#a quick short game where the outcome might surprise you | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

taramikealson · 3 years

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Just a sort of canon-ish Drabble that I got a little carried away with.

Set after the events in TVD excluding the “Hell” storyline in Season 8, the miracle babies, Caroline dating Alaric, Marcel taking the serum, and a few minor changes that are hopefully recognizable.

He could feel the irritation crawl along his skin like a serpent slithering itself up and around a tree. With the irritation, came anger.

Sometimes he enjoyed the challenge that came with others riffling with his plans. He has theories as to why he does but deep down he knows the true reason. His wolf. The thrill and excitement that came with the thought of the hunt. Predators such as wolves are born hunters who thrive on such games.

But, he is not only a wolf. No, he is a strategist- a remarkable one at that. There had been no plan, no despicable machination of his that hasn’t had a fail-safe.

Except for this one.

He had gotten himself into a situation where he finally became comfortable again after nearly ten centuries of running. And when he got comfortable, he began to lose his edge.

After successfully re-stabilizing the Quarter and allowing his brother to take a leading role in the peace treaty between the factions, New Orleans fell quiet. Of course, every so often there’d be a dispute between a couple of the factions that rose a concern within his elder brother, but that was always unavoidable. Werewolves, witches, and vampires alike have fought for centuries, that type of violence and warfare doesn’t automatically stop with a peace treaty. His brother may hope for that positive outcome but Klaus had always been a realist. And, unfortunately as he predicted, the peace was temporary.

“Niklaus, this is not a situation that we should ignore.” His brother’s voice sounded through the phone that he had pressed against his right ear.

No, this isn’t something we should ignore. He thinks, tentatively keeping his lips pressed together to keep himself from speaking of something that perhaps his brother shouldn’t know.

“Should Marcel make a regretful move, this treaty we’ve formed could very well be null and void.”

If Marcel were to make a move, it may start a gruesome war between the vampires and werewolves. If Klaus knew Marcel well enough, his former right-hand man is most likely planning something rather ill-conceived. He hasn’t theorized whether the harsh consequences will weigh the heaviest on either the vampires or werewolves, or even the whole Quarter all together. No matter what they may be, he’s most certain his brother won’t be quite pleased with what he has planned.

Although Klaus once held a tight hold over the vampires, it came to his attention that Marcel continued to be respected amongst both the day and nightwalker community. Thus, why in the time of tension, they clamber to him in search of a leader to choose the decisions that will benefit them. Which is why Klaus has chosen to keep the werewolves as an ally. The werewolves have proven to be loyal to Hayley and his daughter because they both are seen as part of the pack, which unnerves Klaus but gives him the relief that those wolves will protect his daughter. The connection that Hayley holds with those werewolves is bound to be manipulated, might as well be him to do so in a beneficial way. For both the stability of New Orleans and the safety of his daughter.

“Brother, do you understand me?”

His shoes crunch against the small layer of gravel underneath his feet.

“Yes.” Klaus tries his best to keep the irritation out of his voice but his answer still sounds short.

The hybrid immediately ends the call, noting that the conversion was to be continued in person. While pocketing his phone, he takes a few steps further along the rooftop and then steps up onto the ledge, giving him a grand view of the Quarter from a few buildings away.

A rough shuffle and a few voices could be heard from a little farther down the alley below him, but he didn’t much care about the happenings within the alley. From what he could hear, there were two men speaking in hushed tones, their heartbeats slower and more quiet indicating their undead nature. The fast and erratic heartbeat that was a few paces in front of them was a clear indication to Klaus of what the vampires below were planning to do.

His lips turned up slightly. He, himself, was feeling a bit peckish, perhaps he’ll grab a quick bite before he returns home to his disapproving older brother.

The vampires eventually closed the woman in, murmuring to her about where she was going and why she was out at such a time. He found it interesting that she stayed quiet. Ninety-nine percent of the time, the women would say something whether it be a plea to let them go or an angry curse.

Wanting to stay out of the house- more like away from his brother- for as long as he can, he turned his head to look down the alleyway. If this ends to be unentertaining, he’ll most likely grab a drink at Rousseau’s.

There, he could see both the vampires crowd into the blonde woman’s space. She has her back pushed up against the rough brick.

“I don’t think it’s very safe for a lady like yourself to be out here.” The vampire states before his eyes transform and fangs replace his blunt teeth. Usually, this is when the victims begin to scream or mutter that modern saying, oh my, God. But the woman doesn’t seem as scared as a normal human would be.

“You’re making a mistake.” She murmurs and Klaus’ eyes widen a hair, recognizing the voice. But before he can think of anything else, the woman is thrusting a wooden stake into the vampire’s stomach.

The vampire doubles over and the other vampire goes to attack the human but he’s no match for Klaus’ speed. Without a second thought, Klaus appears before the vampire, shoving him back before he could get to the woman. The other vampire has now pulled the stake from his torso and was looking to kill but Klaus turned toward him.

“Enough.”

The vampire pauses but scowls at him, a look of disgust and anger apparent in his eyes. His hand rises and points to the human. “She stabbed me! She’s a tourist! Tourists are fair game-,”

“And you would be in the right if it weren’t for her being under my protection.”

The vampire looks a little surprised at Klaus’ declaration and is about to protest once more but Klaus beats him to it.

“Now, I suggest you scamper off to Marcel before I’m tempted to rid you both of your hands.”

Both vampires share a glance and Klaus continues to stand his ground confidently. Eventually, the vampires figure out that it’s probably best for them to avoid any conflict with an Original, the Original Hybrid no less. Thus, they both give the human one last threatening look before flashing away into the night.

With the vampires disappearance, Klaus had began to turn around and quip something sarcastic but his whole expression changes when Caroline’s knees give out. His hands come out at vampiric speed as he catches her by her upper arms and kneels down as he slowly lowers with her.

It’s then that he sees her clearly. Her hair isn’t as perfect as she normally used to keep it, almost like she hasn’t had access to the proper equipment. Her clothes were a little wrinkled and two small dark red dots bled through her white shirt indicating that a bandaged wound was leaking. Concern now flooded through him as his eyes connected with her face. It was as beautiful as ever but there was a deep exhaustion and a line of stress etched into her forehead. Oh how his heart now aches. He thinks that he hasn’t felt as worried for someone as he is with Hope, but yet here he is, holding her just enough so she doesn’t slump over.

He now realizes that she hadn’t just lost most of her strength, but had been keeping herself from showing any weakness towards those vampires. If he wasn’t so concerned with her health, he’d be praising her for her stubborn strength.

“Caroline, look at me, love.” He aides her by tilting her head up gently by her chin. Her eyes are tired and look so vulnerable.

She looks as if she’s about to say something but Klaus shakes his head. “Conserve your strength. You’re alright, I’ve got you.” If those words were spoken to anyone else, they’d have a right mind to be worried but she seemed to feel relieved. He takes that as permission to pick her up, holding her from underneath her legs and shoulders.

His thoughts of what his brother will think of him are completely wiped away when he races to his home. It’s quiet but he knows his brother is lurking somewhere. He’s not quite concerned about Freya, Rebekah, and Hayley’s absences. Ever since the incident between the werewolves and vampires, Hayley has taken it upon herself to help with the remaining pack. Freya is most likely working on another miracle to save this city’s peace and it’s no surprise that Rebekah is with Marcel.

Klaus contemplates taking Caroline to a guest bedroom but the closest one to his is farther than he’d like so he figures that taking her to his bedroom won’t be the worst idea. At least he’d be able to keep a close eye on her for the time being.

He sets her down gently to the dark grey covers and takes a sharp turn into the bathroom. Klaus comes back out a few moments later with a wet washcloth and a couple different sizes of bandages. Caroline shifts a little and grazes her hand against the side of her torso where the wound was which seems to instantly sober her up. She lets out a small gasp and grimaces in pain. Her hand hovers over it as if it’d take the pain away. Klaus walks back over to her and sits on the edge of the bed, a few inches separating himself from her.

Extending his hand, his eyes travel up to her face seeking silently for any sign of rejection before pulling the edge of her shirt up to reveal a blood-soaked bandage. His hands slowly peel away the bandage and Klaus didn’t know what to expect but he hadn’t expect something quite as brutal as this. No, this was not a wound from an accident, this was intentional and by someone who was trying to harm Caroline. In fact, he was quite knowledgeable about this particular wound, or had been when he was human. By the sharp angles of the shape of the wound, he could tell it had been an arrow tip that pierced her skin. When he was human, Kol had been recklessly playing with his father’s bow and accidentally shot Finn in the shoulder. He had kept that arrow shaped scar for as long as he could remember. But just because Finn had survived, it only made Klaus more concerned.

By the tear of the wound, it seems to have been reopened due to stress. Although, he imagines that it’s good news that it’s not infected. Klaus is as gentle as he possibly can be when he pays the wet washcloth along her wound. She bites her lip hard and grasps his arm in a painful grip but he allows her to do so, hoping that if a fraction of his pain can dull hers, then so be it.

After a few moments, she slowly takes her hand away and he begins to clean around the wound.

“Klaus-,”

“Don’t.” He begins, “not now.”

His words come out a tad harsher than intended but she knows he’s just concerned and doesn’t know how to healthily deal with it like a normal human.

“I need you to listen just for once.”

“Caroline, let yourself rest before we speak of anything.”

She appreciated the notion that he valued her safety and well-being more than an explanation of why she showed up in his city as a human. But this couldn’t wait, for her safety and his own.

To truly get his attention, she places her hand on top of the one that was still cleaning the blood off her skin. It pauses its movements and he looks up to her.

“I- I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to use you for your contacts but I didn’t have anywhere else to go.” She hesitates to continue because after she asks, his involvement becomes concrete. Because she knows that he’ll help her. “I need a witch, someone powerful. Someone who can do a cloaking spell that can’t be broken by another witch.”

His face doesn’t express as much emotion as she thought it would but she doesn’t think that it’s a bad thing. He obviously seems to be contemplating something as his eyes bore into hers.

Setting aside the washcloth, he straightens out and takes a sleek black phone out of his jacket pocket. Without hesitation, he clicks a few times on the screen and places the phone against his ear.

“Freya, I need you at the Compound immediately.” With that, he puts his phone away and reaches for a bandage. Taking the plastic off, he softly places it over her wound, pressing along the outside, securing it to her skin without causing her pain.

His eyes refocus onto hers and she spots the anger that has now manifested within those blue orbs. “Who did this?” He asks and Caroline Knew she should have known better than to think the wound wouldn’t show any foul play.

“Silas.” Klaus’ lips part in confusion. For all he knows, Silas had been put in a safe and thrown down the quarry. God, things got complicated since he’d left. Much more complicated than she would have liked.

“For a while he pretended to be Stefan. We didn’t know because we thought he could only mess with a couple people’s perspectives but turns out he’s a doppelgänger.” She mentally cringes when remembering how Silas continuously terrorized her and her friends. She also remembers how Silas had made everyone think he was dead when Stefan killed him but had used it as an out to chalk up another plan that revolved solely around revenge. Against her.

Caroline begins to pull herself up into a sitting position so she’s resting against the headboard and is thankful when Klaus helps her. “Before you came back, we thought Stefan killed Silas but he’d used some last resort spell and it gave him the perfect out to recollect himself.”

“I guess he waited for a few years for things to settle down and for us to be off our guard.Damon was as happy as he could be considering Elena, Bonnie was back, and Stefan and I were getting back on good terms. Silas approached me on the last day of my Senior year.” Klaus notices as she bites her lip and looks down at her hands that have begun to twiddle in slight nervousness. “Silas made me think we were making some kind of deal. I leave my friends behind and never go back to Mystic Falls, or he kills me and everyone I care about. I chose to leave.”

Swallowing, her eyes darted from her hands to Klaus’ face to gauge what he might have been thinking but he wasn’t showing any sign other than that he was just listening to her, allowing her to pour whatever worries she had onto him.

“I don’t know if he thought that I would just settle down in some other place to get the opportunity to know my whereabouts while he tried to kill my friends but he called negotiations off when I skipped the third town I went to. So, he went after me.” When the single tear fell from her eye, she was a little surprised at how vulnerable she was allowing herself to be. “I told everyone that I was taking off for a little bit to go travel since I had finished college. I didn’t want them to try to find me and end up as one of Silas’ next victims.”

She pauses and wipes the stray tear away, trying to recollect herself. She must look like hell, crying would only make it worse. Caroline needed to man-up. There was no doubt that what Klaus had gone through with his father, or step-father, was worse.

Klaus leans forward and takes her hand into his, letting him drop a feather-light kiss along her knuckles. “You are safe. If I ever promise you anything, I will certainly promise you that.”

Caroline can’t help the small smile that forms on her face, knowing that he is being truly genuine. His lips turn up as well.

A small knock on the door interrupts them and Klaus rises from the bed. A taller dirty blonde woman stands in the doorway, analyzing both of them. Klaus crosses the room and pulls the woman further into the hallway, speaking to her in a hushed tone.

After a moment of back and forth conversation, they both advance into the room. Klaus pauses for a minute, watching as the woman approaches the side of the bed. She offers Caroline a reassuring smile that tells her she’s most likely a friend of Klaus’ or at least someone in his good graces.

“Caroline, right? I’m the older and wiser Mikealson sibling, Freya.” Caroline blinks for a moment and looks to Klaus in confusion. Although, she assumes what the woman, Freya, is saying must be somewhat true because all Klaus does is slightly roll his eyes in such a brotherly manner before turning towards the liquor tray.

“Niklaus tells me you need a little bit of a complex cloaking spell.” Caroline nods. Being that Freya must be a Mikealson, it is always safe to walk on eggshells around the ones she’s not very familiar with, no doubt the ones that she never knew about.

Freya turns towards the hybrid who was sipping his drink. “Will you fetch my grimoire and my herb bowl from the study, brother?” Klaus doesn’t seem all too eager to be ordered around but he does as asked and walks out of the room. Freya turns back towards Caroline and motions to the space when Klaus had sat before.

“May I?”

Caroline gives her a short nod and Freya smiles.

“Why are you being so nice to me? I thought all Mikealsons were kinda bordering on the ‘I don’t help anyone but my family’ ideology.” Caroline was going to be more subtle about it but she’s injured and doesn’t feel well, might as well rip off the band-aid.

Funnily enough, Freya laughs. “I’d agree with you but I’m quite aware of who you are.”

Now, that was surprising. Did Klaus say anything about her to his siblings? It didn’t seem like something he’d do. Her mouth opened to say something but she couldn’t find her words. It seems like Freya had an idea of what she was thinking and thought to correct her.

“I saw you when I entered my brother’s mind. If it weren’t under life and death circumstances I wouldn’t have done so. Trust me, I’ve already heard a mouthful from Niklaus.”

That made Caroline even a bit more nervous. Did this woman know everything about her and Klaus then? Had she watched some of their interactions? “How much do you know?” She asks.

“Just enough to know how important you are to my brother.”

That’s not cryptic at all. Caroline isn’t sure if that means Freya knows a little too much than she should or not but she imagines that she can’t push the woman any further than she’s willing so she shuts her mouth. And she also really doubts that Klaus is out of earshot, he can probably hear almost anything from the other side of the house so it’s best not to speak out of turn. Or maybe just not too much about him.

Speak of the devil, because he then walks through the door not even a few moments afterwards, carrying a grimoire and a small bowl with a few items in it that looked close to medical supplies.

He comes up behind his sister and sets her grimoire down on the bed and intentionally hands her the bowl, making her notice the extra supplies within. A sterile needle with surgical string and a couple other medical supplies. As he hands the bowl over to her, he murmurs, “perhaps you should also take a look at her wound, sister.”

By the look in his eye, she could tell he was a bit more concerned about the girl’s physical wound than the cloaking spell being down. Then again, both siblings knew that with all of the magic surrounding the Compound, it would take a highly skilled witch at least a couple hours to work through a location spell for anyone who was there.

Freya nods and takes the bowl from him. Klaus steps back and takes a seat directly across the room from the bed in one of the leather chairs, still allowing Caroline to see him.

The witch silently asks for permission to have a closer look at Caroline’s wound before pulling the new bandage away. Caroline watches Freya’s eyebrows furrow as she inspects the wound. Freya’s eyes look back up to her.

“Have you had this looked at before?”

Caroline shakes her head lightly. “But I tried to keep it closed.” Her lips turn up into a ghost of a smile. “You only learn so much in high school and college level health classes.” Freya understands the lightheartedness within the statement and offers her a smile.

“Well, it seems like you at least kept it clean.” Freya begins. “But I’ll need to stitch it up a little and possibly do a proper cleaning just in case. It’ll probably be easy to put you to sleep for that.”

Caroline’s eyebrows furrow at the lack of a surgical syringe. “Like a witchy anesthesia?”

Freya seems to enjoy her lack of magical knowledge and find amusement in it. “Something along those lines.”

“You’ve done it before, right?”

The witch lets out a small laugh. “Yes, but I can certainly do a demonstration.” Her head turns over her shoulder towards her younger brother but Klaus seems unimpressed.

It was a little reassuring seeing him naturally take up his brotherly role. She hadn’t ever really seen that side of him and never saw him actually interact with his siblings before. It was nice to know that even the Original Hybrid could act like a typical brother once in a great while.

“I promise it’s safe and when you wake, your wound will be patched right up.” Freya reassures and Caroline nods. She knows that Klaus will go just about as far as he possibly can to keep her safe which tells her that Freya is trustworthy. So, she doesn’t think about it too long before she murmurs, “okay.”

———————————————-

Upon breaking the fog of sleep, she doesn’t feel as weak as she had before Freya had put her to sleep which was a good sign. She begins to lift her head off the pillow and suddenly feels a warm hand help her sit up.

Looking over, she sees Klaus hovering beside her. “Easy, love. No need to tear your new sutures.”

His words remind her and she looks down, pulling her shirt up and the bandage aside to see her wound stitched up neatly with a strange light paste spread on top.

“My sister assured me that her little remedy,” he nods towards the paste on her wound, “should have healed you just enough to allow you to shower, if you wish to do so.”

The thought of a steaming hot shower is so appealing to her right now. “God, yes.” She sighs. It’s been so long since she’d been in any type of shower that wasn’t in a hotel or had some sort of modern day technology.

It seems Klaus enjoys her enthusiasm and takes it as a good sign for her health. “Would you like me to fetch my sister to help you?”

Caroline shakes her head. “No, it’s okay. I’m okay.” She silently thinks that should anything happen, he’ll most likely be listening in on her. It was a little creepy to think about but also made her feel a tad safer knowing that he’d always make sure she was safe.

He respects her choice and helps her stand. Waiting a moment to make sure she gets her bearings, he keeps a hand on the small of her back and leads her towards the entrance of the bathroom. She silently thanks him before he closes the door to a crack after her.

Looking around the bathroom, she’s not surprised about how lavish it is and how neat it’s kept. She never really took Klaus as the person who kept his personal space in disarray. As clean as it was, it still held the feeling of being used daily. One of the medicine cabinets was left cracked open a little, a small tin and classic shaving knife was left on top of a white cloth, and a bottle of cologne sat on the counter. If Caroline had possibly thought of a bathroom Klaus would ever call his, this is probably as close to it as she’d get.

Caroline decides that if she takes too long, Klaus may think something is wrong so she strips quickly and turns the water on. She’s pleased when it takes a whole couple seconds for the water to warm. Stepping into the shower, she sighs at how good it feels. The water runs down her, rinsing away all of the dirt and grime from the past couple days.

After getting her hair wet, she reads the minimalist labels on the three bottles that sat on the shower shelf. Thank God they weren’t the typical soaps that guys used nowadays. She shivers at the thought of two-in-one products. These were just simply packaged products that were obviously a little more on the manlier side of things but it’ll have to do.

Rubbing the shampoo and conditioner in her curls, she almost felt a weight lift off of her. Once she finished up basking in the warmth of the shower, she turned the dial off and stepped out. Grabbing the white towel, she wraps it around herself and tries to dry up as much as she can.

Upon walking back over to the bathroom counter she notices that she can’t exactly wear her old clothes but she does choose to wear her bra and underwear again. Hopefully she can ask Klaus to rile her up something for her to wear.

When she exits the bathroom, she immediately notices that the French doors that had led to the balcony outside were now closed with the drapes shut and the sliding door to the bedroom was almost shut all the way. She could hear a little movement in the next room over and assumed it was Klaus.

Stepping further into the bedroom, she sees that she doesn’t even need to ask Klaus for clothes because there’s a pair of yoga pants and t-shirt folded neatly on the bed. It was also accompanied with a hairbrush. Her heart warms at the thoughtfulness but then again, Klaus had always put thought behind a lot of things that involved her.

She’s quick to take the precious privacy that he allowed her and got dressed.

He finally emerged when she was finishing up brushing her hair. He held a plate of food and a glass of water. Caroline places the hairbrush down and into the drawer of the nightstand before scooting herself further back on the bed to give him enough space. Klaus sits down on the edge of the bed and places the glass of water on the nightstand, then handing Caroline the plate. At the sight of the scrambled eggs, bacon, and assortment of fruit on the plate, she was almost worried her stomach would growl. She doesn’t even remember when she last had a proper meal.

“Thank you.” She murmurs when he hands her a clean fork.

His smile is genuine and tells her that he doesn’t find helping her to be a chore. When he watches her carefully as she began to eat, she knew that if he’d done so a few years back she’d find it extremely creepy, but now she’s come to find out that it’s his way of communicating his reassurance. He’s silently telling her that he’s here, he’s going to protect her.

“I’ll leave you to eat. Perhaps get a few more hours of sleep, it’s only a quarter after six.” He states as he rises from the bed. His eyes drift for a moment down to her torso where her wound is covered by her shirt. Something in his eyes changes and he leans down close to her head. She pauses as his lips softly connect with her forehead. He pulls back a little and looks deep into her eyes.

“So long as I have a say in the matter, Silas will never get close enough to touch you again.” He then rises to his full length and exits the room.

——————————————

After eating and getting a couple more hours of sleep she’d ventured out of Klaus bedroom to find him again. When she did he was insistent about getting her at least a week’s worth of clothing for herself. She didn’t make a second objection, knowing that either way Klaus will get her clothing, it was just a matter of if she’d pick it out or have some compelled vampire do it. Thus he’d taken her to a few local shops. In typical guy fashion, Klaus hadn’t been too animated about watching her pick clothing out. In most of the stores, they’d parted ways- her towards anything that caught her eye and him to any empty seat he could find.

Caroline tried to be as time efficient as possible knowing that even a man who has waited a thousand years to break his curse, he still had his limits of patience. As much as she thought he dreaded chaperoning her, because he refused to have a possibility of another vampire thinking they could harm her, he still offered her considerate smiles. There were a few instances where she could feel the heat of his gaze as she walked out of the dressing room. She didn’t know what to make of it and brushed it aside.

This is hopefully the first and last time Caroline thinks this, but she is thankful that Klaus has the ability to compel vampires. He had a vampire, she forgot her name, retrieved Caroline’s brand new clothes and took them to the Compound so they could continue to stroll down a few of the streets.

If Caroline hadn’t spent the last couple years skipping from city to city, she thinks she may have been a little more amazed at the New Orleans architecture. But still, it was truly stunning. She liked that Klaus didn’t directly guide her but just allowed her to wander. Soon, they’d found themselves in a bar. The bartender that approached them seemed very familiar with Klaus and when he’d introduced her to Camille, the woman was welcoming.

It didn’t escape her notice how Camille had laid eyes on Klaus for a few seconds too long before walking off to let her and Klaus enjoy their drinks.

Caroline smiles a little at the situation. “You know, she likes you.”

His lips turn up and he sips his whiskey.

“You may not be aware of this, Caroline, but you are on the exceedingly short list of women who have rejected me.” His head turns towards her with a smug smirk. “You should feel lucky, most of those women are dead.”

Caroline rolls her eyes lightheartedly. “So lucky.” She breathes and looks away from him. His chuckle is rich and deep, making her crack a small smile.

“Quite a number of women find me charming, you surely had at one time.”

The statement brings out an instinct in her to say something snarky or quip something a little harsh but she chooses not to. Instead, her teeth catch her bottom lip as she lowers her gaze to the vodka soda. She doesn’t exactly know what to do. All she’s ever done with him was constantly impolitely reject him with statements about who he killed or what bad things he’s done.

