until a deep voice rumbled her organs. "I would not open that fridge if I were you. It's a bit of a mess and not prepared for your arrival."

        Deena spun around with a gasp, slamming her body against the cool fridge. She's faced with a tall, brown-headed man dressed in a sharp freshly-steamed black suit. She eyed the kitchen for a weapon to defend herself from the mysterious man with a familiar tone of voice.

        Recognizing her fear, he took a respectable step back to allow Deena her space. "My apologies, I tend to be silent on my feet." He explained. She only stared. "Where are my manners, my name is Elijah Mikaelson—" Deena's head perked at his surname. Mikaelson? "—Niklaus's elder brother, your...uncle I suppose is the proper word." Elijah noticeably cringed at the word 'Uncle'. Just as Klaus, it tasted foreign on his tongue.

        It took Deena a moment to connect Niklaus to Klaus Mikaelson, her father. So this wasn't Davina's place afterall. "He's alive?" She lets down her guard with a question that's been on her mind.

        Elijah sized the child for unhealed injuries. "Very much so. He is a tough man to kill." Of course, she'd be perfectly fine with Rebekah's blood in her system, but he was worried for her mentally. No child should ever have to go through a tragic experience even by the hands of witches and their long history of child sacrifices. "How do you feel? You weren't in the best shape when we found you."

        "I feel..." There were many things Deena currently felt; confused, energetic, powerful, relieved to be alive and to have found her father though she's yet to meet him, a lot better than when she arrived, and... "Hungry. Very hungry."

        "Yes," He searched around the kitchen for food that wasn't there. "Hunger. We should get you something to eat and I will make that happen. Come with me."

        Deena followed behind Elijah. "How long have I been out?"

        "About two days or so."

        Deena stopped in her trail.

        Elijah also heard when her footsteps haltered. When he faced her, he noticed a distant look in her brown eyes. "There seems to be something on your mind? What is bothering you?"

        Deena shook her head. "It's nothing. I shouldn't bother you w—"

        "I don't mind the bother. In fact, I would be more than eager to know whatever is on your mind at all times if you, of course, permit me to know."

        Her lips parted as she took a step back, not expecting his response. His attention. His care for her well-being and a will to listen to her and whatever was said out her mouth. She hasn't felt this way since her mother passed away and liked it. A lot. It was what she wanted, for someone to care about her again. She could only wonder what her father was going to be like when they met.

        "I-I don't," Deena shrugged, stumbling over her words to make sense of everything. "I don't understand what happened when I woke up in that graveyard. That woman seemed to know me but I don't know her—I don't know anyone here! She told me I could help her coven, that I was upsetting the balance of magic...and threw a girl I met against the wall like a wizard. And caused so much pain to my body without touching me. I don't...how? How's that possible?"

        Elijah took note of Deena's confusion. He was as well confused himself given her mother and her long history of heroic acts. "Your mother never told you..." He trailed off to leave the answer up for his niece to fill in and make sense of.

        Deena blinked. "Told me what?"

        Elijah fell to silence with a soft hum.

        Wishing to press the matter no more and lead the child to a source of human food, his ears perked at footsteps heading in their direction. He took a cautious step in front of Deena in a protective manner until the footsteps came with a face entering the kitchen. Elijah then backed down.

        A white woman with long, flowy blond hair dressed in a leather jacket with a light pair of jeans (in this heat) entered the kitchen they were just about to exit. She noticed Deena on her way in and rose her threaded brows in surprise almost as if she'd seen a ghost. "Well, look who is alive. Of course, you would be, you're a Mikaelson; we always survive whatever hell is thrown our way." She paused, thinking. "Well...not all, but most find a way."