Her eyes go up to see the bartender come out from the kitchen in the back. The girl gives them a small glance and Caroline offers her a friendly smile. Camille seems a little surprised by Caroline’s friendliness, almost as if she was expected to be ignored or brushed off. Caroline has no doubt that the crowd that Klaus would spend time with would be most certainly supernatural, thus their lack of interest in simple human servers. Although, Klaus seemed a little keen of her. Truthfully, she didn’t know what to think about it. If it was a few years ago, she would have rather drowned before admitting that she was a tad jealous when it came to Klaus, but she was older and more mature. So, yeah. Maybe she felt a little jealous that the girl’s feelings towards Klaus could be mutual. But she also wasn’t going to be spiteful of it.

Stirring the small straw that floated in her untouched drink, she murmurs, “If you want to go talk to her, there’s nothing stopping you.” Her voice is as neutral as she can make it.

Even now without her vampire senses, she could still feel his fiery gaze in the side of her head. He lets out a low chuckle.

“Camille is a close friend of my family. She’s sacrificed quite a bit to aid my family’s survival and I’ve repaid her loyalty with protection.” He begins. “Our relationship may have developed into somewhat of a complicated friendship since she’s known me, but that is simply it.”

Caroline turns her head towards him and his eyes are as clear blue as ever. “But by no means do I wish to be in anyone else’s company other than yours.”

There’s a brief moment between them where both of their solid barriers were dissolved and their eyes just simply met. They said nothing but their eyes communicated plenty. But, that moment was only brief.

The bell over the door to the bar chimes when it opens, the noise from the street could be heard for a moment before the door closes again. Both Klaus and Caroline are shaken out of their moment when a voice chimes.

“Now, this is interesting.”

Caroline is a little taken aback even though she should have expected to come across another Original. Hell, she wouldn’t doubt that the whole Mikealson clan was crawling around New Orleans at this point. It seemed to be almost like a hub for them.

Klaus is the first to turn in his seat and greet his sister. “Sister, a bit of a surprise to see you on this side of the river. Has Marcel finally bored you enough?” His tone has dramatically changed from the genuine one before to something more smartass-y.

When Caroline scoots on her stool a little to look more properly at the female Original, she notices how annoyed Rebekah gets because of Klaus’ comment.

“No, I came to visit my niece. Whom, in which, has noticed your lack of presence.” Rebekah then gives Caroline a disapproving glare. “But I think I know why.”

Klaus sighs quietly and Rebekah is about to say something but pauses. Her eyes scan Caroline carefully. After a moment, her eyes widen and she flashes towards Caroline, aggressively yelling, “who the bloody hell gave you the cure!?”

Caroline stumbles out of her stool as fast as she can and takes a few steps back. Rebekah is about to get into her face again but Klaus zips in front of her, blocking her way to Caroline.

“I-,” Caroline doesn’t know what to say or how to even start to calm down the Original. She’s not as strong as she once was. One little neck snap and she’ll be done.

“Rebekah.” Klaus growls in warning, earning a glare from his sister before her gaze goes back to the blonde.

“Why do you get the choice? You, of all people?”

Caroline is beyond grateful that no one else was in the bar because she’s sure that there could have been a bloodbath if there were.

Klaus is about to say something but Rebekah beats him to it.

“How is it that you get to have a normal life?”

Those words seemed to trigger something in Caroline. Something emotional.

“You think I want this? Do you think I chose to have a normal life where I’d meet some regular guy, marry him, have a few kids, and work for the rest of my life?” Rebekah frowns and Klaus turns his head just enough to look at her. “I didn’t. I don’t want that life and I didn’t choose to become human again. So, blame me all you want for being a bitch to you or whatever, but don’t blame me because you didn’t get the human life you’ve always wanted.”

It seems like Caroline’s words have an effect on Rebekah because she shrugs her brother’s hand away from her and takes a step back. Caroline can’t exactly know for sure but she thinks that maybe Rebekah can somewhat relate to her. Rebekah had always wanted to be human but was stuck as a vampire. Now, Caroline wants to be a vampire but is stuck as a human.

When Rebekah takes that step back and Klaus is sure she’s not going to try to attack Caroline again, he fully turns his body towards the blonde human. She can’t gauge exactly what he’s thinking but it could have been a cross between surprise and sympathy.

The younger Original looks almost a little guilty when she casts a glance towards Caroline but instead doesn’t say anything before flashing away. As the light breeze wafts over them from Rebekah’s exit, Klaus takes a step forward towards her.

“Caroline.”

She shakes her head. “I-,” her eyes shut for a moment. “Please don’t make me talk about it.”

She fully expects Klaus to struggle with her request but he quickly proves her wrong and gives her a short nod in understanding.

————————

Caroline’s fingers drum silently against the cold metal of the railing she’s stood behind. The city has now been cascaded in darkness but people still mull about on the street beneath her. The very idea of the liveliness of this city brings a smile to her face. The neon lights of shops and street lamps were now lit up to shine down on the passerbyers below, their drunken ramblings slightly muffled due to her human hearing.

She finds that Klaus was right. There was something about this city that not only attracted the party-seeking humans, but also the darker creatures who lurked in the shadows. She may not be a vampire any longer but that doesn’t mean the connection she holds with the darkness was shaken. There is not just history in this city, it is the home of the supernatural. Caroline bets that if she were still a vampire, she could have spotted a couple dozen supernaturals that had walked by in the past thirty minutes she's been up on Klaus’ balcony.

She only hopes it doesn’t attract a different kind of supernatural.

Out of the corner of her eye, she can sense movement just as a figure joins her. Their hand grasps the railing casually and when they sigh, a white cloud escapes their lips from the continuing dropping temperature of the night. He doesn’t attempt to make a move to slide closer to her and she appreciates the space he’s giving her, along with the time of silence.

As they stood in silence, listening to the noises of the city before them, she could recall how nervous she used to get during long periods of silence. She had always tried to fill them up with mindless chatter or something to that nature. But now? She finds that she sort of enjoys it. His presence may be a little nerve-wracking at times of tension but, as of late, Caroline seems to feel at ease knowing he’s just right there- not totally offering her comfort but the reassurance of his presence.

“You’re cold.” His voice murmurs smoothly through the air. It’s only then that she notices the goosebumps that trek along her arms. The light breeze flows around them once more, reminding Caroline that she doesn’t have as much tolerance to the weather as she once had when she was a vampire.

Her eyes lifted towards him to watch as he slid the casual high-collared blazer off just to then gently place it over her shoulders. Caroline’s arms cross and grasp the sides of the coat, pulling it closer to her body before offering him a smile in thanks. Although his eyes seemed to be light, there was a hint of concern to be seen.

“Caroline, what aren’t you telling me?”

The words surprise her, not because he’s asking them, but because he’s asking them now. She should have felt lucky that he hadn’t asked her earlier or even within the first ten minutes she was in New Orleans.

A lot. She thinks.

When she doesn’t speak, he sighs and shifts closer to her.

“You should be aware that I will do everything in my power to keep you safe, but I can’t very well do it if I don’t know any of the details.” He pauses for a moment before continuing. “I understand that these past few years haven’t been as undemanding as you’ve hoped, but you need to tell me something- anything- so that I can help you.”

Caroline contemplates just shrugging it off and telling him there’s nothing to talk about but that would be a lie. A big lie. She came to him for help, slept in his bed, and ate his food. It would have been foolish of her to think that she could take full advantage of his protection and not have to give him a detailed explanation. But, she doesn’t know exactly how to start and how to proceed. There are specifics that he doesn’t want him to know about, but if she were to leave them out, she’s sure that he is intelligent enough to put a few pieces together, or at least tell that she’s leaving a few key details out. She had two options. Either she tells the truth or she omits, telling him that she doesn’t have the courage to give him an explanation. The last option would be the easier route, but one that would most likely drive a wedge between them, thus possibly compromising their safety.

If she were younger, she would have grappled for a third option. But she was older and more mature now. Even though the prospect of what Klaus may think of her afterwards held a sizable weight over her head, she knew that she couldn’t avoid telling Klaus the truth.

“Silas isn’t just chasing me because I helped in the plan to kill him.” She breathes.

Klaus’ eyes blink in surprise, as if he’s shocked that she’s actually opening up to him. But he allows her to continue.

“When you came back to Mystic Falls, I didn’t tell you the whole truth about what happened with Silas. When Stefan lured Silas outside, I was left alone on the far side of the boarding house. Someone had grabbed me and I acted on instinct because I knew Damon, Elena, and Qetsiyah were in the parlor, so I assumed it was Silas.” Caroline looks away from the Original and out towards the night sky. “It turned out to be Amara.” Her eyes slowly drifted back over to him to gauge his reaction. He stood still, eyes just taking her in and processing the information that she was offering him.

“Silas’ one true love.” Her eyes hold guilt and a sadness within them as she remembers the events that occurred nearly five years ago. “She was innocent and I killed her.”

A stray tear begins to form in her eye and bubbles over, making a thin wet trail down her cheek. Klaus’ hand doesn’t move as fast as it normally does when he gently wipes the tear from her face, making sure not to make any moves that she wouldn’t be able to reject. The heat of his palm against her jaw and the pressure it holds gives her an odd sense of comfort that she wouldn’t have expected.

“I don’t know how he found out after he faked his death, but he-,” she begins to struggle to speak, the emotions beginning to take advantage of her. “He approached me in my dorm one day and I’m not sure if he planned it or not, but Tyler happened to walk in.”

Caroline lets out a small exhale to try to keep her emotions slightly underwraps but she can’t help the couple tears that escape her eyes. Turning her head away, she feels a shade of guilt run through her. “He- he killed Tyler right in front of me.” She also tried to explain how after Silas left her with his ultimatum, she had to find a place to bury Tyler and come up with a story for his absence, but she thinks she would have totally broken down if she spoke another word. It didn’t take much longer than a couple seconds before his arms had brought her closer to him and she didn’t shy away from pushing her head into his shoulder and wrapping her arms around his torso.

The heat radiating off of him almost felt like it began to wrap around her, comforting her in her grief. Klaus kept one arm around her back and another in the hair on the back of her head. His head craned down and he gently pressed his lips to her temple. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to. She feels the most safe she has ever felt in the past two years in his arms. The sandalwood cologne fills her lungs when her nose digs deeply into his shirt, surely ruining it with her tears but she's not too worried about that right now.

After a few long moments of being wrapped up in his body, he halts the slow brushing of her hair that she had just noticed he was doing. Klaus’ head pulls away to get a better look at her and she tilts her head up to do the same.

“Come. Let’s get you inside.”

Caroline nods and lets Klaus guide her back into his bedroom. He shuts the French doors behind him and closes the cream drapes, the sounds of the city now greatly muffled by the extra barrier. Caroline walks over to the bed. Once she’s sat down, Klaus is already over by the fireplace and starting the fire. She tries to catch her breath. Although she wasn’t sobbing, she still finds it hard to regain herself. A crackle comes from the fireplace and when Klaus stands from his crouched position, she can see the small flames of the fire begin to lick at the wood inside. In no time, Klaus is right there, taking the coat from her shoulders and silently encouraging her to lay down on the bed. She pulls the soft covers over herself as Klaus’ eyes rove over her.

“Will you stay?” The words escape her lips before she can understand what she had said.

Klaus studies her for a moment but his attention is pulled towards the sliding doors that are cracked open just enough for him to see his brother. His brother’s presence now reminds him of the factions meeting they were supposed to attend tonight in light of the recent events between the witches, werewolves, and vampires, but Caroline is in a sensitive emotional position. Although he finds it surprising for her to feel comforted by him, he doesn’t feel as inadequate for the job as he would with anyone else. He decides then what he will do. New Orleans can wait. If anything, his brother is more than equipped with handling tonight’s meeting without him.

His head turns back towards Caroline. The deep blue of his eyes already indicate his answer to her and she slides to the other side of the bed to give him room. Klaus toes off his boots and just before he lays down, his eyes glance up to see the sliding door closing all the way and his brother’s footsteps retreating away.

When he’s settled onto his back, Caroline quickly tucks into his side. The move isn’t unexpected with her trying to seek a source of comfort. He slowly pulls his arm out from under her and instead wraps it around her body, placing his hand just above her hip as she buries herself into his ribcage.

Klaus lays there for a while, listening to the changes in her heart beat and studying the way it slows when she falls asleep. He only allows himself to shut his eyes when he hears his brother return an hour later, feeling more comfortable being asleep when at least one other Original is awake. He won’t take any chances with Caroline. He won’t risk losing her.

-------------------------------------------------

When Caroline wakes up that next morning, she isn’t shocked that she’s alone and the place where he had once been was vacant of his body heat. She never assumed Klaus to be the type of man to sleep in by any means being as paranoid as he usually was but it had seemed like he’d been gone for quite a while. As much as she wants to think that maybe he had some weird bout of inspiration to paint or do whatever artistic thing he prided himself with, she has the better judgement to know it was business related.

From what she could tell, he and his brother were the main one’s calling the shots in the French Quarter. Not unexpected, considering Klaus is, well, Klaus. But he has subtly mentioned from time to time whilst they were out yesterday that there was some tension between a few of the supernatural factions. Caroline imagines that it's more of a regular occurrence and something that comes with ‘ruling’ (Klaus’ words, not her’s) over the supernatural community within New Orleans. Thus, it doesn’t take a genius to understand Klaus must have a decent amount of business to conduct most of the time. She wouldn’t be all too surprised if he was out handing threats out like flyers first thing in the morning.

The mere idea that Klaus has probably been awake for at least a couple hours now prompted her to get motivated for the day. Although she didn’t directly have any plans other than possibly not getting her throat ripped out by Rebekah, she still needed to eat.

It didn’t take her long to get dressed and make her way out of Klaus’ bedroom. But when she made it to the hallway outside of Klaus’ study, she was a little torn on what she should do next. Klaus hadn’t exactly shown her around the Compound so she really only knows the way in and out of the Compound from his living quarters.

There were a few doors on each side of the hallway. She chose the route she was more familiar with and decided to start there. Fearing that she might be interfering in his family’s privacy, she only ventured into the rooms that were already open. She first found a parlor room with dark red couches and a small wet bar, next she found a very extensive library where she read a few of the titles of the books. Some were familiar and some were totally unknown to her, but she imagined that she wouldn’t know any books that were written in other languages like the French one she decided to flip open. After finding a few first editions, she thought it best to move on and keep her human, clumsy hands away from books that could be worth more than a couple thousand dollars. When exiting the library and finding the courtyard, she climbed down the stairs and got lucky when she found the kitchen.

Walking over to the fridge, she crosses her fingers that she doesn’t just see blood bags. Upon opening the fridge, she’s satisfied to find a tray of eggs, milk carton, a drawer dedicated to fruits and vegetables, a couple bottles of water, some condiments in the door slots, and a couple other assorted food items that were relatively healthy. She would do just about anything right now to satisfy her sweet tooth that she woke up with but she’s also grateful that the Mikealson’s even have food in general, so she’ll take what she can get. So, Caroline takes the grape jelly out of the door slot and then goes to search for bread. Surely if they had food in the fridge, they had to have some non-refrigerated items too, right?

Looking through a couple of the cabinets, she mentally notes which cabinet held the plates, glassware, coffee grounds, and such. She finally finds the bread and limits herself to two slices. She may be hungry but she’s also human.

Grabbing a plate and spotting the toaster conveniently placed on the counter next to the coffee machine, she places the slices of bread inside.

In that moment, she thinks of the simple weekday mornings just before school. Those so easy and simple times where she had convinced herself could be the worst for her. How wrong she was. Now, she misses those mornings where all she had to worry about was boys and if she was going to pass that week’s pop quiz. In fact, she can even say she misses the times where the worst that could happen was an unexpected visit from a particularly moody Original hybrid in which had a 50/50 percent chance of ending with a pair of toxic hybrid teeth in someone’s throat.

Now, Caroline realizes that Klaus must have either grown to enjoy watching her and her friend’s failed attempts to end his life or preferred to use ‘kid-gloves’ because if he were to kill any of her friends, he knew better than to think she’d ever forgive him. Either way, she feels somewhat lucky in an odd way that he hadn’t reacted as badly as she now knew he could have. Unlike Klaus, Silas had no attraction or reason to extend any amount of mercy towards her, which was extremely terrifying. Silas may be mortal now but he is also a very powerful witch. One that was able to keep up with her when she was still a vampire.

The ding of the toaster brings her out of her reverie. Caroline reaches into the toaster to carefully pull the slice of bread out. The front of her finger grazes the hot metal inside and she pulls it out as quickly as she can on instinct. “Damnit!” She whispers heatedly, knowing there were other vampires within the house. In the process of taking a step back as the pain still sizzles underneath her skin, she could see something in her peripheral vision. Turning her head quickly, she yelps.

“Shit!” She curses, jumping slightly in her own skin when she finds an unexpected figure in the entranceway of the kitchen.

A smirk graces his features and a deep chuckle escapes his lips.

“God, you can’t do that. I can’t exactly sense when you’re creepily stalking me anymore.”

He doesn’t respond but she thinks he gets the point. Klaus walks over to her and easily deposits both slices of toast onto the plate she had out. Fishing out a butter knife from one of the drawers and opening the lid to the jam.

“I’d like to take you somewhere.” His eyes glance over to her as she watches him spread the jam over the slices of toast before placing the used knife into the stainless steel sink. He then slides the plate closer to her and walks back over to the fridge to put the jar of jam away.

Caroline takes the plate and takes a couple steps over to the island counter where a couple stools sat. She sits and takes a bite out of her toast. “Now?”

“As soon as you are ready.” He then grins at her, clearly hiding something from her. “Although, I recommend you wear something you don’t mind getting dirty.”

----------------------------

They’ve been in the car maybe five minutes before Caroline began to question him on where he was taking her.

“Seriously?”

His eyebrow rises and he glances towards her with lighthearted eyes that tell her he was certainly enjoying her irritation. Caroline just resorts to glaring at him but it doesn't hold nearly the same weight that it had a few years ago when she’d glare at him then and he clearly knows it. Klaus’ eyes return to the road and Caroline sighs, settling further into the leather seat of his luxury SUV.

“If you can’t tell me where we’re going, can you at least tell me something?” She asks, thinking that maybe he would want to play the ‘hint game.’

A sly smirk puts the edge of his lips up. Instead of giving into her, he decides to veer off into a different topic altogether.

“Do you recall the period of time when Alaric helped train the doppelganger in the ridiculous hope that it would somehow keep her safe from my siblings and myself?”

Caroline is a little taken aback by his question. Obviously, she remembers. Elena had once tried to get her to join her and Alaric. What surprised her about it though was that he even knew about it in the first place because Elena had thought they’d kept it all ‘hush hush’ specifically so he wouldn’t find out. Although, Caroline now thinks that he would most likely know from pulling the information out of Tyler or having a hybrid tail them once in a while. Both scenarios are equally as realistic.

The Land Rover slows and turns down a dirt path that is cascaded with tall trees. Clearly, he was taking her somewhere in the countryside.

“Yeah, but I don’t see how that’s relevant unless you plan to drag me out into the middle of the woods and kill me.” She turns her head to look at him. “Because I will put up one hell of a fight.”

His chuckle is low but not in a dark way. The blue in his eyes gets a little brighter when he parks the car at the edge of a large clearing. There’s a few fallen logs and if Caroline squints just enough, she can make out the shape of a couple makeshift tents a couple hundred yards away. She feels the Original turn towards her after shutting the car off and she looks his way.

“Trust me, sweetheart, if I were to make you my victim, I wouldn’t need to take you to the Bayou.” The tone in his voice is as casual as if he were talking about dinner plans and the smile he dotes is edging on the side of diabolical.

She raises a brow and turns away from him as she opens the passenger side door. “Because that makes me feel reassured.” Caroline knows his lips tug higher up into his cheeks, enjoying her slight sarcasm and their back-and-forth banter. Sometimes she thinks he likes making her angry, she can’t really think of a reason why, but he seems to always draw that emotion out of her at times when he doesn’t really have to.

Upon getting out, she notices he rounds the back of the car and opens the tailgate. Klaus pulls two objects out and closes the tailgate before meeting her a few paces away from the black vehicle. Her eyes widen a hair and her eyebrows rise dramatically when she sees what he took out for the back of his SUV.

He holds two long medieval looking swords, one in each hand. Stepping up to her, he readjusts his grip on one of the swords and holds it by the blade, offering it to her by the leather wrapped handle. She physically hesitates, clearly confused about what his end goal was.

Klaus seems amused by her reaction and tips his head to the side.

“Go on, it won’t bite you.”

Her eyes shift from the sword in his hands and his eyes. Slowly, she grasps the handle of the sword and Klaus lets go. Caroline struggles for a moment, the sword being heavier than she had anticipated. Not knowing what to do with it, she lets the end of it sit on the ground.

On the other hand, Klaus holds his sword by the handle and holds it out diagonally in the air.

“Strike it.” He orders.

Caroline does nothing except look at him strangely before rolling her eyes. “Seriously? You brought me out here for your own amusement? Newsflash, I’m not exactly some minion you can drag out to weird places and play ‘swords’ with.”

Klaus sighs and lowers the sword down, expertly thrusting the point into the grassy ground.

“This is no game, love. As much as I’d like to be showing you my city, I have a vested interest in your safety and to keep you protected. From what I have come to realize within the past years in residing in New Orleans, I can’t be in multiple places at once. Thus, why we are here.” His empty hand motions along as he speaks and his eyes glance around the clearing at it’s mention. “I’d like to be able to say that I will be by your side at all times, but that would simply be false. Which is why I think it is pertinent and rather of astronomically great import that you have some ability to defend yourself.”

Caroline glances down at the sword in his hand. “With a sword?” She asks with a stifled laugh, almost amused by the thought of using a sword in an actual realistic fight.

“No, but it gives you a starting place and the ability to learn how to use spare objects as weapons.”

Klaus then raises the sword again and nods. “Now, strike it.”

#klausmikealson #klaroline #drabble #klaroline drabbles #the originals #klaus mikaelson #the vampire diaries #klaus x caroline #caroline forbes #elijah mikaelson #freya mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson

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memes-in-a-half-shell · 3 years

Text

Business AU - Working Late, Part 5

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa Sorry for the wait, I had a nightmarish week.... I won’t let this little fic die 💜 I can’t wait to write more about it, even though the chapters are hella short xD

She couldn’t deny the butterflies in her stomach. That evening with Donnie have had that je-ne-sais-quoi that made her smile mindlessly whenever she’d think about it. It’s been a while since she last felt like that...

On Thursday they barely had time to have any conversation, only to have their next interaction postponed to Friday - a single day without talking to him almost feeling like an entire week... Vee was going on and about from one corner of the office to the other, handing a pile of documents to various departments, until she passed before Donnie’s office. The door was wide open, giving him a chance to see her walk by. His reaction had been almost immediate, jumping on his feet and going straight to the door frame.

“Vee!”

The woman stopped in her tracks, looking in his direction with a surprised look. They were both frozen for a moment, speech a meaningless thing right at that moment... Donnie tried to redeem himself, quickly clearing his throat and straightening his posture.

“Need help?” he asked, gesturing the documents Vee was holding.

Her lips parted in a small “o”, glancing at her burden and then back at the mutant.

“... Are you sure you want to help me with that? Don’t you have important boss things to do?”

“I’m already done for the day,” he answered instantly.

He approached Vee, lowering his voice.

“Please, I need to look busy, or else Leo will drop more work on me. I don’t want to get something dumped on me that might interfere with my other plans.”

“Which are?” asked Vee, her voice a whisper as well, entering the game.

“As soon as he’s out of here, I’m jumping back to the Lowline drawing board. He considers it low priority for now, so he doesn’t really like when I get some work done on it while we have other more urgent projects in the works.”

Vee parted her pile in two, dumping some files in his hands.

“Follow me then, boss,” she smiled with a quick wink.

As both were on the move, Donnie couldn’t help looking at the woman once more, amused as he noticed:

“Looks like we broke the curse,” he started. “We’re not wearing the same colored clothes anymore!”

Vee was wearing a black shirt that had a pattern of colorful, jungle type leaves, the bottom of it tucked in her jeans. Her relaxed look was completed by her teal hair tied up in a messy bun. Meanwhile Donnie rather simple with a white shirt, an unevenly striped black and white tie, and beige pants.

“Huh! Beige suits you,” noted Vee, observing him as well.

“Wearing those clothes can be a challenge sometimes. Pale clothes are a nightmare whenever you do anything. I’m always so scared that I’ll spill anything on them.”

“Right?!” agreed the woman. “It can be such a nightmare. Imagine white pants! I’d be so scared to sit anywhere anytime!”

Small laughters were exchanged, the duo still walking. Their task was easily embellished with small talk of various subjects, Vee’s day suddenly brigthened by Donnie’s presence. All was good and she couldn’t be ever more grateful for any seconds spent with him...

***

As the rest of the day passed, Donnie thankfully avoiding any tasks from his older brother, people were starting to leave the office, this being the duo’s cue for their project. As Vee had a better understanding of the Lowline’s needs, she was able to provide better feedback about how to approach the plans and drawings, actively pointing whenever Donnie was doing something wrong and the woman simply grabbing a pencil, adding her touch here and there. She didn’t give a second thought about standing close to the mutant, her focus primarly on the drawing. She could sense Donnie’s gaze on her though, the turtle enamored with her work. He was truly open to her comments and loved to get the conversation going about how to proceed, appreciating her knowledge. They worked well together. ... So well that they didn’t see time pass and soon it was almost past eight in the evening. Exiting the small room in which the drawing board was in, they noticed rain starting to fall outside, the mutant then offering to drive the woman back home - to Vee’s greatest relief.

New York was restless. Even in the late hours of the night, it was still booming with life in certain areas, never a dull moment to be had. Vee loved looking at all the lights coloring the streets, the slight start of rain amplifying their shimmering on the pavement like an ephemeral oil painting. The vehicle's motion was creating a kaleidoscope of colors inside the SUV, slowly fading as the pair was rolling away from the busy streets to a somewhat calmer part of town. As Donnie parked near a sidewalk, the rain amplified, the drops drumming against the car's body. He wasn't close to Vee's apartment building, so the woman knew that if she were to step outside, she'd be soaking wet in no time.

“If you don't mind,” she started, looking over to the terrapin. “Can I wait in here for little while? I'm guessing this strong pour will stop at some point, they always do....”

Donnie gently smiled.

“They do indeed, and I don't mind at all,” he answered.

They paused, listening to the rain. This comfortable silence allowed Donnie to gather his thoughts, finally speaking up after a while:

“… It's rather nice, don't you think?”

“The ambient sound?” questionned Vee.

Donnie conceeded, while also adding: “Sure, it's calming. … But I just kept thinking; it's also nice to be here with you. It's nice that we seem to get along so well...”

Vee was suddenly speechless, her heart thundering in her ears. She tried to boot her thoughts back to her brain, tucking some strands of hair away.

“I- … yeah. It's nice.”

She felt his hand hold her left one, his touch soft as he brushed his thumb on her skin. “… I'm sorry, I'm making you uncomfortable,” he said.

“No!” reassured Vee. “No please, I... I simply wonder if this is right?”

She had said that last part with uncertainty, afraid she'd say something wrong.

"And what is 'this'?” questionned the terrapin, remaining calm.

Vee threw him an unimpressed look, getting a chuckle out of the male in return.

“Don't play this game with me, Donnie,” she said. “We're adults. I know flirting when I see it. … I just don't want it to be ill-intentioned on your part.”

His eyes grew wide, a slight distress felt in the air.

“I would never!” he added. “… To be frank, I'm not really used to flirting, so I'm sorry if I'm giving weird vibes.”

“Are you kidding?” lightly laughed Vee. “You make me blush so often, it might become permanent at some point.”

She brought her other hand to his, now properly holding him, simply to bring weight to her words:

“You've made me feel alive ever since we properly met... I simply feel happy, but considering our positions at work, that's why I'm asking if this is right? … I wouldn't want to dive too deep into this simply to drown...”

“People may say what they want, but I think as long as we remain professional, there's no harm?”

Their eyes met, trying to guess the right answer through unspoken words. As the rain was still gaining in strength, the loud pitter-patter seemed to break any barriers, Donnie gaining further courage to speak again:

“You're a beautiful and interesting woman, Vee. Just thinking about you makes me feel warm and I can't stop smiling... I realize that's a bit bold to lay out, but just as you said: we're adults. And I don't see why I should hide the fact that you're bringing me joy lately.”

Vee felt her heart melt, her hands slightly squeezing his. A faint sigh left her as she attempted to cling to reason:

“Let us see where things go from now on. … I think we need to rest our heads on this before anything else. … I appreciate you a lot, Donnie, I do. But right now we need to learn how to walk together before we sprint to any outcome.”

“I agree,” smiled the turtle. ‘’There’s no rush indeed. ... I like any moments spent with you.”

This moment felt so surreal all of a sudden. To openly express such feelings out in the open indeed was bold, from both of them, but it just felt so right. As a sign of fate, the rain was calming down, thus being the cue for Vee to head out and get home. She wanted to stay here. She wanted to feel his presence and hear more about how he felt, but at the same time she wanted to stay true to her words.

“Well ... I guess this is time for me to go,” she said.

“Are you busy tomorrow night?”

That question surprised her at first.

“What now, I have to lay out my entire schedule to you?” she joked.

“Not really,” grinned Donnie. “But how about a date? That way we shall see how things unfold from now on.”

That caught her slightly off guard, but knowing she had thrown somehow the idea on their last evening out, she knew it was bound to happen.

“How could I ever decline?” she said, smiling. “... I’d like that very much.”

Donnie brought one of her hands up, leaving a soft kiss on top of it.

“Then you make me a very happy man.”

((Part 6))

#it's-a-moi #business au #again - the usual sorry for if there's any mistakes #I have some glasses of wine in me SO BEAR WITH ME #next chapter is the date #then we have some saucy things coming up HriehHroehrhOHRNEOHOHONNN

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honkster · 4 years

Text

Why the Dream SMP’s way of storytelling is IMPOSSIBLE to recreate in any other medium.

This has been in the back of my mind for the longest time. I think I finally got it.

People have talked about this before, and they’ve put forward some good points, and good for them – most of them are correct. It’s the way the ccs interact with each other, it’s how plot is mixed in with banter, that’s all good! I wanna put more out there.

So you know how you open a book to read, you start a new show, you sit down to watch a movie – that’s all produced by some sort of company, someone who made it specifically for you to enjoy. You expect a certain dramatic flair to it, certain cinematic choices, certain ways of writing, certain camera angles, certain reactions to things. That’s just ingrained expectations of things now.

The DSMP? Doesn’t have that.

The low expectations work very much in its favor. It’s a Minecraft role-playing server with a bunch of famous youtubers/streamers, who are all good friends and have great dynamics with each other. So when you expect “just another Minecraft video” but in stream form, or you watch the videos because there are certain people in them, you don’t expect to be dropped into extreme lore and sensitive topics, realistic situations proposed in game form, a combination of serious stuff and just fun times with friends goofing around – and you’re pleasantly surprised.

We, the fandom, are used to it a bit more now. How excellently they manage to make a serious story in such a “ridiculous” medium, how much it affects us all and gets our creative juices flowing. But even the ccs can’t predict some of the things that happen. And that’s fun.

The whole election ending the way it has? That was on us. And it made some of the most angsty content there has been in the DSMP. People still theorize about the arc and make connections to now – that’s pog!

Fundy being adopted by Eret – that sparked the whole “Fundy just wants a dad – let’s get him some love” thing that made FundyWasTaken and other Fundy+someone ships happen. I see a different person paired with Fundy every week, and somehow, I agree with all of them. I really got into Fundy because of that stream where Eret “slept through the adoption” and Fundy confronted his real dad and spent time with his granddad. That little stream gave us more insight into Fundy’s whole character (Nevermind Fundy showing off his acting skills – you go you funky little fox), but also justifies some of his actions now. DryWaters? Wanting to kill Technoblade? Fucked up reasons, but we still love him.

Phil being broken out of house arrest ahead of time – still made a great stream and Phil agreeing with Techno’s want for revenge – that made us all very happy. The SBI!!! The AE! And that’s also a thing!

That even if we do know or have predicted what’s going to happen, begged it out of the ccs basically, it is still incredibly fun to watch. Where some books/shows/movies fall short and reveal too much and end up being “too predictable”, they’re not fun anymore. I read this somewhere before, that sometimes holding back EVERYTHING from the reader, and relying on shock value to make a good story is just bad. Whereas if you progress the story naturally and let the reader make some predictions of their own and then they end up being right – that’s a lot of serotonin right there. It’s the re-readability that makes it slightly better the second time.

The DSMP takes this concept and fucking yeets with it. Letting fans engage in the story, letting them theorize and then be right, even acknowledging the fanart that was made, just engaging with the community that their roleplay created – that makes it so much more fun. I bet that even if the whole script was revealed to the fandom we would still watch every plot stream. Even if we knew vaguely what happens in the stream, we would tune in and enjoy every second of it. Because the ccs are just that good, we love them that much, we love this plot that much.

Oh and the unpredictability helps too. Tommy in exile was the vague concept of a lot of the streams – it’s taken that and ran with it in a lot of different directions. All quite enjoyable.

Having said all of that… The fact that this type of telling a story is impossible to recreate in any other medium is… kinda saddening? It is incredibly unique, and I’d say has things that not a lot of the people that produce mainstream media would even consider. “Just friends hanging out” – how would that make the script progress? “Engagement with the fandom, even considering their wishes for the characters” – but we’re telling a story here!

The only thing I can think of that would come close to the vibe, would be just a bunch of writer friends coming together, thinking up a universe and general plot, and then each deciding to write a few of their own characters in that universe. When one author focuses on their main characters, the side ones can feel left in the dust, or not fleshed out. The DSMP is just “every character can write their own story”, which takes a lot of the strain from the “main writers”. But the general thing of “just friends hanging out” would be taken away from it. We’re being serious here, why would we change the tone so quick?

With all of that in mind… I kinda wanna make some predictions? And I don’t know if they’re correct, but it’s fun to theorize. See?

1. L’manburg will die.

And not just because Techno has 54 withers. The country is cursed – it definitely is. There is little sentimental value that can be felt for a few flimsy stilts built on top of a crater. It might go out in a blaze of glory, with the withers (Is history repeating itself an interesting enough plot point to recycle a whole arc?), but it might just be forgotten. Yeah there have been some angsty headcanons about how “no one cares about L’manburg anymore, save for two people” and it just gets abandoned, but how about it just becoming irrelevant?

This all comes back to Dream, it always does! His want, need for the server to be “one happy family again”, it just means one thing. He wants the server to return to the peaceful anarchy that it was before L’manburg. No rulers, no factions, no nothing.

That’s never going to happen.

Try as he might, Dream cannot affect that change that L’manburg did to the server. The introduction of a faction, one that can exist without the interference of a higher power – why do you think so many factions have sprouted up since? And it’s not even serious factions a lot of the time, it’s just a few friends deciding to build their bases on a plot of land that they claim is a nation now. L’manburg has changed the mindset of these people, now an alliance with somebody is a political move. An alliance doesn’t exist if it doesn’t have a faction, and that faction can remain neutral for only so long.

Basically, L’manburg introduced the factions mod into the server.

And the fact that every faction now has enough relevance to hold weight in a war also means that every nation on the server is doomed to follow the downfall of L’manburg. Eventually, they will get into a fight they can’t win, go up against the wrong people, anger someone they shouldn’t have. All factions will either be destroyed, or lose relevance, until their creators, residents and such just… move on.

(And really you can go into meta and talk about real governments and compare them, but it’s far more simple than that. The server isn’t built for peace, it isn’t meant to be a relaxing place where you can just vibe, it may have been made for a few friends to play Minecraft together, but it has turned into An Author’s Curse. The curse that follows any kind of story being told – the fact that peace is boring. People watched the first streams of the DSMP because they liked the ccs, and that’s valid. But how many more people tuned in to watch the war streams because there was PLOT and there was CHAOS and there WASN’T CALM PEACE ANYMORE – that’s the curse of every writer. That you can write about someone just living their life drama-free, you can make interesting peace with characters or circumstances, but it’s always leading to one inevitable conclusion – war, drama, because people read that. And at this point, it’s just a predictable outcome. No matter how much you say that you are retired, that you’re done with violence (Technoblade), something will happen that will prove to you that you believed in people too much. No matter how “neutral” you may be in the matter, no matter how much you claim that you have no allegiance (Philza), you will be forced to pick one, because out of all the bad things, you pick the least worst one, the most appealing to you, the one that can benefit your want of revenge.

And I can go on, but this is far too deep for one simple reason – The Author’s Curse is so prevalent here because THERE ARE ABSOLUTELY NO STAKES. It’s a video game – you die? You respawn. Something gets destroyed? You can just rebuild. Sure, you’ll want to kill the person who did wrong to you, but whatever they did wrong can just be replaced, remade, recreated. So why not have wars? Why not cause massive amounts of destruction “for the plot”?

It’s literally a playground. How all authors have their little playground with their characters that they meticulously plan out, the DSMP is that playground for all of these people.

And it’s fun! Sure! I like it! I’m just really skeptical whenever someone in character says that they “just want peace”, “are retired”, “swear off violence”, “are building just a little city for themselves”. Because you can do that, nothing wrong. But eventually, no matter how much you distance yourself from all of the chaos happening, all of the wars, you will return.

Because it is just much more fun.

It’s the curse. A cursed cycle.

And everyone is in it.)

2. The prison.

I don’t have anything on the prison because I don’t have anything on the book. Yeah I’ve done a whole post where I overanalyze what it could be, but it doesn’t make it any clearer. Whatever it is, it’s made out to be a huge plot point, something that can only be revealed when the prison is finished.

Cursed. The prison’s reason for being constructed is the book, but the book is only relevant when the prison is finished. We can only wait, and theorize, as we do.

(My only theory is that the book is information about another op on the server. Or at least something related to op or creative mode. Dream only fears one thing on this server, and that’s Technoblade, so if his one fear is the most skilled player on the server, what else could give him existential fear?)

3. The SBI.

Again, I don’t have anything! Yeah the reunion seems to be going smoothly, one member at a time, but there is already conflict in their beliefs among each other. And all that’s happened is a vague “maybe one day we’ll strike”.

Is history repeating itself an interesting enough plot point to recycle a whole arc?

Is L’manburg’s destruction AGAIN really necessary to hammer home the idea that no one likes that place anymore?

I don’t know. Whatever happens, no one’s in the right. No one’s in the wrong either. They’re all not good people and that’s that on that.

4. The Clingy Duo.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

That’s all.

(Okay seriously? All of these arcs are connected. You know what happens when everything seems to be connected to one another?

A giant, dramatic final showdown between the two opposing sides.

Cause it’s just Chaos vs L’manburg. Those are the sides. People that want L’manburg to exist and people that want it gone. There are no other sides, there isn’t someone who’s like “Well maybe it can exist if we do this and this” cause no one wants to put in anymore effort into this cursed country. The only people were the clingy duo and now they’re separated and everyone is just leaving and Tommy is on the Chaos side like at this point he doesn’t care about L’manburg he just cares about Tubbo but he has to convince Tubbo to leave L’manburg but will Tubbo be convinced but will Tommy even consider leaving L’manburg and breaking free from its curse AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

Goddamit.)

5. The Egg?

Dunno shit about it. Like the prison – it seems important, but we’re just not being given enough information. Is it a coincidence that the moment Dream commissioned the prison the Egg popped up? Or are the two directly related?

I don’t know. But as long as someone is finding ways to fight the Egg, that’s fantastic. Bad juju indeed.

6. Oh the Butcher Army want to kill Dream!

Hah.

Okay I’ve seen people make the case that the Army is just a bunch of people with trauma repeating the cycle of ab*se that they went through and yes.

Just yes.

And the fact that no one is actually looking at it that way and no one is there to like.. help them or even help them understand that what they are doing is just irrational, even though their reason for doing it and the result they hope to achieve is YES and the only thing that a lot of the people of the server who want peace should try to go for as well, they cannot stand up to Dream on their own. They just can’t, they will get punted into exile. They need allies, and they need powerful ones, people that have also been wronged by Dream and want him gone.

But the cycle continues, and no one knows where it ends.

(Okay but from a writing perspective? Getting rid of Dream is the end goal. It is the be all end all of all conflict, well… most of it, at least most that’s related to the supposed “good side”, or “the side that’s been most victimized”. But from the same perspective, that side is just… no longer. It has proven that is just as bad, if not worse than the final boss. I have to agree that Techno has to pay for his crimes, even though I like him a lot, but Techno did in fact cause insane damage. Yeah L’manburg rebuilt, yeah Wilbur probably caused more – still he isn’t completely free.

But that’s a discussion on morality more than laws.

L’manburg is doomed to die. Dream is doomed to be fought, and probably won against (simply because he has won far too many times already, you know how everyone seems to hate OP characters…). But the Butcher Army is doomed to fail against Dream. So how does that work?

Welp.

Is history repeating itself and interesting enough plot point to recycle a whole arc?

The answer is no.

I’ve repeated that question three times now, and the answer to it is no. No it is not. L’manburg can be destroyed again, and it can be rebuilt again, but the sentimentality that people feel for it will not remain. The cycle of history ends somewhere, and it’s not too far a fetch that it ends here.

So what happens when Technoblade, Philza and Tommy roll up to L’manburg with withers and a destruction wish, only to be met with a bunch of traumatized children with axes and a death wish?

Well, I’ll spare the details, but from a purely writing standpoint…

The two sides team up.

Think about it – The Butcher Army doesn’t care about Technoblade anymore. They’ve seen that Dream is the one pulling the strings, they know that even if they do care about trying to eliminate Technoblade again, they have to get rid of his strongest ally – Dream. But through their anger, they’ve lost their fear. You should fear Dream, he’s a fuckin op. Techno is correct in not wanting to go against him.

But after Tommy? After seeing the Butcher Army at their lowest, screeching about Dream being the villain?

Will Techno finally go past his thinking of “government is evil, always government is source of problem” and realize that Dream has the most evil government in mind for his rule?

I’m still kinda sad that Techno isn’t making the conclusions he should about Dream. But he’s starting to – and really, the SBI-Butcher Army team up is the most logical thing that could happen.

Watch me be completely wrong or miss something and I’ve got ALL of it wrong. I would love that.)

(Also it’s very funny to me that Dream is literally simping for Techno while he’s just here like “Listen bud I would stab you on sight if you didn’t have creative mode”. Dream KNOWS that Techno can and will kill him given the opportunity. Techno knows that that opportunity may never arise.

It’s a weird type of stalemate, to be sure. But goddamn is it interesting.)

Anyway... if you read through all of this... I could bake you a cookie? Thank you! I like to ramble.

#dream smp #gooood its just a block game #ITS JUST A BLOCK GAME #...dammit #anyway #debate me #on everything please

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patchies · 3 years

Text

Shadows

Pairing: Dream x Reader x ???

Summary: An apocalyptic world where creatures of the night roam all around it. Searching for living beings to satisfy their hunger. Vicious creatures they are. It’s said that one person called upon their wrath in revenge. You awake in this place with another human being at your side. No memories whatsoever of the life you’ve had prior to coming here. In search of a way out, and your memories, you stumble upon multiple people with many personalities. Some can’t wait to meet you. If you take it the friendly or hostile way is up to you, but worry not… Nothing can hurt you. Or can it, now?

Warnings: none that I can think of

Word Count: 2.8+k

Author's note: hi, hi, hi! I bring you a new chapter after what... 1 and a half months of not uploading anything? My apologies are probably not enough, but I have been working on chapters, I promise! And, drum roll, please, I might have some art in store for this series. It isn't done, yet, but I'm trying to work on it, guys!

Wattpad link: here

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Chapter 4: Forming Friendship

As the sun starts off the next day, you and Nick depart from your home in search of more resources. He throws in a suggestion that you should spread out, so you could cover more ground, and you agree- not like you have anything else to do for the meantime. Unless you want to be stuck at home playing some card games Nick had found while searching for the paint buckets.

You search the places south, just outside the town. All the buildings look the same to your wondering eyes, nothing valuable piquing your interest that much, so you rather opt for wandering further. Through the greenery until a clearing reveals itself before you.

A beautiful and elegant meadow stretches across the horizon. As if a page was torn from a fairy-tale book, and rightfully so. The only thing missing is a royal castle or fairies' houses. Pollen flies in the air and swirls around you enchantingly and a surge of calmness goes through your being. An accommodation in your body along with the feeling of delight.

The nature has truly taken over most of the world.

It's not like you can complain, really. Colours, textures and elements flow with each other in a beautiful harmony, creating an almost painting-like picture that you can marvel at.

Deep down, you were always a fan of the quietness Mother nature has offered you at times in need. Whenever you felt down, really.

You slightly remember how it helped you with your anxiety, shyness and depression when you used to be socially awkward and unwilling to do something about it. It felt peaceful compared to the continuous pressure many people used to put on you. Not many people were harsh on you, but your social battery could take so much until all you were ready to do was just lie down, put on a playlist of your favourite songs and chill. They denied your want to be left alone when the only thing you needed was space and your own time. Their faces are now blurry images of faces you once used to know, but you don't know if you'll ever get back to your life or how long it might take.

I should throw away my pessimistic thoughts…

That was a part of the old you, though. You'd like to think that you're better now, but your pessimism has stayed with you nonetheless. It's about time you started working on it and who knows? You might get to form plenty friendships here who will be willing to help you.

With a shake of your messy hair, you focus back to the beauty in front of you, pushing the vines away and walking towards the flowery meadow.

Yellow grains contrast gorgeously with the sparse greenery the field has to offer here and there.

You bent down and pluck one of the many Dahlias near your feet, putting the pistil close to your nose.

Sniff, sniff, sniff

The flower alone doesn't smell alluring or sweet, like anything. The stem and leaves, on another note, smell bitter with a slight flowery undertone. It strikes a sense of serenity in you as you inspect the innocent white petals be carried away from you by the wind, flying off to the clear sky to join the fine powdery substance.

You let go of the stem and watch it be snatched, following its trace until it falls between the loads of flowers.

Just then, a gentler breeze begins and takes a handful of leaves of the ground, aiming just below a small hill to your left as if it had a mind of its own. You realize that it might actually do as it points you to a lone building sitting at the base, overflown with the finest flora you've ever faced.

A mere bookshop from what you can see from the distance. The walls are built from brick and it still seems in a decent shape, except the nature, but that gives it a special charm. A great place to get away from all this chaotic and death-threating events for even a while.

You carefully move through the grass and blossoms, trekking your way up to it.

• • •

Meanwhile, somewhere far away from you, a deer curiously, yet cautiously, examines you from a cliffside looking over the whole meadow. Its doe eyes flick from you to a small fawn by its side.

It huffs, shakes its head and turns, departing into the forest.

• • •

The inside is wondrous, despite your expectations of it being completely trashed.

Bookshelves line the walls and are all filed with all styles of literature. Slightly used, torn and unkept. It gives you an idea how no one surely visits this place. The place looks great, so it doesn't make much sense to you. You cannot help but be a little happy over the fact at that despite the telling signs of its abandonment.

Your hand automatically lifts up to slide over the spines of the books, keeping your touch light as you advance further inside. The rough, yet extremely soothing, texture extracts a small smile from you and you close your eyes. You begin dragging your other appendage across the parallel shelf until a thud makes you shoot your eyes open in alert, whipping your head behind you, but finding nothing out of ordinary.

With your now unsure footsteps, you slowly walk to the end of the aisle in front of you, peeking around the corner.

You catch sight of a short boy sitting in front of a shelf, or rather a stand, with comic books. He's sat down near the middle where the wooden stand is, flipping through each comic with haste.

A messy brown nest of hair sits atop his head while a flower crown with some scarce plastic bees thrown in reasts atop and a long green scarf messily wrapped around his neck. It strangely compliments his look that is styled with green, golden and black and despite the apocalyptic surroundings and lack of proper resources, you're surprised he's styled it very prettily.

A black stylish coat with golden accents is thrown on the floor near him along with his messenger bag, its contents peeking out. Especially the thick book with a pack of pencils. You wonder what the book contains, but maybe you'll get a chance to see it sometime.

You cautiously and carefully lean against a counter near you, observing the young boy as he shuffles through numerous comics. He huffs out a long sigh, throwing another book aside. It comes tumbling down back to him due to the amount he has already piled on top of each other. His nimble fingers pick up another one, swiping through it with precision.

He mumbles something quietly, softly putting the comic onto another pile beside him that is neat compared to the other one.

This demeanour continues for a long minute, basically choosing a book in a ratio that one is kept and twelve are thrown away. He never seems too happy with his decision, frowning at some in sadness despite having to give up on them. You don't understand why he doesn't put them onto the obvious piles of his favourites, but you stand in your place.

Having enough of watching, you whistle too loudly to get his attention.

Only to see the guy jump up in the air and slip on a paper he has previously abandoned on the ground. He pointlessly flails his arms around until his elbow hits the ground first, followed by his hip and the rest of his body.

You wince.