        Deena looked to Elijah for confirmation. "This is R—"

        She stiffened as the woman went in for a hug. She failed to warn Deena of this action and looked to Elijah for help who simply allowed it to happen. "Wow. You smell good," She inhaled deeply. To the vampires, to Elijah more specifically, the saying could've meant anything and he was going to stop his sister from whatever impulse until Rebekah sensed him. "Relax, Elijah, it's a compliment. You know I would never harm a child nevertheless my niece."

        "Sorry...who are you?"

        "Rebekah Mikaelson, but you may call me Aunt Bekah. I quite like it; It has a nice ring to it. Aunt Bekah." She repeated to see how it sounded off her lips again.

        Another Mikaelson whom Davina mentioned. His sister. Unsure of their ages, they both appeared quite young. Rebekah near her age or older and Elijah in his mid 20's. She wasn't sure where her father fits in yet but given the picture he took with her mother, he should be in his late 30's or early 40s possibly. Davina also mentioned they were troubling and terrorizing the city, but they didn't seem all that scary to her. She admits, there was something definitely off about them but not entirely questionable.

        "I'm Deena Salée...which you know already." She laughed nervously, overwhelmed by meeting her family. It used to be only her and her mom, but now she has an uncle, an aunt, and even a father...wherever he might be.

        Elijah smiled. "Salée it's a French surname and judging by the accent, you are?"

        She nodded proudly. "Oui,"

        "Mon frère a vraiment une attirance pour les françaises, du coup, je ne suis pas vraiment surprise." (My brother definitely has a thing for French women , so I'm not surprised)

        Deena lifted a brow at Rebekah's perfect pronunciation. "Tu peux comprendre le français (You understand French)?" She asked. She was happy to have met someone who spoke her native language.

        "Please, I probably invented it." Rebekah mused as she pulled herself onto the squeaky clean counters. She brushed her fingers through her long locks before flipping it effortlessly over her shoulder. "With all the time we have, acquiring languages is like teaching a baby to walk. It's easy. Après tout, tu est à New Orleans (After all, you’re in New Orleans). French is everywhere."

        "We want you to be comfortable, Deena. If you prefer us to communicate in a language you're most comfortable with using, we will be happy to abide." Elijah reassured.

        Rebekah agreed as well.

        Deena only met these people today and they would go to great lengths to make her comfortable even enough to speak her language. It was all too real to be true. More dreamlike than true. "I appreciate it, but we spoke both English and French at home. I can use the extra practice anyway so English is perfect for me."

        "As you wish,"

        Both vampires flickered to Deena at the sound of her stomach growling. It was the tiniest growl. One she couldn't hear though she felt its soft vibrations beneath where her hand rested. Rebekah jumped off the counters, searching through cabinets and hidden spots when Deena lifted her head from her growling stomach, which growled more. A sound Deena heard this time.

        She slammed the nearest cabinet with a dragged groan. "No matter how many bloody times I check, no human food lies about. You must forgive us, Deena, we weren't expecting guests. Alive at least." Human food? Deena looked to Elijah who was glaring at Rebekah, who paid no mind to either of their stares and faced Deena with her arms crossed. "What do you say, little niece? Shall we eat a restaurant dry?"

        Despite her confusion, Deena gave a nod. "Okay," She eased into a smile.

        "Rebekah," Elijah called pressingly. "A word please in the hallway." Once acquiring his sister's attention, he gestured to the hallway outside of the kitchen.

        Of course, she arrived within seconds using vamp speed. Elijah released a stressful sigh at her rash actions. Luckily, Deena was occupied with an ancient-looking vase in the kitchen to witness it.

        "Did I say something wrong? You know I've never been great with children, but I'm willing to learn. Always."

        "It's not that," Elijah peered into the kitchen to check on the child once more. She sat at the counter waiting for their return.

        Oddly, she felt the vibrations of their voices speaking. The same vibrations she heard from those around her. And sometimes if she focused hard enough, she'd hear sounds she could not see. But she couldn't hear them. It was an on-and-off thing that started a month ago. Possibly a special gift. Like a mutant from X-Men.