As if caught in the headlights, he spins his head to you. The previously left out paper now present on his head. You see confusion, fear and surprise fight against who will persevere on his face, so you lower your shoulders back down and give him an awkward smile, “Uh, sorry?”

He unsurely stumbles to his feet and dusts his clothes off, tightening the scarf around his neck with tense movement. His eyes widen and he makes a quick, though awkward, show of pulling out a stick?

He fumbles around with it for a bit before it extends into a normal looking sword, posing heroically, “I'll- uh, stab you! Yeah! I'll use this sword to stab you.”

You quirk an eyebrow at his choice of words, and at the adorable stutter he did, “Do you even know how to wield a sword?”

“Of course, I do! Wait- do I? No, no, no, you're just trying to make me look silly. I do know-”

Cue an uncoordinated swing of the sharpened weapon at his own leg, but at least his reaction time seems to be fast and he slides his foot out of harm's way just in time. One he created, and he watches as the sword penetrates the wooden boards and he struggles to pull it out.

His action makes you doubt his abilities further and a you can't help the small giggle that escapes you, raising your arms in mock defence when he sends you a defensive glare, “You- you cannot be serious. Quit the child's play, I'm not here to hurt you.”

He stays quiet, still pulling on the handle of the sword with unfortunate outcomes. It slips out of his fists multiple times and he sighs before flopping down onto the floor, defeated, “I guess I really don't know.”

You choose not to retort any sassy comeback to his gloomy self, rather analysing his figure and approaching the weapon. Arms still held above your head to show you don't plan on attacking, your features soft, “Mind me getting the weapon for you? I won't use it against you, I promise.”

“Go ahead,” he gives you an absent wave of his hand and only stares as you grip the handle.

At first, you tug and nothing happens, so you try holding it at a specific place and are delighted when you feel a small button press against your palm, giving it one more tug along with a squeeze of the switch.

An imaginary lightbulb blinks above his head as he sees the sword retract from the ground and you're left gripping the stick in your hand, “See? It isn't as hard, is it now?”

“I admit, you're right,” he accepts the handle from your outstretched hand, storing it into his hoodie pocket.

No wonder you didn't notice it before. He's had it hidden there and he had to have pulled it out when you whistled. Although you personally wouldn't own a weapon like that, it probably comes in handy for situations like these. You aren't sure if it'd be beneficial in an actual fight against a stronger and better crafted weapon, though.

A switchblade would do a better job, surely. From what you've seen, they're a lighter object, more portable and friendlier to beginners. Might even suit his style of fighting better, even if you haven't seen it in action yet, to be truthful, “I do believe I'm right.”

“I would beat you if I had my hatchet!”

You chuckle, “Well, we can always engage in hand-to-hand combat, if you're that confident in getting me. Why use weapons?”

His eyes widen and all his courage dissipates, waving his hands crazily and shaking his head, “When you say it like that, I'll pass you on that offer, thank you. Why didn't you attack me, by the way? Oh, and also, I'm Tubbo, since we seem to be okay with each other.”

Refraining from telling him your name back, you swing your arm at his head and watch him yelp, shut his eyes and flinch from you in humorous satisfaction. You stop it inches from his face, lowering it and stepping away from him, “You should've seen your face, Mr. Tubbo. I'd say we are okay, but I had to pull that on you and to answer your question of my peace towards you… You just seemed harmless.”

He stands up and looks at you in feign anger, jabbing an accusing finger into your chest “You're so cruel, what? I can't trust you now.”

Tubbo crosses his arms, turning away from you. You turn away from him and spot his collection of comics. His previous actions coming to the forefront of your mind, “Hey, why were you browsing through so many comics?”

“I was looking for something,” he shrugs, walking past you and picking up quite a big amount of comic books. He catches the incredulous glance you give the items in his hands and nods his head at them, “They aren't for me.”

“You looked quite sad when you couldn't grab one for yourself, why can't you?”

He's surprised you picked up on that, but he just shrugs, “I would. If my bag allowed me to carry so much at once and I just want to surprise my friends.”

You give a small 'aww', making his ears flush pink and cower away, “I could help you carry them. Where is your camp?”

“I don't think I should be revealing that to strangers, but I've never been the smartest with decisions and I'm sure you'd notice either way,” Tubbo stuffs the books inside his bag, barely closing it, “I could just act like I abducted you.”

“Won't that be suspicious? You actually seem like a person who's too nice to do that.”

The bee boy lightly grins at that while putting his coat on, throwing the messenger bag on his shoulder, “I'm bad at acting, too, so they'd surely notice.”

“Are any of them keeping guard on this place, by the way?”

“No,” his answer is straight-forward, without any hesitation, “It might be very shocking, but none of my friends know about this place. Although I visit quite often than not. It gets quite harsh out there, y'know?”

You hum, choosing to drop the subject and return back to an airier topic, “Which ones do you like?”

Tubbo's quick to light up at the change, dropping to his knees and shuffling through the messy mountain of comics once again. He carelessly throws ten of them at you in happiness and leaves you grasping them to your chest. You laugh at his enthusiasm, reading off few of the titles and shaking your head as he keeps on searching for more.

This was probably a crazy idea, but whatever. Tubbo seems like an adorable person to be around.

Not long after you get ready to leave, keeping the conversation loose and it's almost effortless how you get along. The themes get intertwined between you with ease, pointing to some aspects around you if you want to make a point.

He is a strange guy to get a hold of, but you can say that you like how easy-going talking is with him. The male has visibly suffered some of his own stuff, but he still has this bubbly personality around him that you can't wrap your mind around. Though, you enjoy that little perk he has.

At one point, you lose sight of the boy, looking around you in confusion only to have him appear behind you and throw a freshly made flower crown on top of your head. The question of where he got it from is lost to his ears as he babbles on how he needs to teach you the crafting of one, so you could be 'flower crown buddies'. His own words. Your reaction is to bump your shoulder with his, joking how he is too goofy for you to even want to learn. A look of betrayal is thrown at you and you chuckle.

He proceeds to skip at certain intervals during your trek through the forest, too, visibly being excited to earn a new friend who is close to his wave-length. You don't even notice when you get close, having too much fun getting to know each other and goof around, but Tubbo increasingly slows his steps near an old-looking house.

He turns to you, “Well, this is my stop. I shouldn't take you further or I'll get spanked for not listening to my peers.”

“Uh, I won't respond to that, though I hope everything's alright back at your base. You shouldn't go through child abuse anywhere,” you awkwardly scratch at your neck, handing him the comic books meant for him.

Tubbo light-heartedly laughs at your perplexed self, a jokester-like glint appearing in his eyes as he accepts the papers, “I hope we can meet again.”

“I do, too, and hey. The library can be our place, if you're comfortable enough to call it that,” you heartily smile at him, ruffling his hair and receiving a pouty 'hey! my hair, not yours!'.

He shakes his head to fix your doings, throwing a lop-sided grin, “I can allow that.”

“Well, I should go,” you look up to the sky, seeing the sun brightly shining more to the west side now. It shouldn't be that long before you'll have to get ready for the night and report your findings with Nick. Not like you have much to say to him, but there are some things worth mentioning to him, “I have a friend possibly waiting for me already. It was incredible meeting you, Tubbo!”

“Likewise.”

#technoblade #dream #sapnap #apocalypse au #reader insert #mcyt x reader #mcyt #techno #dream team #dream x reader #dreamwastaken #l'manburg #shadows #??? x reader

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silverfishy · 3 years

Text

Antivan Sip-Sip

Fandom: Dragon Age Pairing: Zevran/Dorian Rating: T

Notes: My first attempt at friday night @dadrunkwriting! Thanks @monsterthalia for the suggestion I use it to get through writer’s block! Also at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33804118

The air was heady with incense, sweet and smoky. Around the delicate filigree’d chandeliers floated winking sparks of magelight like drifting fireflies, and every corner one looked upon held a beautiful young body, alluringly clad in translucent silks, shimmering as they twisted and swayed.

Dorian rather thought it was a bit overdone.

He took another draught from the fluted crystal-cut glass and hid a grimace at the bitter undertaste – a necessary side effect of the evening’s catch-all antidote swirling through what had been a very fine Rowan’s Rose. Whatever might be said of Magister Tiberius’ extra-curricular activities, his wine cellar was without reproach.

Secluded in a corner, Dorian’s heartbeat had almost entirely returned to its normal rate when the host himself approached, clapping him on the shoulder with weight enough that he might have buckled had his breeding not been so impeccable, and the wall at his back.

“There you are, young Pavus! We were beginning to despair of seeing you tonight. Where have you been, hmm?”

Digging through the forbidden volumes of his library was unlikely to be an answer the man appreciated. “Merely appreciating the delights of your household, Magister.” His accompanying bow was short, meticulous, striking just the right notes of flattery to put an indulgent smile on Tiberius’ face.

“I bet you were. Ah, to be young again! I recall when your father and I were just the same, sneaking off into dark corners with a comely thing at every chance we got.” It was difficult and somewhat horrifying to imagine the elder Pavus in flagrante delicio, but Dorian was loathe to correct such a convenient assumption, and forced a laugh instead. “How is Halward, anyway?”

"Very well - He was particularly satisfied by the Magesterium’s verdict on the new ritual binding laws. Your work, I understand?”

Pleasure settled on the Magister’s features like a bird of prey in its roost – the law’s passage had been then unofficial reason for the party. “Indeed. A most satisfactory outcome. Well, I shan’t keep you; in fact-” He clicked his fingers and a slave appeared at his elbow, balancing a tray of drinks. “I insist you thoroughly enjoy yourself at my expense.”

The lascivious way his eyes lingered on Dorian as he drawled the word thoroughly made him feel faintly unclean, and left him in no doubt as to whether the Magister had heard the rumours. The ones concerning the Pavus scion’s proclivities, as Halward so distastefully put it.

He glanced at the creature who’d been offered to him as thoughtlessly as the slave himself presented the liquor. An elf, of course – and beautiful, as all Tiberius’ things were; golden blond and bronzed, lithe muscle and catlike grace, more like a dancer or a soldier than a serving boy. Dorian wondered, fleeting, what colour the elf’s eyes were behind the respectfully lowered gaze, had a brief image of taking the boy’s chin and lifting his face to see.

Sighing, Dorian accepted the proffered drink, and waved a dismissive hand when the elf lingered. “You needn’t stay – I'm not so crass as to bed the unwilling.” He took a long draught – a marvellous Sun Blonde Vint, smooth and strong, and wasn’t that the perfect metaphor for the elven treat laid out before him? The liquor sparkled tauntingly. “To tell the truth, I’m only here to establish an alibi.”

A raised brow, liquor-gold eyes raised disrespectfully to his own. “What a coincidence.” Honey-mead come to life. But the voice that had spoken was decidedly not Tevinter, nor the gaze like any slave Dorian had before met.

“You-” Surprise startled the word out of him before he was interrupted by a hand which yanked him further into shadow behind a gilded curtain, and the shock of that, of being so manhandled by a slave, quite left him speechless as the intriguing accent rolled over him.

“But I would hardly describe myself as unwilling, Magister.”

Dorian’s mind was racing – a spy? A runaway? One of Tiberius’ mad games? He could shout – Maker, he could light the bastard on fire – but they were sheltered behind the drapery, and all it would take was one inquisitive guest to draw back the curtain and their compromising position would be revealed. Dorian cursed the years of illicit trysts that had turned danger into a spice which made his cock sit up and pay attention. A pressure at his hip made him roll his eyes. “Why mysterious stranger,” he drawled. “Is that a knife in your pocket or are you just happy to-”

“It’s a knife.” That treacherous whisper against his ear, and Dorian’s heart rate spiked, blood pounding and already tight trousers becoming nigh-on painful as the distinctive cold bite of metal met the flesh at his hip. “Why Magister,” The elf drawled. “Is that a staff in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”

“You do know,” Dorian murmured, fighting to keep his breathing steady, his voice unaffected. “That I could fry you from the inside out with lightning?”

“Perhaps.” The elf sounded nonchalant at the prospect. “But I am extremely fast. What if in my convulsions I...slipped?” He pressed the knife in closer, over the exact place Dorian had seen Magister Alexius draw forth a kidney from a corpse. Maker’s balls.

“What do you want?” Impressively casual, he thought.

“Silence.” The elf murmured. “Well, in the matter of my not quite being what you expected. In other matters...” He trailed off, and Dorian swallowed as the false slave pressed up against him and he felt a second ‘knife’, just as hard and no less dangerous to his sanity.

“Perhaps we ought to go and establish our alibis, ah, thoroughly.”

“An excellent idea, Magister.” He could hear the grin in that purr. “I hear Master Tiberius keeps a bottle of Golden Scythe in his desk drawer.”

“How interesting, I heard it was Antivan Sip-Sip.” Dorian raised a brow, footing somewhat regained now he was on steadier ground. “Perhaps you’re familiar?”

“Care to wager? Whoever wins, tops?” There was less menace in those rolling vowels now, but no less swagger, and Dorian felt a thrill as a genuine chuckle burst from his lips.

“You have a deal.”

The assassin stepped back, golden eyes never leaving his, and any thought of revealing the elf’s deception died a quick death as the sultry gaze was joined by a molten smile, a bow which put the man’s mouth tantalisingly close to Dorian’s waist. “Lead the way, Magister.”

“I’m not actually a Magister, you know.” Dorian muttered as they emerged, pushing past another slave who looked at them with wide eyes as they slipped out into the corridor.

“And I’m not actually a slave.” The elf rolled his eyes. “What of it? Did you want me to call your name out in passion, little Magister?”

“It’s Dorian.” He pushed the man into an alcove, feeling the muscles under the liveried tunic tense and the expected bite of the knife at his gut but paying it no more heed than the thrill it sent up his spine as he leant forward to whisper in a pointed ear. “And yes.”

The elf grunted a little, but there was a breath in it that seemed to be torn unwilling from his throat, a twitch in his breeches Dorian felt against his leg. “Perhaps it is you who will be calling out, hmm?”

Dorian ran his tongue along the delicate skin under his mouth, trying to recall what he’d done last time he’d taken an elf to bed, before he’d realised a slave’s consent meant nothing. His partner now was certainly no slave, the Dalish marks on his skin revealed as Dorian brushed powder away with a hand to his cheek. “And what name should I call?”

“Zevran of Antiva City.” The elf nodded a little mocking bow, and then did something complex with his hands and twisted so that Dorian was the one slammed against the wall, breath knocked out of him and off balance. “At your service.”

“Well, Zevran of Antiva City.” Dorian breathed. “Will you be staying in Tevinter long?”

“Hours.” The smirk played about Zevran’s mouth, and Dorian couldn’t take his eyes off it. “All night, if necessary.”

“Maker.” Dorian groaned.

“And then, once my business is concluded,” A hot, hard press against his thigh left no doubt as to exactly what business he meant. “I will be gone with the dawn.”

A pang of disappointment that Dorian quashed ruthlessly, smothered with determination. “We’d better get started on that Golden Scythe, then.”

“I thought it was Antivan Sip-Sip?”

“Ah, no, that I have right here.” Dorian murmured, licking his lips like a man parched, very much enjoying the way Zevran’s eyes seemed drawn to the motion, enjoyed the heat in the gaze.

“Drink, then.” Zevran murmured, breath close, and as he captured Dorian’s mouth the taste was all gold, liquor-sweet and sharp and heady.

Regret might come in the morning, but he’d never shied away from getting drunk.

#da drunk writing circle #zevran x dorian #zevran/dorian #monsterthalia

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loveydoveyfrog · 4 years

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fallingforyou pt.3

Sorry for not updating for a while but also I don’t think anyone is really reading this. If you are ily, let me know if I should keep going.

If you spot any mistakes or ways in which I make this non inclusive please lmk!!

- - - - - -

Pairing: Atsumu Miya x Reader Words: 3.6k Warnings: None that i’m aware of Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

It was Friday afternoon. For the past two days you’ve had the invitation you received on Wednesday replaying in your head. Sure, you didn’t have any specific details yet, but the plan was in motion, wasn’t it? You smiled at the prospect as you scanned the library shelves for a specific tome. The library was pleasantly quiet today. Your lessons were done for the day, but you stopped by the library for a book which wasn’t available online, much to your dismay. A46, A46, A46… you repeated to yourself, searching for the matching label on your desired book. You spotted it with a satisfied ah ha! And plucked it from the collection. Promptly checking out the book, you headed out to the small foyer preceding the library. Approaching the door, you spotted a familiar pair.

Bokuto was right by the door, eagerly discussing some topic with an equally ecstatic boy with a head full of mad ginger hair. The boy was extremely animated, gesticulating wildly as he rambled on about something. In comparison to this bundle of energy, Bokuto seemed tame, though more often than not, his intensity matched his, resulting in chaos. This chaos, however, was cut short when you caught Bokuto’s attention with a friendly wave as you passed the pair. His eyes brightened and stepped towards you, a thrilled grin on his face.

“Y/n! Hey!” he greeted you as if you were lifelong friends. You tried to match his enthusiasm with your hello, though that was hard to achieve on a slow Friday afternoon. Bokuto noticed his friend gawking at you upon hearing your name, much like he must have done when he first realised who you were. You were not oblivious to his stare either, offering him a small wave accompanied with a quiet hi.

“Ah, this is Hinata, he’s on the volleyball team too,” Bokuto explained. The name rang a bell; you recalled his name being mentioned last Wednesday. You also remembered seeing him in the distance on the Monday morning when you first met Bokuto. You gave him a warm smile and extended your hand.

“Nice to meet you,” you said, happy to be getting familiar with the rest of the team. Hinata returned your smile tenfold, shaking your hand with a new found charge of energy.

“He was right! You are pretty!” he said bluntly, stars in his eyes. You let out a surprised laugh and slipped your hand out of his, your eyes flicking between Hinata and Bokuto for any further explanation. You assumed ‘He’ referred to Atsumu, but Bokuto only scratched his neck with an awkward chuckle, knowing that should they let anything else slip, Atsumu would tear them to shreds. Well at least you had one thing confirmed, though you didn’t know how much credibility could be pinned to a statement like that. This should have been an obvious sign to you, but your thought process was blocked with doubt and denial. Yet, you couldn’t ignore the small flame of hope kindled in the pit of your chest.

“You should come to one of our games!” the ginger quipped, his excitement still bubbling. This lit a spark in Bokuto’s eyes.

“Oh yeah! Did Atsumu tell you any dates?” he inquired. You shook your head in response.

“No, I haven’t seen him since Wednesday,” you said.

“We have a friendly game with our county rivals next Monday!” Hinata explained cheerfully. You nodded as if you understood what that meant; the words ‘friendly’ and ‘rivals’ didn’t make any sense to you when paired. Before Bokuto could follow up with any info, he felt a chilling presence behind him. Whipping around he saw the masked boy outside the window giving the group a stern glare. As if wordlessly communicating with the two boys, the pair spun around to face you apologetically.

“Sorry, y/n, we gotta go now,” explained Bokuto, dragging Hinata to the door, “see you on Monday?” he asked with an expectant look. You nodded and waved them goodbye, giving the mysterious masked boy a nervous glance. Bokuto saw your unease and laughed loudly. “That’s Sakusa by the way,” he said as he opened the door to step out into the cold Mid October air. The now named boy gave you a single nod and turned to walk away when he was sure the exuberant pair was following him to practice. You gave the group another wave goodbye as they walked past the window, Hinata bouncing along and returning your wave.

Once they left your field of vision, you swiftly took out your phone to update your friend on the upcoming event, obviously including them in the plan. You couldn’t just go alone, you’d probably explode from the stress. Though who in their right mind gets stressed out about watching a volleyball game? You could already feel your stomach turning with anticipation. Your friend replied almost immediately. You smiled and tucked your phone away, as you’d much rather discuss this face to face. And so, you headed to your shared dorm. For the first time, you wanted to skip the weekend entirely.

Thankfully, the weekend seemed to zip past fast for you. Whilst your head was swimming in excitement, your stomach twisted with anxiety. You sat in your Monday morning class, hyper aware of the fact that the game was some time today, but you had no clue what time it was. Heck, you didn’t even know WHERE it was. You obviously haven’t seen Atsumu, or anyone else from the team for that matter, during the weekend, so you were completely lost as to where you were meant to go. Atsumu’s absence was something else your mind also stuck to; you haven’t seen or heard from him since Wednesday, did he even know you were coming today? What if he didn’t even want you there? As your mind was preoccupied with skipping over the possible outcomes that could play out today, you barely paid attention to the class for a second week in a row. You were once again torn out of your thoughts by your prodding friend, signalling that the class was over.

You stepped outside your block, your eyes scanning the area for Atsumu, or even Bokuto, but you were left disappointed. Your friend watched you deflate.

“Maybe we shouldn’t go…” you sighed, increasingly unsure about going to the match. Your friend gasped, as if betrayed.

“No way, y/n! We’re going, I don’t care what you say. I’ll drag you there myself if I have to,” they promised. You looked at them, clearly feeling defeated.

“I don’t even know where it is. Or when it is. What if-” you began, only to be cut off by your friend’s shushing finger.

“Stop. I bet it’s in the sports hall, where else would it be?” they explained. They sighed at your clueless expression. “It’s down the path behind our dorms. You know, the path to the left of the parking lot?” You blinked. Was it? You tried following the path in your mind, but it led you nowhere. You shrugged and set off in the direction of your dorms, not in the mood to stop by the cafe or library today.

“Well either way, I don’t know what time to go,” you started again. “And I am not going to sit outside the hall all day like a freak,” you said before your friend could even suggest the idea.

“I’m sure it’s online or something,” they offered. You hummed in response, taking out your phone to look anywhere that might give you the answer. As you scrolled, you didn’t look where you were going, and your friend didn’t give you any warning as you slammed into something solid and still, as if they placed themselves in your path deliberately (he did). You blinked up to look at your obstacle only to be met with a set of familiar, teasing eyes.

“Ya gotta be more careful, Pumpkin,” he playfully advised, shaking his head with a click of his tongue. Your face burned with embarrassment and muttered out a bashful sorry. He laughed at the state you were in. He’d love to stick around to tease you some more, but he had to head to a meeting with his personal tutor. He turned to your amused friend who had a similar, mischievous glint in their eyes. They were definitely on the same brain waves. “Ya really gotta start keeping an eye on them! They could get seriously hurt one day!” He mockingly codesended your friend with his hands on his hips, knowing perfectly well that they didn’t warn you on purpose. They held back a laugh at this.

“Of course, it won’t happen again!” they returned with a similar, sarcastic tone, implying that it most definitely will happen again, even if they have to make it happen themselves. Atsumu seemed satisfied with this response and turned to leave, but not before locking eyes with you again.

“I’ll see ya later today, yeah?” he started walking away, taking your answer for granted. “Come at 7:30, ok?” he said, but it sounded more like a command than a question. He smiled when you confirmed with a nod, and with that, he was gone. Well, that answered a few things. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself.

In no less than 3 minutes, you were regretting your decision to not bring a jacket. You rubbed your forearms in an attempt to warm up, thanking the heavens that you were at least half way down the path already. You were too stubborn to turn around to get something warmer than your button up sweater, and besides, it was 7:25 already. Your friend seemed significantly cosier than you in their thick black crewneck. You told yourself that the sports hall was right behind your dorm block and you wouldn’t need it seeing as it was a quick walk away. Besides, you didn’t want to deal with the hassle of a large coat later on. Whilst, yes, you could see the lights from the sports hall already and you were nearly there, you couldn’t ignore the fact that the chill had a sharp bite tonight.

You heard the squeaks of sneakers and random shouts as you heard the teams inside warming up for their upcoming game. You and your friend peered inside, blinking against the bright lights to look at the boys inside. The tone of the room didn’t appear to be as tense as you would have expected it to be; some boys were doing random warm ups and some even chatted casually with members of the opposite team. Hinata did say it would be a friendly game after all, so perhaps you shouldn’t be surprised. Little did you know how the atmosphere would shift once the first set was in motion. You quickly recognised Bokuto and Hinata, the pair absolutely buzzing with energy and excitement doing quick training exercises. Atsumu sensed your presence the second you appeared at the open door, but he let your eyes find him before his gaze drifted to catch your full attention. He gave you a big smile and happy wave. You wanted to wish him good luck, though you remembered that in theatre that superstitiously meant bad luck. Not knowing if the same rule applied to sport, you settled on a small wave in return. Not wanting to distract him or get him out of the zone, you followed your friend to find a seat.

Soon enough the game began and you found yourself in the front row on the upper level of the bleachers. Despite it only being a friendly match, you were surprised by how many people from both universities attended the game. Atsumu was the first to serve, and you paid extra attention to stay silent, Sakusa’s warning still ringing clearly in your mind. The ball flew cleanly over the net and you let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding. To be perfectly honest, you didn’t know much about the game, and it didn’t occur to you to maybe learn the rules beforehand. As a result you didn’t fully understand the etiquette either; you weren’t sure when to cheer and when to stay silent. You knew that some games required silence, such as golf or tennis, whilst others encouraged a constant roar of applause. You mimicked the general reactions of the rest of the crowd, and sooner or later you caught onto the general rhythm, even if your reactions were slightly subdued. Not to mention, everything was going so fast it was hard to track what was going on. At times, a play seemed to end in the blink of an eye.

You tracked Atsumu the best you could despite the almost overwhelming speed of the game. You noticed how much his demeanour changed whenever he got particularly invested. Even at this distance you could swear his eyes got darker, the light catching a dangerous glint whenever he saw the perfect opportunity to set up a winning spike. This tone would occasionally wash away when exchanging playful comments with his team mates, but you could tell by his body language how easily he shifted back into that dark, competitive mode. As you watched him, you couldn’t imagine being in his shoes. How could he play so well when he was being watched by so many people? You’d probably trip over your own legs from the pressure, and this wasn’t even a super important game. Unbeknownst to you, Atsumu felt a new kind of thrill knowing you were watching him, like a shock of electricity jolted through his whole system as he was ever aware of your presence and watching eyes. Atsumu was beyond ecstatic to see your passion and energy when you got into the pace of the game, feeling every bit of encouragement spur him on. This effect seemed to seep through to the rest of the team, particularly Bokuto and Hinata. After securing the first set, he easily found you in the crowd, giving you an excited wave, almost as if seeking your approval. You laughed gleefully and gave him a round of applause. You were certain your praise was drowned out by the rest of the audience, but to Atsumu, your cheers rang out like a blessing. Little did you know, a handful of jealous and sharp glares were scattered among the crowd, all trained on you and the attention you were receiving.

By the end of the game, you and your friend have gotten more than invested in the match, standing up to cheer and clap whenever your team scored a point. The game was tough but your team pulled through the final set with a slamming victory. The boys cried out, basking in their winning glow. Bokuto, Atsumu and Hinata exchanged multiple high fives and what appeared to be a special victorious handshake, meanwhile you and your friend held each other as you jumped and cheered for your team. Atsumu’s sparkling eyes found yours, his smile somehow even wider despite his already ecstatic state. He gave you a quick wave and held up one finger, as if asking you to wait before dashing into the changing rooms with the rest of the team. You barely had the time to register his request, but your brain clicked in time before he disappeared.

You waited by the open doors, arms wrapped around yourself, shivering from the cold, biting wind. Though the excitement and rush of the game had kept you warm during the match, that heat was quickly dissipating as you stood in the open doors. Outside a small gathering of girls also waited, though at a distance, obnoxiously squealing about something you didn’t bother to catch. Your friend had left you alone, claiming they had a last minute assignment due that they completely forgot about. You wondered what assignment that might be, since you both took almost identical classes. Atsumu rushed out soon enough, pulling you out of your thoughts. He spotted you immediately and briskly walked over with an excited smile. You noticed his hair was still damp from the shower.

“So?” He asked expectantly, “whatcha think?” He looked like a child ready for praise. His energy seeped into you, your smile blazing as you recalled that buzz of adrenaline you felt no less than a few minutes ago.

“It was SO COOL!” you expressed clenching your fists, eyes dazzled. “You were so fast!” Atsumu had a proud grin on his face. He knew he was good, but your words of affirmation were like honey. “I must admit, I didn’t quite understand what was going on, and everything was so fast that it was a bit hard to follow, but I got the hang of it! I think…” your confidence dwindled slightly by the time you got to the end of your statement. Atsumu blinked, then let out a laugh.

“Of course, I shoulda explained the rules to ya first,” he said, rubbing the back of his head, acting as if he hadn’t hoped you’d be at least a bit confused. “If ya still don’t get anything I can explain later,” he offered.

Later. That word seemed to hang in the air. You’d definitely like to see him later, no matter the circumstance. You nodded eagerly.

“Yes please,” you replied.

The pair of you were oblivious to the fact that the rest of the team had emerged from the changing rooms. Bokuto and Hintata were witness to the scene, and they almost yelled out words of encouragement before the captain bonked them on the heads, keeping them quiet before they said anything stupid and scared you off; you looked like an enamoured deer in the headlights. The captain eyed the pair. He was aware of Atsumu’s improved performance today; he didn’t seem as distracted and mouthy, and hit every serve perfectly, except for the one which hit the net, but still dropped into the opposing court. Could you be the reason?

Atsumu took in your appearance almost tenderly. He noticed you were dressed in varsity colours. So cute, he thought to himself. Whilst doing so, he also noticed you were shivering. Without thinking, he took off his team jacket and extended it to you. He did it so fast he almost surprised himself, the smallest dusting of a blush present on his cheeks. Both of you blinked at each other, however yours was more due to confusion.

“Ya look cold,” he said uncharacteristically bluntly. He quickly recomposed himself and carried on. “Can’t have ya getting sick now, can we?” he explained. You only continued to look from the offered jacket to his seemingly calm eyes.

“Are you sure? But what if you get sick? That’ll be way worse!” you babbled, “and your hair is still wet!” you continued, almost reaching out to confirm your statement. Atsumu only looked entertained by your blushing face and stream of excuses.

“I’m fine, really, I’m still feeling hot from the game,” he lied expertly. You looked at him for a few more uncertain seconds. By your judgement, he seemed sincere.

“If you say so,” you said, reluctantly taking the jacket. His eyes brightened immediately. You shrugged it on; it was too big for you, obviously, the sleeves ending just at your fingertips. The sight made Atsumu’s heart flutter in a new kind of way. So warm… you had to stop yourself from sighing in comfort, finally protected from the relentless cold. You were enveloped in a cool yet surprisingly floral scent. Must be his body wash… You blushed at the thought, snapping yourself out of it. “Thank you,” you stuttered out in your dazzled state.

“No problem,” he replied, very pleased that his spontaneous decision paid off.

“When do you want it back?” you questioned, playing with the ends of the sleeves absentmindedly.

“Hmm,” he hummed, “how about you come by here on Thursday? I can teach you some stuff whilst we’re at it,” he suggested. You nodded in agreement, happy with the plan. Before you could respond, the coach called Atsumu with an impatient tone of voice. Atsumu looked at you with an apologetic smile.

“So Thursday?” he asked for confirmation.

“Thursday.” you agreed. And with that, Atsumu gave you his signature wave and headed back to the team, greeted by Bokuto and Hinata who immediately grabbed his entire body and shook him with a feral and fired up energy.

You headed back to your dorm, holding the jacket closer to your body. You passed the group of girls, who’s discussion died down when you walked past, but you took no care to notice. You now wished that the walk back was longer, just so you could enjoy this moment a little more. You don’t know what made him take such a bold step. You barely knew one another. But you weren’t one to complain, and you had another day to look forward to. Much to your disappointment, your walk to the dorm block came to an end as you rounded the last curve of the path.

You walked up to the door of your dorm room, slamming the door open with a wild fire of a blush on your face. Your friend looked up from their laptop, startled by your dramatic entrance. You wordlessly turned around, revealing Atsumu’s name on the jacket he gave you. Your friend flew out of their seat, screaming wildly as they shook you with the same rigor as Bokuto and Hinata when they shook Atsumu. You held onto your friend screamed, though with a tone that connoted confusion more than anything.

*Meanwhile*

Atsumu shivered and sniffled as he walked back to his dorm with Sakusa. The masked boy looked disapprovingly at his roommate, praying he didn’t catch a cold.

“That was silly. Was it worth it?” he asked.

“Shut up,” Atsumu replied, shoving his hands in his pockets. “And yes it was.”

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #atsumu haikyuu #Miya Atsumu #atsumu miya #atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #idk i suck at tags can u tell

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victorious1956 · 4 years

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My RWBY Fic List

A quick recap of where we're at before IronQrow Week starts.

Here is my updated list. These are all Fair Game focused, unless otherwise indicated.

AO3 rating shown after each title.

Recently posted/updated:

Love, Betrayal, and All That Follows (M)

When your day job is trying to save the world, the idea of discovering love along the way doesn't enter your head. So when Qrow finds himself in Atlas, dealing with love is as unexpected as the betrayal that follows. Ongoing 26/? chapters 76,566 words

Love Enough For Three (M)

Qrow/Clover/James in various permutations Qrow blames both himself and James for Clover's situation. James blames himself too, for that and also for almost everything else that has happened. Maybe the three of them, together, can find the peace which they—and everyone else—deserve. Ongoing 6/? chapters 12,222 words

Numerically Speaking Series

A series of (mostly) unconnected short stories, prompted by the numbers 1 to 10. Ongoing Part Nine: Nine Visitors (G) Qrow and Clover invite family and friends to their home on Patch for a house-warming gathering. 1 chapter 4,032 words

Vicky's OT4 Story Series (T)

Five linked pieces for Iron Dragon's Charms Week. Or, how Qrow, Clover, James, and Taiyang got together. Completed

The Parent-Teacher Association (T)

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Northumbrian Treasure (T)

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Three Hot Men (T)

Qrow/Clover/James A house out in the country should be the perfect place for a short break from the rigours of work. If only they could get the heating to function properly... 1 chapter 2,068 words

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Marrow/Jaune Marrow and Jaune know their relationship is something special... something more than either has known before. They decide they both want to take it further, but is it too soon for Jaune? 1 chapter 2,517 words

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The first time is special. The second, even more so. 1 chapter 2,552 words

The King, the Knight, and the Dragon (T)

Qrow/James/Taiyang Sir Qrow is the most accomplished knight at the court of King James. When he is sent to investigate reports of a dragon bothering some of the king's subjects, the unexpected outcome will touch the lives of several people at court. 1 chapter 7,567 words

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Clover/James Everyone is beautiful in the dark. James knew the old saying well. He wondered if anyone could ever find him beautiful in the light of day. 1 chapter 1,339 words

Flightless (G)

The war is drawing to a close, and Qrow is flying back to Atlas after a successful mission. When his flight ends abruptly, little does Qrow know that one aspect of his life has now changed forever. 1 chapter 4,860 words

Older fics below cut

A Fair Game Rainbow Series

A series of eight unconnected short stories, prompted by the colours of the rainbow. Because why not 🌈🙂 Completed Part One: Red (G) As their first Valentine's Day approaches, Clover wants to surprise Qrow with a small, yet thoughtful, gesture. 1 chapter 1,201 words Part Two: Orange (T) Qrow and Clover finally get some time off work together, and decide to take a short vacation. 1 chapter 1,384 words Part Three: Yellow (T) Breaking the ice with a shared DIY task? It's more likely than you think. 1 chapter 1,220 words Part Four: Green (T) An unexpected visitor on board the United Star Ship Atlas proves unsettling for Lieutenant Clover Ebi. 1 chapter 2,806 words Part Five: Blue (G) It's Clover's birthday, and for the first year in a long time, he's going to celebrate. He just doesn't know it yet. 1 chapter 2,218 words Part Six: Indigo (T) All Qrow needs is a good night's sleep. All Clover wants is to help him get one. 1 chapter 1,697 words Part Seven: Violet (M) Qrow's misfortune makes itself felt at a most inopportune moment. 1 chapter 1,233 words Part Eight: Rainbow (G) If Qrow had been offered his heart's desire years ago, he doubts he would have thought of wishing for what he has now. 2 chapters 2,420 words

Clover Ebi: Ace Operative Series

A short series looking at how a Fair Game relationship might work, if Clover were asexual. Completed Part One: Best of Friends (T) Qrow and Clover find they have more in common than they first thought. 1 chapter 4,158 words Part Two: Lines of Communication (G) Clover can't help fretting, which almost spoils a special day. 1 chapter 2,971 words Part Three: Part of You (M) Being together for a year is a good reason to celebrate, but things don't quite go according to plan. 1 chapter 2,433 words Part Four: Now and Always (T) Qrow and Clover take the next step. 4 chapters 7,857 words

Early Days Series

A series of short fics which follow Qrow and Clover as they become more friendly, leading into the start of a deeper relationship. Completed Part One: Window 1, Bird 0 (T) Qrow has a spot of bad luck. Fortunately, someone is looking out for him and is able to help. 1 chapter 1,481 words Part Two: Iron, Qrow (G) Qrow gets some unexpected domestic advice. 1 chapter 1,118 words Part Three: Search and Retrieve Mission (T) Clover suffers a loss, but Qrow is able to help. 1 chapter 1,267 words Part Four: By the Book (G) Clover finds a way to say thank you. 1 chapter 1,462 words Part Five: A Bird in the Hand (G) An afternoon of avian exploits, and a reminder of Clover's past. 1 chapter 1,993 words Part Six: Good Hair, Bad News (T) Time to trim those untidy feathers. 1 chapter 1,702 words Part Seven: Enable Cookies (G) Qrow is in need of inspiration. Lucky for him, Clover is on hand to supply it. 1 chapter 1,959 words Part Eight: Fever Pitch (G) Qrow gets an opportunity to demonstrate his bedside manner. 1 chapter 1,859 words Part Nine: The Last Dance (T) A celebratory night out for everyone gives Qrow and Clover a chance to get closer. 1 chapter 1,633 words Part Ten: Reggie's Diner (G) Finally. A kiss. 1 chapter 1,674 words

Fair Game Weekend 2020 Series

3 fics for Fair Game Weekend, 2nd-4th October 2020. Completed Part One: Good For The Soul (G) After arriving in Atlas, Weiss initiates a plan to help the new hunters and the Ace Ops get to know each other better. The outcome, in one way at least, is more successful than even she expected. 1 chapter 4,075 words Part Two: Chasing This Starlight (T) After resolving their difficulties and deciding they want to be together, Qrow finally joins Clover on the USS Atlas. 1 chapter 2,046 words Part Three: Tantalised (T) Qrow normally has no interest in the festive season. This year he grudgingly agrees to participate, if only to keep Jimmy quiet. 1 chapter 3,260 words

Numerically Speaking Series

A series of (mostly) unconnected short stories, prompted by the numbers 1 to 10. Ongoing Part One: One Mistake (M) One mistake. One stupid mistake. And suddenly, everything was ruined. 1 chapter 1,947 words Part Two: Two Months (T) It is hard to see past the hurt. But to heal, that is what Qrow tries to do. 1 chapter 1,417 words Part Three: Three in the Morning (G) When Qrow can't get back to sleep, he hatches a plan. It doesn't quite work. 1 chapter 1,002 words Part Four: Four in the Family (T) Three become four as Qrow and Clover welcome a new member of their family. 1 chapter 1,667 words Part Five: Five Words (T) Qrow and Clover have a date, a meal at their favourite restaurant. But this time, something seems different. 1 chapter 1,393 words Part Six: Six Weeks (T) Qrow/Clover / Blake/Yang / Jaune/Marrow Yang is determined to keep working as long as she can. Luckily, when she unexpectedly goes into labour, she's with the right people. 1 chapter 3,128 words Part Seven: Seven Stars (G) An evil is rising, and the Captain of the Guard is sent from Minas Tirith to seek one who may be able to overcome it. 2 chapters 5,518 words Part Eight: Eight Days (T) Sometimes, the most trivial disagreement is all it takes. But if you care enough, there's usually a way back. 1 chapter 2,138 words

Qrowtober 2020 Series

Six separate fics for Qrowtober 2020. Completed Day Two: Flight Interrupted (T) Qrow is a bird on a mission. When he finds himself caught in a storm, it takes an unexpected turn. 4 chapters 8,432 words Day Seven: A Quiet Night In (G) Qrow & Yang & Ruby / Background Taiyang/Summer Taiyang and Summer have been married for three years, and Qrow agrees they deserve a night out to celebrate. 1 chapter 1,677 words Day Eight: Images of Yesterday (G) Qrow/Taiyang Taiyang has accumulated an attic full of memories stretching back many years. Some of them are inconsequential. Others, Qrow realises, mean so much more. 1 chapter 1,005 words Day Twenty-One: A Different Family (G) Qrow & Raven Family is very important to Qrow. He wants to belong, but he begins to realise, not all families are the same. 1 chapter 841 words Day Twenty-Four: Misplaced Trust (T) Qrow/James Qrow knows there are limitations to the intimacy he shares with James. Finally, he must question whether a relationship without trust is one worth having. 1 chapter 1,225 words Day Thirty-One: The Love That You Bring (G) Qrow has seen Remnant at its worst. With the war behind them, he and Clover can look to the future. Both men agree, the world is a better place now they are together. 1 chapter 1,675 words

Varin & Challance Series

Stories taking place throughout Qrow and Clover's life together. Ongoing Part One: A New Home (T) The war has been left behind, the personal difficulties surmounted. It's time for Qrow and Clover to finish preparing their new home on Patch, and Tai is happy to help where he can. 1 chapter 2,468 words Part Two: Four in the Family (T) Three become four as Qrow and Clover welcome a new member of their family. 1 chapter 1,667 words Part Three: Rainbow (G) If Qrow had been offered his heart's desire years ago, he doubts he would have thought of wishing for what he has now. 2 chapters 2,420 words Part Four: Till I Die (T) Qrow's final flight. 1 chapter 1,500 words

7-6 (M)

A quiet night in for Qrow and Clover ends in an unexpected battle for the two experienced fighters. 1 chapter 1,202 words

As Tears Go By (G)

Some painful memories never leave you, but if you have a sympathetic partner there for you, it helps. 1 chapter 1,257 words

Birth Day (T)

Qrow and Clover wait anxiously for a very special delivery. 1 chapter 1,491 words

Convergence (T)

Qrow and Clover are bound to get together. Eventually. 1 chapter 1,514 words

Deep (E)

Qrow sometimes teases Clover about the depth of feeling between them. But they both know that being in deep, is where they want to be. 1 chapter 1,396 words

Face the Rain (G)

Clover and Qrow have been together for some time now, but the cracks are starting to show. 1 chapter 2,324 words

Home Is In Your Arms (G)

Qrow has never known true love, and anyway, he's not sure if it's something he deserves. But maybe things are different now. 1 chapter 2,787 words

i'm dreaming 'bout those dreamy eyes (G)

The importance or otherwise of eye colour. 1 chapter 478 words

In Your Eyes (T)

Not everyone believes in the idea of a soulmate. And sometimes, you don't have to. 1 chapter 6,303 words

Instinctively Yours (T)

In Springtime, every bird's thoughts turn to finding a partner. Clover never expected it to be him. 1 chapter 2,016 words

It's Not Goodbye (G)

Jaune/Marrow In the escalating confusion after team RWBY fight with the Ace Ops, there is someone Jaune desperately wants to find. 1 chapter 647 words

Kiss Me, Kiss Me (T)

After the trials and tribulations in Atlas, Clover and Qrow enjoy some downtime in Patch. 1 chapter 1,635 words

Letting Go (G)

Qrow/Taiyang Qrow tries to help Taiyang move on. 1 chapter 948 words

The Monster I've Become (T)

James/Clover James had not expected love, or anything like it, to come calling. But it does, and for a while he can be happy. Life, however, has other plans for him. 1 chapter 4,928 words

The New Stable Master (G)

Captain Clover Ebi arrives at Faunus Hall, to take up a position as Stable Master. The estate Steward, Qrow Branwen, is unsure of his suitability for the role. In time, however, Qrow finds they have much in common. 1 chapter 4,925 words

The One Who Loved You So (G)

James/Qrow and Qrow/Clover James cares for Qrow. He sometimes wishes he didn't. 1 chapter 1,000 words

The Only One That Knows Me (G)

There are two Clover Ebis— one public, one private. Other than Clover himself, only one person knows them both. 1 chapter 1,686 words

Paradigm Shift (M)

Clover's life is settled in every way except one. As he searches for the right woman for him, fate takes a hand and sets him on an unexpected path. 10 chapters 19,360 words

a qrow came to me (G)

A short scene which could have happened, but sadly never did. 1 chapter 672 words

Reassurance (T)

Qrow always anticipates the worst outcome in any situation. Clover tries to reassure him, that isn't always how things turn out. 1 chapter 1,113 words

Regency Bees (G)

Blake/Yang and Qrow/Clover, but less so than usual! A desparate situation calls for a desperate remedy. Especially when you have been told you must marry a gentleman for whom you have no regard. 7 chapters 13,556 words

A Regency Qrow (M)

Qrow returns to England after an extended trip, to find society has changed considerably in his absence. 4 chapters 13,918 words

Room in Your Heart (T)

Clover would like to get to know Qrow better, but is there a place for him in Qrow's heart? 1 chapter 2,414 words

The Shape of You (T)

Qrow sees Clover in a new light. 1 chapter 900 words

Sharp Edges (T)

There is more than one way to hurt those you care about. 1 chapter 3,208 words

The Silver Lining (T)

When it seems there might be a repeat of the disastrous pandemic of two years ago, the government loses no time in declaring a lockdown of all households. For Qrow and Clover, this presents a problem. 1 chapter 3,162 words

Some Kind of Madness (E)

Clover enjoys the heady rush of a new relationship. But after the madness of the early, euphoric liaisons, is there anything more? 1 chapter 3,642 words

Storytime (E)

Clover is away, so he calls Qrow and tells him a bedtime story. 1 chapter 1,501 words

Straight From Your Heart (T)

Following the catastrophic fight on the tundra, Qrow and Clover try and come to terms with what happened. 4 chapters 4,049 words

A Thirty-Leaf Clover (T)

Various Clover-centric relationships One 100-word drabble chapter a day, for the month of Clovember 2020. 30 chapters 3,000 words

A Time To Hold On, A Time To Let Go (G)

Jaune/Marrow Sometimes it can take a long while to let go, but that's okay. 1 chapter 683 words

Two Hearts (G)

Two hearts, drawn together. A poem. 1 chapter 184 words

We Don't Have To Dance (M)

Neither Qrow nor Clover is looking for love— both are happy with casual encounters. A chance meeting might change their perspective. 3 chapters 7,555 words

Who Are You? (T)

Dreams are always open to interpretation, and Clover has no idea what his means. The answer, when it eventually comes, will change his life. 4 chapters 12,281 words

you know i can't love (T)

Loving someone is not always enough. 1 chapter 1,901 words

#rwby fanfiction #fair game #qrow branwen #clover ebi #guard dogs #ironluck #taiqrow #lucky ironqrow #taiyang xiao long #james ironwood #marrow amin #jaune arc #my posts

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kpopmalereader · 4 years

Text

thick and thin ; kim hanbin

• summary: hanbin has been having a tough time, he’s been angry and irritable recently, and he thinks you’ll leave him, but tell him it’s alright and reassure him of his feelings • pairing: kim hanbin x male!reader • word count: 1527 • to do

The air above the table is still tense. Conversations around you continue. The constant movement and noise of the restaurant is ongoing but the few members of your family in front of you have gone silent. Besides the occasional poke at the appetizers, nothing of note happens.

You don’t know how to begin the conversation or move on past telling your family your boyfriend isn’t going to show up. He texted and said he couldn’t get away. He texted you this fifteen minutes after he was supposed to show up but you digress. Most of your family didn’t seem to care but your mom said something about trust, time management, and reliability and made it awkward for everyone. Now you’re sitting in that veil of awkwardness with family members that don’t know Hanbin forming an opinion about him that isn’t true. You’ve told her before that if he’s busy and cancels a plan it’s something he can’t avoid. Or he knows if he is in the room with your family answering questions with your mom scrutinizing every single one of his life decisions he’s going to regret coming out. But she tends to refuse any excuses or see where her insults might hurt him.

Your dad looks between you and your mom, asking about school or work or anything to move the conversation.

The evening moves slower than a snail. One of your cousins looks at his watch and makes a remark about catching some game on TV which gives everyone enough reason to disperse.

Before opening your front door you attempt to let the tension out of your shoulders. It doesn’t work well. You push your forehead against the door as you unlock it, letting out a sigh when the cool inside air hits you.

Hanbin sits on the couch in sweatpants, tapping away on his computer. He nods his head up an inch to acknowledge your arrival.

“Hey,” You shrug off everything in the doorway. “My mom gave you a few compliments.”

“Right.” He says.

No emotion is obvious in the word, but you don’t think anything of it.

“Was something wrong?” You ask. “Is there a particular reason you didn’t go?”

Hanbin sighs and the shrug he gives you is rather harsh.

You breathe out of your nose and nod. “Okay. I’m going to take a shower.”