        It was so strange to Elijah—to all of them—after living an immortal life with no care for mortals who surrounded them as they all perished in time and often by their hunger, to now having a mortal child of their blood in their care. He couldn't keep his eyes off her and believed it to be a fever dream.

        "I'm afraid the child has no knowledge of this world and the creatures which lie within it. I believe her mother has failed to inform her."

        Rebekah scoffed. "Her mother is a powerful witch, an unforgettable one who has done a lot for the communities in her prime time. How could she not know? You can't just turn off magic whenever you want."

        "Her mother might have her reasons. Though she was respected by the deeds she sow, she was as well a threat to those who despise her coalition outside her community." Elijah explained, placing himself in her shoes. "For now, we should reframe from making Deena think we are otherwise but human, which begins with the choice of your wording sister."

        "Well, how the hell do you suppose we do that? The Quarter is roamed with vampires and witches, including her hybrid father who can't control his impulses. Not to mention tonight's a full moon so every vampire who's not across that river will be here. And if she's anything like her mother, I'm sure there's a magical storm cooking up somewhere in her. If not now."

        Deena's ears perked, the vibrations of Rebekah's voice repeating back 'if not now'. She heard her. As clear as day, as if she was standing right over her shoulder, Deena could hear their conversation. Well, not all. She only heard that part and what's to come after. Anything else before that line, nothing.

        But that wasn't all. The ancient-looking vase she once admired before she took her seat at the counter, rattled. Right before her eyes, a force once used after her mother died. When she mourned her death, every window in the house shattered and papers flew everywhere—the same that's happening now. Against the vase.

        She peered back to where Elijah and Rebekah conversed and continued watching the vase, until her focus was brought back to Elijah's speaking. "I have the means to do some digging. Afterall, she is a Mikaelson born from a hybrid father and w—" Deena jumped to her feet with a yelp as the vase continued to rattle, more violently now. Its rattle kept her from concentrating on their conversation and putting together the mixed pieces.

        "...but for now, we are human. And we are hungry..."

        There was something about the rattle, around this very room, within her, which was calling to her. And when she lifted her hand, not knowing what else to do, or why she should do it—it stopped. The rattle stopped. Astonished, Deena peered down at her hand. Then at the vase. What the hell? Did I do that?

        "Deena, are you ready to go?"

        Deena jumped with a gasp at Elijah's voice scaring her from behind without any warning. Her heart thudded in their ears and intensified as she followed his curious gaze toward the vase...the vase she stopped with her hand. 

        "Y-yeah, I'm ready. Just waiting for you two."

        Rebekah revealed herself from behind Elijah's tall figure. "Great because I know an amazing place that will make you feel right at home." She cheered.

━━━━━━ ━━━━━━

        𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐍𝐀 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃’𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐉𝐀𝐇 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐄𝐊𝐀𝐇 were only going to watch Deena eat instead of eating themselves. They acted as if she was filming a mukbang or was fascinated by how much food she digested though all she ordered was red beans and rice with ham hock and lemon water on the side. They brought her to this local spot which served traditional dishes famous in New Orleans. She was overwhelmed by the menu and asked the waiter for recommendations. After having a taste of this delicious delight, Deena could never go back. This was currently her favorite spot.

        A hand soft on Deena's shoulder, "How you liking your food, baby?" It was Lovelie, the owner of the restaurant 'Mama's Joint'. She appeared in her late 40's though with her hair braided individually and pulled back into a half-down style, she looked even younger. But she was sweet and her aura reminded Deena of her mother in a sense.

        "I might become a regular." Deena replied. Judging by the red sauce on her lips, she enjoyed the food a lot more than expected.

        Lovelie smiled. "I'm pleased to see it's a Mikaelson thing. They sure favor this place. Kept me in business for years."