“I don’t think I need a reason not to go somewhere.” Hanbin mumbles.

You fall back in your step before shaking your head and going forward. “I love you.”

“Can we talk?” You ask.

Water sprays back at you as you rinse the soap off of the dishes in the sink. Hanbin fast-paced typing slows.

“About?”

“You’ve-” You hesitate on the word to use next. He hasn’t canceled plans. He maintains that he’s going to show up then texts you after the plans start that’s he’s not going to make it. He’s bailed on your plans. “You’ve canceled our last three plans, two of which some of my family was there. They are starting to ask questions. I was just wondering if everything was okay. I know you don’t like me asking but I want you to know you can talk to me.”

Hanbin looks over at you, seeing your worried eyes aimed at a hand towel. You shift your weight back and forth on your feet. You make quick eye contact with Hanbin and his eyebrows pull down. You recognize the thoughtful look and nod your head.

“I love you.”

Hanbin wipes his hands on his pants, preparing himself to walk into the room. You’re sitting cross-legged in front of the mirror with your hair half-styled.

“Darling.”

He hasn’t called you that one in a while. You look up. Concentration is painted across his face. Your heart begins to drop a few levels, mind racing with every bad outcome of whatever he might say.

“Yeah?” Your grip on the hairbrush tightens.

“I was wondering if you wanted to go on a date?” He smiles at you. His eyes are full of hope and warmth.

You nod your head slowly. You smile at each other for a few seconds. Then your shoulders relax and you nod again, quicker this time.

“I would love to. What did you have planned?”

He starts to tell you, you can see it in his eyes before a sly smile appears and he shuts his mouth. “It’s a surprise. Wear pants and socks.”

“Only those?” You ask, earning a snort as he walks out of his house.

“Ice skating?” Your nose is pressed against the passenger side window. You sigh and wiggle in your seat, all but forcing Hanbin’s heart to skip three beats. “We’re going ice skating?”

“Are you okay with that?” He picks at his steering-wheel cover.

You sit on your hands and nod. “Yeah.”

“Are you trying to act like you’re not excited?” Hanbin asks.

You nod again and his hand reaches over to squeeze your thigh. He’s barely able to put the car into park before you jump out, bouncing on your feet.

“You don’t have to worry about toning down yourself around me.” He pulls the pair of skates he bought you out of the trunk. He nods his head earnestly. “I promise. I like seeing you enjoy things. And it is very, very adorable.”

He presses his lips against your forehead, a delighted hum and smile appearing because of the kiss.

You do a small dance to let out your excitement and stretch up. “It’s because of you… Most of the time.”

“I will do anything to see it.”

The rink is mostly empty when you walk in. The few people there are spread apart or staying by the rails. You rub your hands together and look around the rink expectantly as Hanbin gets a pair of rental skates. You speed-walk around the rink to get to the seat you’ve long since claimed as yours, leaving Hanbin a few steps behind.

Your shoes are on and you’re on the ice before Hanbin can get his first skate on. You turn a few times in the middle of the rink, arms spreading slowly.

He takes your expression in for a minute. The cool air and soft noise washing over you.

“Do you remember,” He skates over to you and holds one of your hands, “helping” you balance to lift one of your legs. “Do you remember when we first met?”

“I was practicing.” You smile and open your eyes lazily. “You ran into me and blamed it on your sister.”

He brushes your shirt off and kisses your knuckles. “You said I could have gotten hurt if I was hit with your blades,”

You giggle at the thought. “You told me whatever injury would have been worth it to meet me.”

“I was much suaver back then.”

“You couldn’t speak for a minute after you said it because you were too embarrassed.” You roll your eyes at him and skate around him, turning him in place. “You still flirt with me.”

“Not as much as I should. I should be trying to woo you just like I was before we made it official.” He seems upset. Not sad or angry but the quiet type of upset he does when it feels like too much to share.

You stop and pull him closer, moving his hands to your shoulders. “Talk. No one’s around. I can see something happening in that big brain of yours, but I can’t do anything to make it go away if you lock it up.”

You lock eyes. His resolve melts and he knocks his forehead against your shoulder. You hold him up by his waist and kiss the top of his head.

“I don’t deserve you.” He doesn’t give you the chance to interrupt. “I don’t. I’ve been spending so much time feeling bad about myself and being upset about everything. I give you short answers and don’t show up to anything.”

“Hanbin,” You stop him and pull his face up. “I am so in love with you. I’m so in love with you that I argue with my family about how great you are every single time you are brought up.”

You sigh and kiss his cheek. “Yes, I have noticed you acting different but I recognize that you’re going through something right now. Something like that would make anyone a little different, and you have never, never once before this acted negative or aggravated towards me.”

He closes his eyes and rubs at his cheek.

“Aw, honey,” You lean your forehead against his. “It’s okay to feel things and be upset. I just want you to be open with me. I don’t like not talking to you and you being upset but I understand it. I was willing to go with it for as long as you needed.”

He nods his head and sighs into your chest. He makes himself as small as he can and lets everything go. “You told me you loved me.”

“What?”

“Before you would leave after I said something, you said you loved me. Every time.”

“Because I do. And I always will.”

#ikon #kpop #kpop scenario #ikon x reader #male reader #ikon imagine #ikon scenario #hanbin #kim hanbin #kpop male reader #kpop x reader #kpop x male reader #ikon male reader #hanbin x reader #hanbin x male reader #hanbin x male!reader #kim hanbin x male reader #kim hanbin x male!reader

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osterfieldshollandgirl · 4 years

Text

A Boxer’s Romance Story

Thank you all for the support, it means a lot to me. I love you all!

Summary:

where the reader is best friends with harry and she is hanging outside with Harry while Harrison and Tom are boxing together and she catches tom looking at her and he ends up trying to impress her but gets hit in eye a little hard so you take care of him and he confesses his feelings to the reader.

Y/N POV It is a nice day outside where it is not too hot yet cool enough, so you and your best friend Harry are chilling and hanging outside in his backyard at his house. Tom and Harrison are also outside shirtless practicing their boxing skills on each other, which is quite interesting and entertaining. The sight is making it hard for me to ignore my feelings toward Tom and seeing him shirtless especially since he has gained more muscles recently is quite difficult. I am sitting on a chair that is reclined so my legs are stretched in front of me and I am wearing a crop top with shorts since it is summer, so the shorts are at an appropriate length but make my backside look nice. As I am tanning laying next to Harry, who is messing around with a new camera getting all excited about the new features, I say "How much do you bet that Tom will get hurt by accident?" He looks up at me with a smirk on his face and I know that face he has an idea which slightly scares me. "I have a better idea; I will take that bet with your side being that you will distract Tom and he will end up getting hurt, and my thought is that Harrison will forget to cover and hurt himself." I look at him with slight suspension, "What is in it for me?" I ask interested. Harry says mischievously "If you win, I will take pictures for your socials, and If you lose you have to cook for me for two weeks." He says proudly and puts his hand out and I shake it with a smile on my face, this will be fun. I feel liked someone is watching us and see Tessa smiling up at me with her tail wagging happily, I get up from the chair and bend down to play with her. As I am playing with Tessa, I look up and see Tom staring at us with an adoring smile on his face. I wave at him with a smile on my face and he blushes getting caught staring and waves back with a cute smile. I go back to sit down on the chair and see Harry smile at me "Looks like you are winning right now but knowing Harrison something could happen." I sit back and as I realized it was getting hotter, you thought since you were wearing a sports bra underneath it could be like a bathing suit top and took off the crop top. Then an idea popped into your head, to make sure Tom saw what you were doing and to do to it slowly and seductively. So "accidentally" on purpose in the duration of taking off the top, Tom just happened to look in your direction and saw a glimpse of in slow motion taking off the crop top. He got so fixated on your actions that when Harrison just came back and asked Tom if he was ready and Tom nodded not listening. Tom was intensely watching you sit back down on the chair only in a sports bra with a beautiful smile on your face.

Tom's POV

Y/N is beautiful, I wish I could make her mine except she is best friends with Harry and he probably would not let her date me. I have been practicing my boxing skills with Harrison and to make it better it is a wonderful day outside to do it is that Y/N is relaxing outside. I will impress her with my skills and make her realize that I like her and hopefully she will like me back. In the corner of my eye, I see Y/N taking off her top in what seems like slow motion while purposely looking in my direction. I get so fixated on her actions that I hear Harrison ask me something and I answer him nodding. Then the next thing I see is his fist coming directly in my face and hear Y/N and Harry shriek in panic before I pass out.

Y/N POV I sit back and relax with a smile on my face proud that my plan worked charmingly. Harry's jaw is clenched annoyed and I do not understand why he is annoyed. He is the one who mentioned the bet, so I ask, "What's the wrong H?" He looks over to me with this look in his eyes that warns me not to push the situation too far. "This started as fun and games, but I am not comfortable with you and Tom being together. I do not want to choose between my best friend and my brother. That act was cute but please stop." He says seriously. I am sitting there shocked the smile is off my face and I am sitting there confused on how things have changed so suddenly. "I am sorry H; I did not mean to hurt you in any way. No one can come in between us." Then all of a sudden we hear a grunt and see Harrison punch Tom and see Tom going down, I sprint over and fall to the grass on my knees catching Tom's head in my lap as he falls. At this moment I love having Tom in my lap, it was once in a dream I had where Tom and I were dating and we were sitting in a field where he had his head in my lap. I ran my fingers through his soft thick hair, and he was smiling satisfied and cuddled into me more. I snapped out of it as Harry looked down at me with a mixture of annoyance and anger, while Harrison looked down with a smirk and an evil glint in his eyes. I then look down and it occurs to me that I am in only my sports bra and Tom is very close to me both of us shirtless. Harry and Harrison are standing above me shielding the sun for Tom and you. Tom is slowly waking up and I can see a black eye forming so I ask Harry to grab an ice pack from the freezer, as Harry does that I ask Harrison to help me move Tom to the chair so he is sitting up but before we can move Tom wakes up. Tom looks up at me with a dreamy look in his eyes and looks around him then it hits him that he is in Y/N lap and smiles. I look away quickly blushing, then before I can embarrass myself more in front of my crush. We sit him up on the chair, so he is sitting upright, and he frowns because he misses the warmth you radiated and your perfect scent. I go and put my shirt back on after he is settled in the chair. I make sure the ice pack is ready and help Tom guide the pack to his eye and as he places the pack on the eye, he flinches in pain making me non-discretely flinch as well. When I thought no one was watching, I leaned down and kissed his cheek with the black eye and pulled away quickly but not quick enough as Harry and Harrison both caught me. "Oooh does someone have a crush?" Harrison teases. Harry just shakes head and gives me a pointed look. I laugh nervously and "I might, why are you jealous?" you joke back, not noticing the glint of hope in Tom's eyes as a response. "No, but it would be an honor for a girl like you to like me," Harrison replies honestly and clears his throat as to end the topic. I did not realize that Tom was watching me panic while trying to get a plate of food together so he can eat and take pain medication to prevent pain for his headache before it forms. He keeps watching me with that beautiful smile of his because he cannot look away with the way the chair was set. I set up the chair to face me so I can watch him, and so he does not have to move his head too much to get my attention even though he does not have try to hard to get my attention. I set up the tray cutely with flowers in a little vase, a beer and water and sandwich, and pain killers. I walk out the door and walk towards him with the tray, a little shaky because he was intensely watching my every move. I also made myself food so that he would not feel lonely. I put my foot on my side and placed the tray in front of him. He looks down at it with an appreciative smile, "Thank you, darling, you did not have to go all through this trouble. I have hurt myself much worse." I blush again and say as you settle in your seat" It is not an issue I feel guilty that I am part of the reason you are hurt." Tom looks up at me with a bashful expression "It is not your fault that you are beautiful and I have always felt that, I want to tell you something and please let me finish before responding." He grabs my hands from across the table and continues" I like you a lot and always thought what it would be like to be with you. When you teased me like that I felt something and I got so distracted by your beautiful body but I do not regret it because if not for Harrison's punch we would not be here right now." I look into his eyes and see how emotional he is getting, and I take a minute to take a deep breath. I look around for Harry and see him and Harrison watching with excitement and anxiety from the kitchen window and see him take a deep breath and nod as to permit you silently that he is okay if Tom and you get together and I smile genuinely big with happiness and walk over to Tom. He pulls me into his lap instead of letting me sit on the chair next to him. He wraps his arms around my waist, and I wrap mine around his neck. I look into his eyes and say "I like you too, I always thought about what it would be like to be with you as well. When you were in my lap, it felt like a dream that I once had. Would you like to go on a date with me?" I wait anxiously while playing with his hair. "I was supposed to ask that, but Yes, I would love to." I squeal and move around in his lap, he grabs my hips to keep me in place and whispers with a smirk "I would suggest you do not move around too much as you have made a problem before and making it much worse. Unless you want to fix it." I blush hard and whisper back" I would fix it if we were alone😉, just kidding but I know one way to help a headache." He gets even more sexy as he smiles and asks "Yes, what would that be?" "This" and you lean down and kiss him. He is surprised at first than kisses back and pulls me closer making it deeper and more passionate. We pull away and laugh as Harry and Harrison are cheering in the kitchen even Tessa is wagging her tail smiling with the outcome. Harry and Harrison come out and sit down at the table's chair while I am still sitting on Tom's Lap and he is eating his food around me. I roll my eyes as boys are always easy to please with food. Tessa joined us outside sitting near Tom's feet, I talk to Tessa in my special voice for her "Is it okay, if I date your Tom? I promise to share him." Tessa smiles up at me licking my hand, I look up to the boys excited, "I got her permission it is official now." Tom laughs and says, "I have the best girlfriend in the world who decided she needed permission from my other girl." Tom senses me smiling and kisses my cheek, the boys are eyeing my food, so I permit them to eat it. "So that you won the bet, when do you want the photo shoot." Harry says after finishing his bite of the sandwich. "what bet is he talking about darling.?" Tom asks to hurt a little looking at Harrison for an answer, still no answer. I turn slightly to look into his eyes, "Well I bet you would get hurt and Harry bet Harrison would get hurt. Harry said I would distract you and you accidentally get hurt. So, the shirt plan worked but for me, I won the best prize." Tom's facial expression changes from angry to confused to proud and cocky. Tom kisses me softly making the boys gag and says" Yes, I won the best prize." Harry coughs "Now, I said you can date but no PDA in front of me please." "Thank you, Harry, you are the best friend I could ask for" and lean over to kiss his cheek. Tom pulls me back right away kissing my neck and cheek as to claim me and I pat his chest saying, "I am yours not anybody else don't worry." Tom nods happy saying "And no one gets kisses beside me" while pouting. I laugh and give him a loving kiss. After that, we all sit together and chat enjoying the evening with our family.

Tag list:

@littlekidsteve @peachyxholland @tom-holland-is-spiderman @follow-tom-holland-is-spiderman @parkerpeter24 @frenchfrostpudding @osterfieldnholland @fanficparker @mymoontom @marvels-blue-phoenix @holytingle @petertiingz

@spyder-182 @sunflowerhollands

#tom holland imagine #tom holland smut #tom holland angst #tom holland

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emisfritish · 4 years

Text

The beat of your own drum

Pairing : Sarawat / Tine (2gether the series)

Summary : In which P’Air should be consulted for any decision made. Always. For the sake of their own good.

Or- Tine and P’Air have a heart to heart and he finally figures a few things out. Notes : Seeing as this last episode made it clear none of the boys is currently in possession of the lone brain cell they share between them, I thought it was high time someone valid spoke some sense into them.

-----------

1 hour left to go.

Tine is sitting in the music room, a guitar sitting on his lap and trying to focus on learning the latest chords that they are supposed to have mastered when they come back to the club after their exams, but he can’t seem to focus.

Sarawat’s football game against the Architecture team is in one hour, and the more time passes, the more anxious he feels. If Sarawat’s team loses the game, it’ll mean the end for him and Sarawat. And although Tine still isn’t sure about what he wants out of their relationship exactly, he knows that he at least wants the chance to be able to find out. He doesn’t want it to be over yet.

Tine had decided to come to the music room to practice earlier when the anxiety was getting the best of him, but he doesn’t seem to be able to get out of his head either way.

His mind whirling with different thoughts, he strums the guitar on the F#M chord.

“That sounds wrong,” he hears a voice call over from the door, and he lifts his head to find P’Air standing there, her hands on her hips and lifting a judging eyebrow towards him.

“I’m trying to do an F#M, but I can’t manage to get it right,” he says with a self-deprecating smile and Air makes her way closer to him to look at where his fingers are.

“Move over, I’ll show you,” she says, nudging him gently and Tine moves to the side of the bench so P’Air can sit next to him. She takes the guitar from his hands, placing it on her own lap and begins to explain how to play the chord.

“You see, your fingers should be on the second fret, and you…” she starts to explain, before stopping mid-sentence.

Tine, who is checking the clock again, only to see that just a few minutes have passed since the last time he checked, turns back towards her when he notices the silence and smiles.

“Sorry,” he apologizes.

“You seem distracted,” she states, putting the guitar on the floor besides her and turning towards him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you waste your time. It’s just… Sarawat’s game is starting in about an hour, and I’m a little stressed I guess,” says Tine, shrugging his shoulders a bit.

“Ah, you’re anxious you’re going to lose track of time and miss the game ?” she asks curiously.

“No, it’s not really that. It’s just that there is a lot riding on this game.”

P’Air lifts her eyebrows, clearly waiting for him to elaborate and Tine feels his cheeks warm up a little. He can’t believe he’s going to explain all of this to his P’.

“Well you see, Sarawat and I we’re… well. I don’t know what we are, really. But we’re something. And Sarawat is… well, he’s been flirting with me. Only our friends made a bet to help us figure out this whole situation once and for all. If Sarawat’s team wins the game, then I have to confess my feelings for him. But if Sarawat’s team loses the game, then we can’t see each other anymore and he has to stop flirting with me,” he explains, only to lift his head up and find P’Air watching him as if she didn’t understand any of the words that came out of his mouth.

“And what do you want, exactly ?” she asks incredulously.

“Well, I don’t really know P’. I don’t know that I’m ready to confess my love or anything yet, but I also know that I don’t want to lose Sarawat and I… I want us to be something. And I want us to have the time to find out what works for us. So you can see why there is a lot riding on this game.”

P’Air is looking at him as if he was speaking a foreign language, and Tine frowns at her reaction. Had he not been clear in his explanation ?

“Wait, so let me get this straight,” she says, pulling one leg over the bench so she is straddling it and able to face Tine better. “You know that you want to pursue something with Sarawat and that you have… some sort of feelings for him. And yet, you won’t go and admit that to him because your friends told you not to ?”

“Well… Yeah, basically,” he says, thinking about how her sentence did sum up what he was feeling pretty well. “My friends think maybe I’m just confused because of his good looks,” he explains further, and P’Air just sighs in answer.

“This is why I don’t do boys,” she says, shaking her head in disappointment before looking back at him and fixing him with a stare.

“So what made you think that taking advice from your friends, who I assume have never been in any sort of long term relationship before, was a good idea ?” she asks, lifting one of her eyebrows in judgement again.

At that sentence, Tine starts to feel a little confused about the whole thing. She does sort of have a point.

“You know what might actually help Sarawat win the game today ? If you went there and told him that he doesn’t actually have to win, that you’ll be there for him and with him no matter the outcome,” she explains patiently, although Tine can see from her face that she is not impressed with him right now.

“But what if my friends are right and I’m just confused right now ?” he asks in a small voice. He doesn’t want to drag Sarawat along for nothing after all.

“First off, no more taking advice from the peanut gallery. Second, you think a bet is going to help you figure this out ? You know what will actually help-- Going to Sarawat and being with Sarawat. The only way you’ll figure out your feelings is if you actually spend time with him and talk it all out, maybe take it slow at first,” she explains, as if talking to a five year old.

At her words, Tine feels a smile make his way on his face and he can’t seem to do anything to contain it. Because she’s right. The game today doesn’t have to mean so much, and him and Sarawat can just decide to be whatever they choose to be.

“March to the beat of your own drum, Nong Tine. Don’t let anyone else decide your future for you,” she says wisely.

Tine nods in answer, before getting up, the need to go find Sarawat and tell him about his newfound wisdom too strong to hold onto any longer.

He bends down to press a quick kiss to her cheek, before looking at her with a huge smile when he lifts himself back up.

“Men,” he hears her whisper disapprovingly, but he ignores the comment.

“Thank you,” he says excitedly. “This is why you’re the one who makes all of the important decisions for our club, you’re obviously a lot smarter than all of us put together.”

“Well, that’s a given,,” P’Air answers with a cocky smile, and Tine laughs at her response.

He makes his way towards the door, and stops in his tracks when he hears P’Air call him once again.

“Nong Tine... So this means you definitely won’t be pursuing anything with Pear, right ?” she asks when he turns towards her, and he simply shakes his head in answer.

“Good,” she says with a small smile. “Do you think Pear would mind if you gave me her line ID then ?”

Tine stays silent, trying to understand what his P’ is asking before the meaning of her words finally becomes clear. Oh. A huge smile breaks on his face.

“You know, I actually think that she’d like that, but I can ask her just in case before I send it to you,” he says in answer, and he sees a soft smile cross P’Air’s face. “She’s a med student and she’s really into learning all of the classic Rock ballads right now. Maybe you could teach her. I actually think you two could be pretty bad ass together,” he ends up saying.

“Well again, that’s a given,” she says, but the soft smile still gracing her face contradicts the cocky words. “Well, off you go then !”

He smiles at her one last time and turns back towards the door.

“I’ll ask her later today and send you her line,” he shouts above his shoulder, before he rushes towards the football field.

When he gets there, many people are already sitting in the stands or standing all around the football field. Tine can see some of the players from both teams already warming up on the field, but he can’t find Sarawat anywhere.

He makes his way towards the locker room and pauses to open up his jacket before entering, Sarawat’s jersey on full display, just like for the last game. He isn’t wearing football shorts but well… This will have to do.

He enters and he finds Sarawat sitting alone on the bench in front of his locker, all of the other players probably in the bathroom or on the field already.

“How do you feel ?” he asks sitting next to him, and Sarawat whips his head towards him in surprise, before shrugging his shoulders. Tine places one of his hands on Sarawat’s knee, the one that got hurt during the fight after the last game, and squeezes gently.

“Does it still hurt ? Should you even be playing right now ?” he asks softly, and Sarawat looks at him intently.

“I want to play. And more than that, I have to play,” he says, and Tine can see the hurt shining in his eyes at the idea that Tine doesn’t care if he wins anymore.

“Actually, you don’t have to. But okay, if you want to play, maybe you should just come find me after the game so we can put some ice on your knee then,” he says with a soft smile, causing Sarawat to frown in answer.

“You mean I should come and find you if we win,” he says in a small voice.

“No, I mean you should come and find me either way. I’m tired of letting what my friends, or your friends, or anyone else thinks decide what we want. And I want us. Or at least, I want to see if there could be an us. So if you’ll still have me…” he trails off, hoping Sarawat is understanding what he’s saying.

The unadulterated hope that Tine can read on Sarawat’s face causes his heart to start beating double time again.

Yeah, that can’t just be normal.

Before thinking too much about it, he pushes forward on the bench and drops a small kiss on Sarawat’s lips, before getting up and facing him.

Seeing the look of shock on Sarawat’s face slowly morph into a look of pure joy makes his heart clench in his chest, and Tine knows that this was the right move.

“I’ll let you be, but good luck out there… boyfriend,” he says with a cheeky smile, before leaving the locker room and going to stand on the side of the field, Sarawat’s jersey still proudly on display on his back.

Thank god for P’Air, really.

#sarawat x tine #saratine #2gether the series #2gether #2gether fanfic #saratine fanfic #2gether fic #saratine ffic #emi's writing

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nomadicism · 4 years

Note

Now that She Ra is over, what are your thoughts on it? What about that Catradora kiss?

Hi Anon! Thank you for the Ask!

ヽ(*⌒∇⌒*)ﾉ Where to start?

I have so many thoughts on the show, and I’ve had so many thoughts since season 1. I’ve not written much of anything about She-Ra because I keep coming back to this problem of ‘where to start,’ or how to structure my thoughts beyond a +1000 item list. I can’t even pick one or two thoughts to dive into, because they all end up connecting to everything else —> honestly, that’s the mark of a tight narrative, even the big pieces that can fully stand on their own are still leading through to another piece. I fail at every attempt to write something brief.

Section I: Short answer first.

I have a very short and subjective list of media where I not only love (for different reasons) nearly every character (main, secondary, background), but where I also feel that their individual places or moments or arcs concluded in a way that felt right from start to finish. It’s a short list of media where connections and conflict between characters never felt forced, out-of-place, out-of-context, or done for shock value. She-Ra and the Princesses of Power makes that very short and subjective list.

It’s not often that a story hits all the right notes with me, and it’s much more often that a story starts off strong like that, and then turns me off ½-⅔ of the way through. I’ve quit video games during the final boss fight because the story lost me in the lead-up and I wasn’t going to waste 10-20 minutes of my time for something that turned out to be ‘meh’. It ain’t got to be deep, or anything either.

I really loved the voice acting. Everyone is great. A post for another time.

I love the aesthetics, which I wasn’t sure of at first teasers, but won me over in less than 3 minutes of the first episode (season 1) because I love bright pastels, the character designs are fun (can I still gush over variety of body types? YES), so many opportunities to explore stylish takes on the characters, and those Moebius-inspired scenery/background designs are a special interest delight. Season 5 delivered a visual ‘end game’ for the aesthetics in many ways, Section III further down will get into that a bit.

Section II: “What about that Catradora kiss?”

I gotta preface this with, shipping is not my go-to for how I enjoy creative works. It’s not a hobby for me. Sure there’s a few I dig more than others, but I’m otherwise agnostic about ships, unless there is a really bad story-fit (and that’s usually a subjective thing), or involves tropes that are a deal-breaker for me (and those typically relate a lot to the story fit).

With that said, I’m really happy to see Catradora be pulled off so brilliantly, and I think the kiss is a bold and beautiful big deal in a way that might not be obvious when considered in a vacuum. I see it as passionate and heart-felt, but also, it’s achieving(?) a relatable outcome (for me at least) that’s hard to describe. It’s an outcome yielded by a story in which two women—a hero and a villain—are divided and fight bitterly and then reconcile through love, while fighting a purity cult whose founder-prophet-god-king forces subservience through a conversion designed to strip someone of their identity (e.g. names they’ve chosen for themselves), memories-and-motivations, and love for others.

Despite these conversions, love still remains, it can’t just be baptized or therapy-ed away. Controlling puritans and authoritarians wielding religion or peace-panaceas as a weapon have been the villains in the lives of countless women and LGBTQIA people for a very long time. So yeah, I’ve got some feels about that. The last time I felt anything similarly relatable, or as strongly, was the Utena and Anthy relationship in Revolutionary Girl Utena (and really, their kiss during the surreal sequence at the end of the film adaptation).

Section III: Thoughts on Cult Aesthetics and Clones (the rough cut)

(1) In the future scenes at the end, Adora’s white dress with gold tiara and accents have this kind of goddess-like or Pallas Athena feel to it, which is a great mirror of the design choices for the god-like Horde Prime, his Purity Space Cult, mechanics/ship, and flagship interior scenery. Not saying that was the intention, but that’s how it came across to me.

Of course, those colors would be used because She-Ra already wears white and gold with a bit of red accent, which complement how the princesses are bright and colorful (pastels and jewel tones). The bold and bright colors helps signify that Etheria is full of life. Etheria is verdant and magical, and that sets up a contrast to the Fright Zone and the darker colors found in Horde characters (Hordak, Shadow Weaver, Scorpia, Catra, Entrapta, etc).

So the first kind of contrast was with the Fright Zone standing out as a poisoned/toxic against the bright, lively colors of Etheria and the princesses. Season 5 introduces another take on that contrast as Horde Prime is the opposite, or antithesis of Etheria’s colorful life. He’s like anti-life with his shades of light-and-dark grays on white, and only glow-green as an accent. In some cultures and religious traditions, white is associated with purity, and in others it is associated with death.

When Horde Prime ‘purifies’ Hordak for the sins of individuality and emotion (emotion for others, for his own sake), Hordak is drained of the colors he chose for himself during exile. In addition to being a contrast to Horde Prime (and informed by the 80s cartoon design), Hordak’s dark blue (or blue-black) and red color palette reflects the traditional use of red as a color for evil (especially vampirism) from back when diabolism was a stand-in for ‘the Devil’ in many forms of visual media (comics, live-action, animation, etc). In place of diabolic red, Horde Prime has toxic glow-green.

I absolutely love the use of the glow-green accents. Color trends for villains and significations of evil come and go, and I’m glad to see the color green be used again, and used so well. The last time I saw that shade of glow-green used so well was in Sleeping Beauty (re: Maleficent’s magic and the orb on her staff) and as the Loc-Nar in Heavy Metal. In both films, there are connotations of evil as a poisonous and corrupting influence. Green, in the context of evil, almost always signifies poison (and sometimes envy). I also like that the glow-green color is used in ways that aren’t immediately saying ‘this is evil’, such as the green baptismal waters and flames from the purification scene, or the green amniotic protein fluid. The language of piety and trappings of the sacred can cloak a sinister purpose.

I don’t know if any of that was intentional, but Horde Prime feels like the perfect synergy of purity and death (which has additional connotations, but that’s a very personal interpretation).

(2) Horde Prime immediately gave me subtle cult vibes in his first cameo (Season 3), and the follow-through on that was perfect and exactly what I was hoping to see. The background music throughout the scenes aboard the flagship fits well (love the soundtrack), and has the quality of Ecstatic Experience without pulling directly from any specific religion. Horde Prime’s dialogue is a delightful bit of narcissism veiled with the language of piety.

A purity cult comprised of clone-brother-worshippers of the cult’s founder-prophet-god-king reinforces that narcissism and has all the fun-dark feels of shiny-techno-future-dystopias. It is also an interesting use of clones, especially in a story format that usually never has the time to really dive into the complexities of cloning. This is the sort of thing that you’d be more likely to see in a one-off episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation, rather than the basis for a greater scope villain, or multi-season nemesis. (and yes, Star Trek: TNG had an interesting clone episode)

Clones in science-fiction tend to fall into just a few tropes, and I generally dislike seeing clones show up in a story because the execution nearly always feels sloppy (in small ways or big ways). I did not get that feeling from She-Ra, where, the clones occupy the “cog in the machine” trope, but it is not their existence as clones that make them that way, it is the Will of Horde Prime that does. They are simultaneously expendable and sacred in their unity. It’s a nice flip on “stronger by working together” that Adora and the others have to learn (and struggle) to do.

It seems like, despite their religious programming, the clones have a little bit of their own personalities until Horde Prime ‘inhabits’ them to exert his Will. I’m trying not to read too much into it, b/c what comes across as ‘inhabits’ to me (especially with the religious/cult context), was probably meant more literal like described in the dialogue as a hive-mind control kind of thing. The first time it happens—to post-wipe/death Hordak—felt to me like a possession scene from The Exorcist, but without the kind of horror visuals that would scare both adults and children. The quick-and-subtle amount of body contortion and sound is still gross and creepy (because it should be), but it also reminds me of Ecstatic Experience in the form of speaking in tongues, or snake handling, or being a medium for a spirit. Again, I’m not saying any of that is intentional, but that’s how I see it.

(3) Finally, there is Entrapta, Hordak, and Wrong Hordak. Clones rarely get to be ‘humanized’ through friendship or romance arcs. I can think of a dozen or more robots that get to be humanized in that way, but can’t recall any clones that have (excluding doomed clones whose friendship/romance only existed for the sake of selling the tragedy of their death). Hordak gets death, renewal, and romance in a way that worked really well, and the totality of it is unique. I was a bit surprised that they could work in another clone—and I love Wrong Hordak—who pulls triple-duty as (1) comedy; (2) relevant to moving various pieces of the story along; and (3) more humanizing of the clones, which, again rarely happens as most stories take the easy low road when it comes to clones.

For Entrapta’s part, she’s never put in the position of giving up who she is (‘weird’ by many standards) for a romance. Her passion for technology is both an amusing double entendre at times, and integral to who she is. A romance for Entrapta does not replace her passion for technology, she can have both. Dating myself but, I came up in a time where most media (for children or adults) would rob a woman of her agency or passions during the resolution of a romance arc. Maybe times have changed, but it’s still nice to see none of that nonsense happening here.

#catradora #entrapdak #spop #spop meta #spop asks #ask me anything #spop s5 spoilers

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the-awkward-outlaw · 5 years

Text

A New Adventure - Pt. 2

Proceeding Genesis

Warnings: none

Masterlist

Read on AO3

Getting Arthur to the doctor’s is no easy task. Walking back to your small home, he’s distracted by everything: the houses, the lawns, cars parked on the street. Everything is foreign to him.

He keeps asking where the horses are and you explain horses and carriages have been replaced by automobiles and that people stopped using horses as a main mode of transportation back in the 1920s.

Your dog Sage is in love with the cowboy. She keeps sniffing him and licking his hand as you walk home. He thinks she’s adorable and keeps patting her head.

Arthur patiently waits in your yard while you put Sage in your house and grab your car keys and wallet. You try thinking about how to get him meds when he’s not insured or even licensed in modern forms.

Getting Arthur into the car is almost a joke. He’s fascinated by your car (a small sedan) and can’t believe this little machine replaced horses and buggies. He’s even more surprised when you tell him it can go over 90 miles an hour. He states he can’t even fathom how fast that is.

He finally sits down in the front leather passenger seat. You turn on the seat warmer out of habit and he finds it weird to have his back and butt being warmed by a chair rather than the other way around.

You start playing a rather neutral playlist of some movie scores so as not to shock him too much. He can’t understand how your phone tells your car what kind of music to play. You tell him what little you know about Bluetooth and he scoffs. “Waves I cannot see,” he says, just like he does in the game with that Marco Dragic guy. You suppress a smile.

He’s in awe when the car moves and how smooth of a ride it is. You try not to speed (you have a horrible habit of not sticking to the speed limit. Common problem in Utah), so that the speed won’t startle him or make him sick. He can’t understand why everyone moves so uniformly, but he also seems to see nothing but chaos in the way the other cars react to the traffic lights.

He asks constant questions about everything he sees, and you debate how much to tell him about things before his brain simply can’t process anything. Shit, if he weren’t already sick, you wouldn’t even be doing this! But observing him at a red light, you see the paleness to his face, the redness in his eyes. He cannot wait anymore.

Once you get to the instacare office, you’re relieved to see your cousin at the desk. She’s a nurse who works here and you’ve been close most of your lives. You pull her aside and tell her without spilling too many details that Arthur needs meds for active TB. She gives you a worried look when you mention he has no insurance, but says she might be able to pull a few strings to put the meds onto yours so the price will be cheaper.

Finally, after talking with her for some time and filling out several forms in which you have to do a lot of guessing, the doc comes out and calls Arthur’s name. Everyone gives Arthur questioning looks, thanks to the fact he’s still in his rugged, dusty clothes.

Arthur gives you a horrified look but you nod and send him on his way. (Author’s note: I know that in realistic situations, they’d give him a TB test that would take two days to develop into a readable outcome, but we’re going to skip that.)

Some time passes and then Arthur comes out with a few slips of paper in his hand. He hands them to you, asking what they are. They’re prescriptions for some very heavy medications, including antibiotics. You finish the last bit of paperwork and thank your cousin again for helping put him on your insurance for this visit.

You drive to the closest grocery store and tell Arthur to stay in the car while you go pick up his meds from the pharmacy. You also firmly tell him not to touch anything, afraid he might accidentally make it so the AC or heater nearly blasts you into space when you come back or he’ll adjust the seats or mirrors or something. He raises his hands to show he won’t touch anything.

You feel kind of bad leaving him alone, but taking him into a grocery store right now with everything else would be a bad thing. Too much stimulation, you think.

When you see how much the meds will cost, you thank God that your insurance provides a spending account to cover meds. You’re also relieved when you see one of the bags has an inhaler in it. The doc must have decided he wasn’t bad enough to need oxygen, not yet anyways. But you know from playing the game he will have a matter of weeks without these medications.

You take Arthur home and then decide, against your better judgement, to let him inside. He promises over and over again that he won’t take advantage of your kindness.

He’s in awe again when he sees the inside of your home. It’s definitely nothing fancy and has the essentials of a modern home, but you remind yourself the homes he’s used to: one room cabins with gas ovens and rickety furniture, sometimes with a loft for the occupants to sleep.

You unpack his meds and figure out what his medication schedule needs to be. You pull out three different large pills and tell him to take them now. You also show him how to work the inhaler and tell him that whenever he feels short of breath or tightening in the chest to use it. You then demand he hand over his cigarettes, throwing them in your trash. He complains, but you tell him the health problems associated with them and how they’ll only make his condition worse.

After he’s taken his meds, you show Arthur your spare bedroom. Your mother used to sleep here when she visited from her home down south, but now that she has her new boyfriend, you hardly see her. Not that you mind, she tends to be a nuisance.

Arthur expresses his gratitude several times. You can see the lost sheep’s look in his eyes still and feel sorry for him. Maybe it would be better if you gave him his meds and sent him back to the cave and to West Elizabeth.

When you suggest this, he automatically turns you down. He’s fascinated by your world and his gang has suffered so much trouble lately, his heart can’t bear what else might come.

It takes a bit of convincing on his part, but you finally decide to let him stay for a few days until he figures out what he wants to do. He thanks you again and offers you a ring as payment. In the game, it must be worth about 8 dollars. Nowadays, probably much more, but you turn him down.

You go out to the kitchen to begin cooking dinner after Arthur gets established in his room. He comes out to watch you and offers to help, but he’s so lost in your small kitchen, you tell him to just sit down at the table.

He does and Sage automatically rests her head on his knee, begging for pets. Arthur seems to be in love already with your dog. Not a surprise, most people do with her.

You cook a quick meal of some Kraft Mac for time’s sake since you do have to get up early and go to work. Arthur’s fascinated by the stove. He finds it strange that every house has an electric stove and oven.

He finds the food you cook even more strange and makes a goofy face after the first bite. It’s obvious he’s not a fan but he graciously eats it without saying a word.

After you clean up dinner, you’d normally go and watch a show before going to bed, but you decide that might not be the best thing to do with Arthur just yet. It’s obvious he’s tired from everything he’s seen today, plus he obviously doesn’t feel good.

You decide to just read a book instead for the night. Arthur stays in your living room, investigating everything. He finds your movie shelf and pulls out a DVD. He opens it. “Is this what books are like these days?”

“What?” you say, coming out of your room and holding a book in your hand. “No, Arthur, that’s a movie. I’ll, um, I’ll show you what a movie is tomorrow. Books still look like this.” You show him the one in your hand.

He takes the book and studies the front cover of The Hunger Games. It’s one of your favorite series and you figure if Arthur wants to read it with you, he might be only semi-lost. He flips open to a random page and reads silently, then he closes it.

“Well, at least that’s one thing that ain’t changed,” is all he says.

You look a bit at his clothes, still rugged and dirty from his adventures. Unfortunately, you’ve no clothes for men except for your dad’s favorite shirt in your cedar chest. He used to wear it a lot before he passed away. You offer to throw his clothes in the washer and also offer him a bath.

He agrees, though you can tell he’s nervous about you seeing him in less than what he’s wearing. You have to reassure him time and time again that you’ve seen more naked people watching TV.

You show him how to work the tub. He’s amazed by how hot water pours from the spout.

He finally gives in and goes into the bathroom, handing you his clothes through the cracked door.

You throw his clothes into the washer, but not after taking a slightly guilty sniff of his shirt. You won’t ever admit it to anyone, but you’ve always wondered what Arthur would smell like. Sure, maybe you harbor a cyber-crush on him, but again it’s not something you’d tell anyone. Especially not him. You smell his shirt and are surprised when it smells like pine and grass.

You throw his clothes into the washer and set a timer on your phone to change it in about 40 minutes.

When you pass the bathroom to go to your bedroom, you can hear Arthur’s deep voice humming a tune you’ve heard him sing when he’s riding his horse. It makes you smile.

After he’s done bathing, he comes out wearing your bathrobe (which barely closes over his broad chest) and a towel wrapped around his waist.

You have to avert your eyes from his chest, trying to hide the blush. He’s blushing too.

He decides to wait in the spare room until his clothes are done. You tell him it’ll be about an hour and a half.

When his clothes are finally finished, you hand them back to him. A few moments later, he opens the door, revealing himself in nothing but his union suit and pants.

You announce you’re going to bed and so you go into your room with Sage. For good measure, you lock the door. You don’t know why you’re so paranoid about Arthur in your house. If he wanted to attack you, he’s had plenty of opportunities to do it. Still, you can’t help but feel a little safer knowing the door’s locked.

It takes you awhile to fall asleep. You hear, through the thin walls of your home, the soft rumble of Arthur as he snores. You wonder what the next few days will bring.

#rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption 2 #red dead fanfic #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur x female reader #arthur morgan x female #arthur morgan x reader #R* Games #rockstar games #I'm awkward #a new adventure

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jflashandclash · 4 years

Text

Tales from Mount Othrys

Alabaster: The Delicate Dance of Chance II

Author’s note: Are you ready for fluff??? ALL THE FLUFF?! And some angst—BUT MOSTLY FLUFF!?

Alabaster didn’t remember much about getting off the stage. He did remember shaking so violently that he feared missing a step on the side stairs. When the crowd swarmed them, he was vaguely aware of Pax warding them off and navigating them through the mass of people.

Axel made some announcement about taking a girl for the first dance and snatched the hand of Charlie—their five year old mascot—who giggled with glee. This caused an uproar—both that Axel was dancing and that he’d picked Charlie as his first partner. Alabaster could practically hear Lucille’s future squeals about how cute it was.

But, that’s all he could recollect. There was a blank spot, where Alabaster must have shut down from the humiliation and horror of being on stage without any warning. Coherence came when Pax shoved Alabaster to the punch table.

With a few comments that Alabaster didn’t hear, Pax diverted the remaining admirers. Several monsters and campers were still glancing their way, and a few of his siblings waved at him enthusiastically. But, this was manageable. This was distant.

Pax shoved a plastic cup of punch into Alabaster’s trembling hand. His touch lingered over Alabaster’s fingers for a moment, likely noticing the quiver. Pax went on his tiptoes to whisper in Alabaster’s ear, as quiet as he could while still being heard over the music. “Your Mist show was amazing.”

Alabaster jerked back.

He wanted to hit Pax. Though, he knew it was misdirected anger. Who he should be hitting was Matthias or Jack, who likely planned the grand entrance on stage. Or—

The music increased in volume, encouraging shouts of delirium. Monsters and campers tangled on the dance floor. Alabaster had never been to a school dance, but this looked like the nightmare version of what he assumed one would be. They were in a gymnasium with a stage on one end. Tables were scattered along the walls for food, drink and loitering. The back had interactive games, like Pin the Sword in the Demigod: Camp Half-Blood Edition. The center was reserved for dancing.

And, in the middle of that dance floor was Axel Pax, bowing to a thrilled, giggling five-year-old. He handed Charlie off to Chris (likely with strict instructions to escort her off the dance floor, least she be crushed by mingling Cyclopes). Then he turned a smile to Lucille. With the smooth demeanor of a vampiric count, he transferred into the next dance. No one was going to say no to the attractive, typically reserved, stoic and heroic character.

The reserved, stoic and heroic character that caused that nonsense on stage. While Alabaster wouldn’t have been up there if it wasn’t for Jack or Matthias, Axel had forced him into panicked improvisation and showmanship.

“I must disgrace Axel Pax,” he growled.

Pax startled. Over the edge of his plastic cup, he said, “I’m not sure what maniacal soliloquy you had internally, but the rest of the audience is still confused.”

Alabaster snorted. “I’m going to punish your brother. Maybe I can tell Lucille to spread the word that he’s looking for a male partner.”

Pax laughed. He set his cup back on the table and drummed his fingers beside it. “Oh, dancing with boys won’t bother him.”

Axel paused twirling Lucille in front of her girlfriend, Echidna. Echidna wasn’t the daughter of Summanus’ (the god of nocturnal thunder’s) real name, but Pax’s nickname caught because of her prickly personality. Despite this, when Axel offered, and Lucille shoved Echidna towards him, she begrudgingly accepted the dance. She shot a quick glance at Charlie. This was incredible progress—she couldn’t get within ten feet of men a year ago or be separated from Charlie for more than a few seconds.

Alabaster tore his eyes from Axel and examined Pax skeptically. From what he’d seen, Axel had all the traits, and the cultural background, to be homophobic.

The thirteen-year-old shrugged. “This isn’t exactly a no dancing with people wearing the same underwear kinda place.”

A preliminary glance around proved there were girls dancing with girls and boys dancing with boys. It was with such commonality that the gesture seemed to mean nothing about their inclination. Alabaster wasn’t sure how that worked here, since that would have been a social taboo in his Cotillion classes.

Pax’s smile became distant and sad as he watched Axel save Echinda from tripping all over herself. Pax leaned against the drink table. “Besides, between the circus and our sister, he had to learn not to care. She was a crossdresser and made sure we were comfortable with all sorts of people.”

Opening up twice in one night, Alabaster mused. They hardly spoke of their siblings, other than that Pax missed them. Their near death experience must have made Pax feel more relaxed around Alabaster. The younger boy seemed to have something on his mind recently. Alabaster often caught Pax zoning out in the laboratory, staring at Alabaster’s sleeve or spell book. Alabaster had wondered if it was for a prank.

The smile on Pax’s lips quirked into a smirk. His eyes focused back on the present. “Axel doesn’t favor dancing with boys though, unlike me,” he said, giving Alabaster a wink.

Alabaster snorted. “Stop messing around.”

Pax looked away and popped his cheeks. He straightened his posture, released the table, and turned towards Alabaster. “I want to have fun at this party. Your whole vengeance on my brother for ambiguous reasons—”

“Humiliating me—”

“--that’s villainy and great and stuff, but I don’t want you on it all night. You’ve got his weakest link right here.” Pax pointed both his thumbs at himself. “But I’m not going to help you brainstorm ideas unless you really try to have fun tonight. Now let’s go stuff our faces with Nachos and show Morpheus how to really dance.”

Alabaster stared at him. “We have two different definitions of ‘fun.’ The most probable outcome to incur enjoyment is seeking vengeance.”

Pax pouted. He glanced down the refreshments table. “You’re my babysitter. I going to make a bee line to the first nut-based desert I see and shove it into my mouth if we don’t go play on Matthias’ Wii , and it’ll be your fault.”

“I won’t save you from anaphylactic shock if you do that,” Alabaster said. He frowned. Pax would be integral to bringing Axel down. And they were stuck here for at least another hour-and-a-half.

“What’s the best game on Matthias’ Wii ?” Alabaster asked.

***

Alabaster wanted to complain about Mario Party’s reliance on a random number generator and how it devalued the skill level of the player, but that would require him to admit he relied on that random number generator to win. When playing against actual gamers like Matthias and Chris, he knew there would be little hope in him winning in something like Super Smash or Tekken.

Out of the games they played, his favorite was poker. All magic was legal. He won Pax ten Reese’s Sticks before Prometheus came over and threatened his reigning championship. Alabaster’s “pallor tricks” didn’t seem to work as well on the Titan and Prometheus’s bluffing skills were godly. Well, titanly.

Pax decided Prometheus’s impending win meant he needed to eat all of his candy at once, something Alabaster suspected he’d regret in about ten minutes.

Once the Cyclops bouncer wrestled the last six Reese’s Sticks from Pax, he hopped to Alabaster’s side. His brown and hazel eyes twinkled while he rubbed the chocolate and peanut butter off his chin.

Alabaster didn’t realize he’d been smirking with each his wins. Between Pax’s excitement and cheering and Alabaster’s strategizing, he’d forgotten where they were.

Pax snagged Alabaster’s sleeve. “Come on!” he cried before Prometheus could gloat. The tuxedo-wearing Titan spread his long, thin fingers over the cards as Pax dragged Alabaster away from the table.

Once they stumbled from the game sector, Pax stopped short. He gave Alabaster a huge grin, pulling up his shirt to reveal two Reese’s Sticks hidden along his beltline.

Alabaster snorted. “I’m surprised you didn’t steal more.”

Pax winked and dropped his shirt. “We could go back for round two later. For now…” He took a few steps further onto the dance floor, tugging Alabaster’s sleeve again.

Alabaster’s tranquility shattered. He stared at Pax, listening to the thud of the subwoofer and watching the mass of bodies moving behind the Belizean boy.

Alabaster hadn’t realized it, and he would never admit to it, but he’d been having fun. At the thought of merging into that flowing blob of people, monsters, sweat, and social anxiety, fun evaporated. Cold sweat formed on his brow.

“No,” he said, yanking his arm back from Pax.