        It was new to be referred to as a Mikaelson though her surname legally remained a Salée. She didn't feel worthy of having their name when they were still strangers to each other. She felt it's a name she must earn and not be given on a silver platter. But stranger or not, it didn't stop Elijah from introducing Deena to Lovelie as his niece.

        "Much more than your delightful cuisines but the culture you put into your work. We always appreciate the city inside and out." Elijah complimented.

        "I'm touched," She sent him a pleased expression before she tapped Deena's shoulder again. "Let me know if you need anything else."

        After she left, Deena took note of their untouched food. Rebekah ordered a drink while Elijah ordered a chocolate fudge cake—all which still remained untouched. The most Elijah had done was poke his fork in the cake.

        "Are you guys not eating?" They followed Deena's furrowed brows to their untouched items.

        "I'm afraid I ate before coming here," Elijah replied, crossing his arms. And he had, but it wasn't human food.

        Deena looked to Rebekah waiting to hear her excuse next. "Me too, but this cake looks tasty," She slid Elijah's cake in front of her and began eating. She ate as if Deena was holding a gun to her head when it was only a simple question, and smiled when feeling Deena's stare. "Just as I remembered...eating this a day ago."

        They both went back to eating. Rebekah actually enjoying the sweet delight though full from an earlier feast.

        But for now we are human and we are hungry. The words played back into Deena's head as she ate her food silently. She inspected them—two perfectly statued humans who appeared human for the most part. They act like humans. They sort of ate like humans. So what did Elijah mean by that statement? Were they not human at all? Or didn't believe they were? They were a bit weird in a sense but Deena brushed it off. It was nice to be around family again.

        Elijah felt the presence of someone near and peered out the window to confirm his suspicion. A fainted smile then curled his lips after narrowing his gaze to the hand fidgeting with the folded napkin.

        Deena went to follow his gaze wanting to know what caught his attention, but her view was clouded by Rebekah's head as she barged the young teenager with questions as if they were in an interview. "Tell us about yourself, Deena. I feel the better we know each other, the more we won't feel like strangers." She continued, shoving a forkful in her mouth. "How about we start with the basics? What's your favorite food? Favorite color? Any boys you fancy? Or girls? Do you recall a moment in life where you felt...magical?"

        Elijah's eyes went big at Rebekah's question and cleared his throat loud enough to put her in her lane, but she ignored Elijah, waiting patiently and eagerly for Deena's response. More so the lather.

        Deena looked between the two. "Um..." She trailed.

        While Deena thought of what to say, Elijah decided to speak in his word while he had the chance. "One question at a time, Rebekah. She is still eating." He told her in a calm, pressing manner.

        She rolled her eyes. "You can't blame me for being excited, but fine. I will wait until she's finished eating. I forget mort—" Caught herself with a smile. "—we tend to eat slow at times. Take your time, dear. Just not all day."

        "It's okay, I'm finished."

        Deena continued to stuff down ham despite her mouth already filled with rice. She was trying to finish her meal in a couple of bites, but her calculations were way off. Much off. The servings here were much bigger than what's given in her country, it would probably take her a day or two to complete. But it didn't stop her from trying.

        Elijah saw she was forcing herself to eat faster and grew worried, as well as the stalking guest across the street before a phonecall occupied his attention. "Please, do take your time and be careful to not choke." He reached for her drink, placing it in front of her and held it there until she took the cup to sip from. "If you wish to finish your meal, we can wait. Believe me, we have all the time in the world to hear the side of your story."

        And Deena did just that. She ate as much as she could hold with the help of lemon water washing down the food. The rest would be scooped in a to-go box and bagged up for a later dinner or midnight snack.

       After a moment of letting everything settle, she sat in her chair with nothing on her brain as she began to think about herself. Of course, she knew all of the things she liked and found passion in, but having to form them into words so that another person could understand her was hard. It reminded her of the first day of school when the teacher chooses a student one-by-one to stand up and share what they've done over the summer including three interesting facts about them. Deena was normally picked last and when she couldn't think of what to say—despite being given a 20+ student headstart—she'd repeat what another had said in different words. But this time, she was the first to be picked.

        "I'm not really a picky eater so I can eat just about anything, but I love cheesecake! It was so bad at one point my mom had hidden the cake and forced me to eat something real. But no matter where she kept it hidden, I always found it. I like oranges too—my favorite fruit. I eat them mostly in the mornings but I like them as a fresh snack throughout the day. And..."

        Deena paused just to make sure she wasn't talking too much or boring either of them to death, but they seemed to not mind her chatter and were genuinely interested in her life.

        Rebekah shared a smile upon hearing the story. "Damn. I guess I'm the only picky eater in the family." She jokingly smacked her lips.

        "Continue on," Elijah prompted.

        "Uh...I like pastel colors, nude is nice too. Better most times. Opposite from my mom who wore every color on the rainbow, she would change her clothes four times a day if it wasn't as crazy or expressive enough. And she would..." Deena stopped herself before she got carried away speaking too much about her mother. Because when she did, she would get emotional, and when she's emotional, she will cry; and when she does cry, it will be hard to stop. And weird things happened when she cried. "Sorry. I was supposed to be talking about me, but I'm here talking about my mom instead. I probably killed the mood." The chuckle Deena let loose was painful, easy to see through, so she stopped and started messing with her unfinished food.

        Elijah handed her a napkin he wasn't fidgeting with the moment a tear shed. "It's quite alright, Deena." He was never great at comforting children, but he was better at it than most of his siblings. So he believed. "I don't mind either story you tell."

        "Speaking of your mother, does she not know you're here? France is very far away, you're a minor, and I'm sure your mother's stapling missing posters across towns."

        Silence.

        Elijah sent his sister a soft glare. She has a big problem with not reading the room and saying whatever was on her mind without thought. "If you prefer we talk about something else we can," Offered Elijah. "Maybe even about ourselves so you don't feel the spotlight is only on you."

        Deena admired her uncle's compassion. She actually would rather talk about them instead of herself because what she was practicing in her head failed to translate properly out her mouth.

         But since they were on the conversation, Deena assumed now to be a decent time to tell everyone the truth. "My mom doesn't know I'm here," She started, fidgeting with the napkin under the table to avoid their contact. "But I didn't run away either. The truth is, she died a month ago; suicide. And when she left, I sort of went through her things—which is where I found a letter about my father and where he lived—then came here on a whim without much planning. I know she didn't want me to come here for whatever reason, but..." She shrugged. "I came anyways and I don't regret it. But if my presence here complicates anything, I don't mind leaving. I can—"

        Rebekah calmed her racy thoughts by grabbing her hand and bringing her mind back to earth. "You're a Mikaelson, love. There is no other place we want you to be but here with us." She reassured her niece, relieved they weren't shipping her back to France so soon.

        When both siblings exchanged a glance, it was clear they shared the same thought surrounding Vanessa's death—flawed. Neither knew Vanessa on a personal level or as well as Klaus did, so maybe it was true and she was fighting some inner demons she couldn't beat. But in a world they live in and the person Vanessa was, suicide was just another easy stamp on cases with evidence beyond the human's capacity. Either it was a case they couldn't understand, or was too lazy to solve and threw it away.

        Elijah stood from his seat, almost jumping in action, and acquired both their abrupt attention. "I will have to hold off on my introduction since a matter has come up." He sent a smile foolish enough to fool Deena, but Rebekah saw past it. "I will make it up to you another time, Deena."

        She frowned a little. "I understand."

        They watched him leave.

        Rebekah then scooted in. "Now that it's just us girls, do tell, do you have a lover back home? A prince charming or princess missing you and waiting for your return?"

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔

𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆

If you like what you read and wish to read more of this fic, you can read HERE

This movie is so beautiful. Love is such a powerful and beautiful thing.👨‍🍼❤️🩷