The younger boy’s pout returned. “I’m going to make you a shirt that says that.”[1]

They stood there, others swirling around them. Someone bumped their shoulders while running by, shouting, “Don’t be lame and have no shame! Warlock, creep out of your lair, dance, and have fun!”

His face went hot with humiliation. When Alabaster raised his wrist to check the time, he found his fist clenched. An hour had passed while they were playing games. Had the passerbyer’s mockery not bothered him so much, he might have marveled over how fast the first hour went. He assumed it would be agonizing.

But, he could tell the next hour would be much worse. He thought about his laboratory and how much he could get done while everyone else was out. After the Roman attack, everyone should have been working to move and restore the building, not throwing a party “in their honor.”

“This is just a thinly veiled excuse for everyone to feel good about acting like idiots,” Alabaster said. “And a waste of time.”

Alabaster couldn’t remember how Pax got him to play along with this stupid party. Then, it came back: Axel forcing him into showmanship. The humiliation turned to anger. He didn’t need the younger Pax brother to concoct something against Axel. “I’m heading back to camp,” Alabaster said.

He turned to leave. Pax frantically grabbed his arm. “Wait!” Pax shouted. “Wait—we were having—you’re my babysitter! I’ll choke on tree nuts and get kidnapped by bad guys if you’re not around!”

Considering Pax’s ward, Jack, was a schizophrenic with a history of attacking his family, Alabaster thought his concept of “bad guys” was a bit skewed.

Alabaster scowled. “Ajax, you’re thirteen. You’re too old for a babysitter. Grow up.”

Pax’s eyes widened. The rims reddened. He blinked rapidly and looked away. “We don’t have to dance,” he whispered.

Alabaster yanked his arm back again. “This isn’t dancing. This isn’t music. This is a group of unskilled buskers following a formula to produce ‘musical’ garbage because people don’t know how to express their hormones without it.”

Shock wove their mouths shut.

Musical garbage.

Someone else had said that around Alabaster. He remembered sitting in the back of the family’s Mercedes Bends, visiting his father in the hospital. The chauffer cheerfully turned on music for them. His grandfather fired the chauffer, saying what Alabaster had said: that this type of music was a cheap replica of what real musicians could create.

Just like his grandfather thought Alabaster’s magic was a cheap replica of science that couldn’t save his father.

Alabaster couldn’t believe he’d quoted that horrible man verbatim.

At the “buskers” comment, Pax flinched. Although they’d never told Alabaster directly, Alabaster had guessed that Axel and Pax busked, or illegally street preformed, to get by before Camp Othrys. And Alabaster just used it as an insult.

“Ajax,” Alabaster unfroze his tongue, “I’m sorr—”

Pax turned and bolted into the mass of dancers, towards the stage. A couple nearby exchanged a confused glance at his passing and looked over at Alabaster.

“Ajax!” Alabaster called. Although every cell in his nervous system wanted to reel backwards, he shoved past the couple to go after his friend.

After taking ten steps forward, Alabaster realized that finding Pax would be impossible. There were too many people, too much movement, and Pax was too small and conniving. Considering how many monsters and demigods were over six feet tall, the five-foot-nothing demigod could vanish.

This was irrational. Alabaster shouldn’t worry. Pax was in a safe environment, surrounded by friends, and didn’t actually need a babysitter. They would meet back up later, after both of them had time to let off some steam, and Alabaster could explain that he didn’t mean what he said and that Alabaster had only said those words because he… because he…

Is so incompetent at relaxing, I couldn’t rationally explain my anxiety before snapping.

Alabaster didn’t want to wait to check up on Pax. He despised the thought of making someone feel the way his grandfather used to make him feel. Worse for Pax: what if his and Axel’s father didn’t approve of their street performance? Alabaster didn’t know what nerves he’d struck, and not knowing meant he couldn’t mentally prepare for what damage he’d done.

There were too many people, too close. The music had grown louder as Alabaster made his way towards the stage. The subwoofer rattled him internally. Alabaster felt clammy. With all the laughter and joy whirling around him, he felt isolated and sick. Especially with the stares of confusion at his rushed passing.

A sense of hopelessness threatened to overwhelm him when the music quieted.

With the weirdest transition he’d ever heard, the thud of electronic wound down, like the music itself was dying. The DJ, a dark-haired Titaness wearing a modernized toga-dress, cleared her throat in the echo of the mic. The Eldest muse—Mnemosyne’s voice was silky. “Ladies and Gentlemen, Monsters and Ghouls, we have our first good request of the night!”

Pax withdrew from the raised DJ booth and hopped back to the floor, only three yards away.

After the chime of bells, the calming sound of a stringed orchestra flooded the speakers, soon accompanied by a wind instrument—probably a flute.

Several demigods groaned. One or two whined. Alabaster was horrified at what Pax had done to the rest of the party’s occupants and whether or not Mnemosyne had been mocking him.

Then, all the monsters cheered.

“I love the oldies!” Dr. Thorn, their local manticore, exclaimed. He ejected two spikes into the air in celebration, grabbed a Scythian dracaena, and began the elegant twirl of the waltz. Alabaster didn’t want to know where those spikes would land.[2]

Alabaster would hardly call Tchaikovsky an “oldie” but he marveled that these monsters were eternal and their concept of time differed from their own.

While several half-bloods exited the dance floor, a flood of monsters entered. Jack dragged a rather inebriated-looking Luke out to spin with him. Chris and Matthias hopped by, paused, grabbed hold of each other with mock-serious expresses on their faces, and began a goofy, sloppy shamble.[3] Prometheus ruffled Pax’s hair and said, “Good choice,” before bowing to Mnemosyne.

Their DJ grinned, set her headphones to the side of the sound table, and hopped down from the booth.

In an empty space of floor, Lucille giggled. She kicked off her high heels, hopped up to her toes, and began to dance point, her flowy skirt mimicking the motions of a ballerina’s tutu.

Near the food tables, where most of the confused demigods had gone to stand, Axel bowed to Mercedes, offering their Spymaster his hand. Mercedes tucked her embroidered hijab tighter against her chin. She gave Axel a coy smile and flicked him off with her other hand.

Axel must have just finished dancing with Lou Ellen. She stood beside Mercedes, still bright red in the face from the dance. Alabaster was already annoyed with the inevitable week of Lou Ellen’s squealing. She glanced at Mercedes, glared at the older girl—from jealousy or aghast at Mercedes’ refusal, Alabaster couldn’t care to tell—and shoved her forward, hard.

Mercedes stumbled forward into Axel’s arms, adding a second forced dance to Axel’s count for the night.

With all the commotion around them, Alabaster approached Pax. He paused a foot away from him. “Why’d you pick this song?” he asked.

Pax rubbed his face against his forearm, sniffling back the last of his choked tears. “You—you play it a lot when you think other people aren’t around.”

Alabaster unclenched his fist. “It was my grandmother’s favorite scene from Swan Lake.” One of his favorite memories: when she was alive, she would hum along as she stained glass in the piano room. His grandfather hated that she used the room like that, but she claimed it had the best lighting.

“If you were going to leave, I wanted to make sure you at least liked the last song playing before you left,” Pax said. He looked away, hugging himself.

All the tension eased out of Alabaster. He sighed and wasn’t sure if he was more relieved that Pax had stopped crying or annoyed that Pax had beat him—Alabaster couldn’t leave with such a considerate act.

“How many people know how to waltz here, you think? That aren’t monsters, I mean. It might be hard to find a partner,” Alabaster said.

Pax took a step closer. He puffed up his cheeks, popped them, then quietly said, “I know how to waltz.” He offered a trembling hand out, palm down in the female partner position, to Alabaster.

Alabaster stared. Slowly, he glanced to where Jack and Luke were dancing and Chris and Matthias were… he refused to call that a dance, but awkwardly shambling. It wouldn’t be too weird, right? Everyone knew Luke was a ladies’ man, and Jack and Flynn were a “thing,” and Chris and Matthias were just joking…

And Lucille, after all, was doing a ballet pas seul with a cheering circle around her like she was break dancing.

Alabaster exhaled and took Pax’s hand. He slipped his other hand under Pax’s arm, and positioned it on Pax’s shoulder blade. Pax violently shook as he lowered his free arm atop Alabaster’s. Pax was the perfect height for this, being a foot shorter than Alabaster.

That busker comment must have stung Pax worse than Alabaster thought. To have him shaking like this? He frowned, taking a slow step forward with his left foot. He expected Pax to stumble and mix up his footing. Instead, Pax flawlessly stepped back with his right foot.

They started with a basic box step. He wasn’t sure how much Pax would remember from his Cotillion classes or how easily Pax would be able to reverse the footwork to follow instead of lead. When Alabaster added in a rotation to their box step, and then lifted his elbow and their hands to properly shape their posture, Pax continued perfectly. When Alabaster began to go up on his toes for the “2 and 3” count of the waltz, then down onto his heels for the “1,” to give the rise and fall effect of the dance, Pax mirrored the footwork. By the time Alabaster added in the swing and sway to make the dance have a rolling effect—raising his rib cage when they went to the side, or tilting his body when they went forward or back—his curiosity had peaked.

“You know how to follow really well,” Alabaster observed.

The fluid and repetitive movement of the dance calmed Alabaster. This was a familiar environment. The only unusual part was dancing with a boy. Though… he supposed he’d danced with his male instructor when he was learning.

Pax had stopped shaking. Now that they were in a rhythm, Alabaster could glance down to see if Pax still had tears in his eyes.

The younger boy was staring at Alabaster’s collar—the only part of posture he wasn’t doing correctly. His cheeks were flushed with the movement and, likely, his prior tantrum. A little grin touched his lips at Alabaster’s comment. “Thanks. You’re really good at leading.” Alabaster raised an eyebrow at him. He’d been expecting some stupid, witty retort.

Pax glanced up. His blush deepened and his eyes shot back down to Alabaster’s collar. “Oh! Um—Lapis and I—my sister—we used to switch places on our Cotillion teacher. Axel, Hiro, and Kouta would play along, altering our names and pronouns to fit according to the day. The instructor never knew if which one of us was a guy or a girl, and she was too scared of getting in trouble for mixing it up to ask Dad. As long as we learned both parts, she didn’t care.”

That sounded exactly like something the Pax brothers would do.

Examining Pax’s facial structure, Alabaster could see how the instructor could mistake Pax for a girl. He had all the features to make a convincing crossdresser: with Pax’s wild, raven hair spilling all over his shoulders, his rounded face, button nose, wide eyes, squishy cheeks, and full lips. He was a little too muscular to pass for the average woman, but Alabaster had seen some ripped female demigods and wouldn’t be shocked if Pax’s sister—Lapis?—were similar.

With the baggy, punk-style jacket he wore, Alabaster could easily imagine Pax as some flat-chested girl half-drowned in her friend’s borrowed clothing.

And with the thought, Alabaster felt his chest constrict. For some reason, he felt horrendously uncomfortable.

Alabaster spun Pax out for an underarm turn.

Nothing would change if Pax were a girl. Then, she would just be Axel’s annoying little sister, instead of an annoying little brother—one that followed Alabaster around the laboratory, cheered when he succeeded in one of his experiments, made him hand-crafted presents, and was always ready with a goofy, lame joke to try to make him laugh.

Why couldn’t Alabaster shake the idea that something would be different?

The song would come to an end soon. Alabaster recognized the crescendo. He hadn’t realized until then that they’d danced through two songs—now it was the Waltz of the Snowflakes. Mnemosyne must have a Tchaikovsky Waltz playlist.

Although the last two songs had been relaxing, Alabaster was eager for the end. Something felt off and he didn’t know why. It wasn’t the same anxiety as before. No, he’d almost forgotten about the others—

Alabaster glanced around, finding Jack had stopped dancing to watch them.

Alabaster released Pax’s hand and took a step back half-a-second sooner than he should have according to the music. Pax stumbled, not ready to stop following.

That goofy smile on Pax’s face widened. “It’s okay. I also get distracted thinking about life, the universe, and everything, and forget how to end a dance.”

“Nice song choice, Ajax,” someone said beside them.

Alabaster jumped, having forgotten how many people were around them.

Mnemosyne climbed back into her DJ booth. The throb of electronic and modern pop thudded back into the gym. Bored demigods cheered. Dancing monsters grumbled.

Axel stood near them, one hand still on Mercedes’ shoulder blade. Although he’d lowered their hands from the dance, his other hand still held hers. He continued talking to Pax, giving Mercedes a half-smirk that would have made half the girls in the gym faint. “You helped me find the best dance partner in Camp Othrys,” he said.

Mercedes did not look amused. Her expression was as deadpan as ever. A lock of curly black hair had escaped the corner of her embroidered fabric. He had to wonder if Lucille forced her into some makeup. Mercedes typically wore the simplest, plainest, and most practical clothing she could, without make up or hair accessories other than her veil.

“Pax One,” she said to the older of the two, “you found a temporary victim of circumstance that is now going to ruin Matthias’ life in Tekken. If you’ll excuse me.” She bowed her head, as though about to vanish into shadow after a spy mission. For a split second, he thought she frowned at Pax.

“Uh-hu,” Axel said. As soon as she removed her hands, he took a step after her. “If I win a round of Tekken against you, I win another dance.”

Pax stared at his older brother. “Axel, you’re awesome and everything, but you’re going to get obliterated.”

Mercedes’ head didn’t move as her eyes shifted between the two brothers. “Listen to Pax Two. He is wise… unless you’re willing to gamble information on this game.”

The offer sounded like a threat.

Alabaster saw a minor opportunity unfolding.

“If you’re going to do that, you should keep Tran around,” Alabaster suggested, smirking at Axel. “Least someone consider lying.”[4]

Mercedes let a tiny smile slip. “The child of Aletheia, Goddess of Truth. Thanks, Torrington.” She nodded her appreciation. “Are you feeling lucky, Pax One?”

Axel shot Alabaster a glare.

At least he’d successfully started his revenge on the older Mayan.

Pax tugged on Alabaster’s sleeve. “We can worry about Axel’s downfall later. Let’s get some punch and go for a walk!”

“My downfall--?”

“Come on!”

***

In two weeks (hopefully) are you ready for MORE FLUFF!?! …. And angst. AND MORE FL—oh, oh, next week is more on the angst side. *ehem* I see.

I hope you guys enjoyed! Thank you for reading :D

***

Footnotes:

[1] And thus, Grumpy Cat was born.

[2] Technically, our spiky friend should be dead by now, but I didn’t know that when I originally wrote this scene and I enjoy having random spikes reigning on this parade.

Also, this was written to Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake Suite, Op. 20a, TH 219: Act 1: Waltz.

[3] Okay, I’ll finally admit it, my representation of Chris and Matthias’s whole character are based off family members. <3 you guys.

[4] Call out to my home boy, VCRx.

#Tales from Mount Othrys #TFMO #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #PJO #heroes of olypmus #HOO #Alabaster #Pax #Mercedes #Axel #Fluff #FLUFF SO MUCH FLUFF #IT'S LIKE ME CAT MATED WITH A TRIBBLE AND IT ROLLED IN EXCESS SPIDER WEB DECORATIONS #........................................ ew

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samuelkwinchester · 5 years

Text

14.11 - Sister!Winchester

Warnings: Language, Gore (kind of?), Mentions of rape, Unwanted touching (isn’t super detailed and doesn’t get very far, but please avoid if easily triggered).

Summary: Hope Winchester is Sam and Dean’s little sister from a different mom. This takes place during the events of season 14 episode 11, “Damaged Goods,” when Dean visits his mother and Nick is searching for her so that he can get revenge. Unfortunately, Hope gets caught in the crossfire between Nick and his obsession to find who killed his family

(I know that the picture is not from the episode, but bear with me. Also, it is not mine)

Enjoy :)

“Sam, I’m worried about Dean…” I whispered into the phone.

“What’s wrong, Hope?” Sammy asked, his breath hitching in his throat.

“Dean is getting real close with Mar- mom. Plus he’s been in the shed for almost an hour now. There’s a lot of noise going on. I think it’s a blowtorch and maybe some sort of power saw? I don’t know. Either way, he had a lot of books with him. And that’s really not like him. You know that, Sam. He’s just not himself. I mean, I know with Michael being stuck in his head and all, but really thi-”

“Hope. Breathe.” Sam commanded through the phone. “It’s gonna be okay. I’ll be over in maybe four hours, give or take. Stay there, stay alert, and stay safe. You have your phone, so call me if you need me. I’ll be there soon, okay?”

“O-okay.” I said shallowly. The phone went dead.

I got up from my curled up position on my bed. The sun had gone down, and the room was no longer visible. I shivered, remembering what dad had said about the dark. My feet touched the cold, bedroom floor. I carefully guided myself toward the lightswitch, finding the panel, and switching it on.

The floor was pristine, obviously hadn’t been walked on in at least a few months. I looked in the mirror next to the doorway. There I stood, dressed in a simple pair of light denim ripped jeans (which Sam and Dean gave me a lot of crap for), a black short-sleeved undershirt, and a red and black flannel. My socks were black, warm, and fuzzy. Dean got them for me around Halloween, when the weather started to get cold.

I quickly looked away from the mirror, and walked into the hallway, down the wood stairs. I walked into the kitchen, smelling something greasy and… familiar?

“Hope!” Dean smiled at me from the kitchen. “You hungry? Mom and I were making and old favorite- Winchester Surprise!”

I forced a smile on my face. “Of course! Let me go wash up real quick and I’ll join you guys.” Excusing myself to the restroom, I locked the door and leaned against it, doing the one thing I haven’t done in over a year.

“Castiel? If you are hearing this, I need you to stay where you are. I just wanted to tell you that I’m with Dean and Mary. Dean doesn’t seem to be doing well. He’s not like himself. I just wanted to tell you so that you could keep Jack posted. He deserves to know as much as I do, especially with everything going on right now. I’ll keep you up to date.”

“Jeez, Dean. I can’t believe you remember how I used to feed you and John this dish. It’s so… greasy.” Mary smiled, reliving old memories that I obviously wasn’t apart of.

“How could I forget? I love this stuff.” Dean smiled, stuffing his face with this interesting concoction. Meanwhile, I just picked at my food.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” Mar- mom asked.

“I’m just… Not feeling well. I think I might take a walk. Some fresh air might help.” I said, slowly getting up from the dinner table. Before I could get far, Dean grabbed my hand.

“Don’t forget your gun. I’m not letting you step out of my sight without it, okay? Especially out there.” Dean’s eyes glazed over, and I knew that something was eating him up.

“O-okay. Love you, D.” I said before grabbing my gun from the buffet table. Putting the gun in my waistband, I slipped my boots on and walked out the door.

The woods were somewhat of a sanctuary- especially where I’m from. I was raised in Seattle before Sam and Dean found me. Dad was on a case there and met my mom. I was conceived the night they met. Then Dad up and left, but came around for the few birthdays I had (before he died) and the occasional Christmas or Halloween (again, very few). I wasn’t completely special to him, but I was his child. And there was still love given to me from him.

He’d tell me about my brothers before I had even met them. He said that Sammy was a genius going to college so that he could do something with his life besides ‘the family business’- which was what he would call it back then. Dean was described as the legacy of the family, the one who would continue the business.

I hadn’t met them before John died.

Sam and Dean had barged into my house the night my mom died. I was five years old when the demon was killed. That’s when I started touring with the Winchester duo, and I contributed as the final part to the trio. I went through it all with them but stayed with Bobby a lot. When Mary came into the picture, I didn’t know how to react. She wasn’t my mom, but I was Sam and Dean's sister. She accepted me as her own early on, and I love her for it, but I’m still adjusting.

As I walked away from the cabin, I noticed headlights in the distance. I had a bad feeling about it, but I walked away. I knew I would regret it, but I didn’t just how much.

Continuing into the woods, I thought about Dean. What was he doing in the barn? Building something maybe? Or was he just releasing some pent up feelings? Either way, something was up, and I knew there was something he was keeping from me. I know he was possessed by apocalypse Michael, but he knows that at one point I was possessed by Michael from this world. I may not have been possessed for long, but it was still hell. I can remember that much. Especially because Michael only talked about wanting to use my brothers so that he could kill his own. He messed with my head too, and Dean doesn’t realize it. I want him to know I’m here. I need him to know I’m here. He shouldn’t go through this alone. He didn’t let me go through it alone.

I heard sirens coming from the dirt road, which made me feel a little safer but also a little more on edge. I didn’t think there was anything obviously wrong, so it was a shock to know the van was being looked for.

I quickly returned to the road, the cabin nowhere in sight, and turned to see Donna and… Nick? They were fighting, and for a moment it looked like Donna had the upper hand. Then Nick pulled the taser out from nowhere and tazed Donna. I froze, not knowing what to do. I could yell, but that would bring attention to myself. I watched as Nick effortlessly lifted Donna, and put her in the cop car. As he finished up, he turned around and locked eyes on my distant figure.

My blood ran cold- and not because it was near 40 degrees.

I had heard about a killer roaming around the Pike Creek area in Delaware, but I didn’t put two and two together. I should have known- I should have said something.

Nick started to walk towards me, and my body kicked into fight or flight mode.

I started with a jogging pace, getting away from Nick. I started to sprint as I heard a clicking noise. While trying to run in a zig-zag pattern I heard a ‘boom’ and then pain spread throughout my hip. I cried out, the pain was sudden and unforgiving. As I fell, I could feel the blood staining my clothes and my waist. My left hand moved to the wound so I could attempt to stop some bleeding. Everything was in slow motion. I hit the ground with a hard ‘thud’, my head spinning. The pain was almost unbearable, but I’ve had worse. I heard running footsteps and I knew he was coming for me. I took my hand off of the wound and pushed myself back up. I suppressed a groan as I put pressure on my leg, which traveled to my hip. I started to run towards the cabin, praying that I could make it before I either bled out or Nick caught me.

I could see lights, indicating I was close to Dean. Maybe not as close as I’d like, but it was something. Hope filled my veins and pushed me forward. I was so close to being home, so close to having the upper hand in this fight, so close to telling Dean that it was going to be okay. That I was going to be there for him.

Until I wasn’t close anymore.

Hands traveled to my hips, grabbing hard and intentionally pressing against my damaged hip. I choked out a quiet sob. I was caught, and I couldn’t see the light in this situation anymore. I wasn’t just scared- I was terrified. Nowhere left to go.

Game over.

“Where do you think you’re going, princess?” Nick sneered into my ear, obviously rubbing his victory into my face.

“Fuck. You.” I growled. I began to get defensive. I knew that he didn’t need me for anything, but he didn’t want his cover blown either. The worst outcome was that I’d be killed right now, leaving Dean with Michael and without Mary. I’m praying that he doesn’t go down that road.

“Feisty, huh? We can fix that real quick,” Nick pushed harder onto the bullet hole decorating my hip. I hissed at him. “Okay. That didn’t work… I could try something else. Something I remembered from when I was shacked up with Lucifer…”

Okay, I was wrong. Being killed wasn’t the worst scenario.

Nick ran his other hand, the one not putting pressure on my hip, down to my thing and squeezed just slightly. He started to move up, and he pressed up against me. He stopped right before he reached a place I definitely didn’t want him to touch.

“We have two options, Little Winchester. Either you give up, or I bring up some repressed memories. Some that haven’t seen the light of day since they were scarred into your pretty little head. But hey, it’s your choice.” Nick taunted.

My mind was racing a million miles per second. I felt dizzy and nauseous. I actually thought about throwing up on his shoes, but I don’t think I could aim for them. But in all seriousness, my mind was at war with itself. I didn’t want to just give up and be submissive, but I couldn’t risk being killed, or worse.

“Alright. I’ll behave. But you have to promise me something.” I said with the strongest voice I could come up with.

“And… What would that be, Hope?” Nick grinned against my ear.

“Keep Dean and Mary alive. They don’t need to be killed.” I was practically begging and he knew it.

“Okay. We have a deal.” He smiled as he took his hand off my thigh.

I let out a sigh of relief, before suddenly being spun around and lifted over his shoulder. He turned and walked towards the van. The back door of the van was opened and I was shoved inside. I held in a cry as I somehow landed on my hip (just my luck). Next thing I knew the van doors were slammed shut, and my vision was fading fast. My last thoughts were dedicated to my brothers, praying that they’d find me or move on if they didn’t, before I blacked out entirely.

*2nd POV*

“-Dean, he’s going after your mom,” Donna sighed into the phone.

“He who?” Dean asked, feeling very confused yet on guard.

“Uh, some guy named Nick.” Donna finally spit out, and Dean acted immediately.

Dean ran outside after hanging up with Donna, gun in hand. He was going to find that bastard before he found Mary. He walked out of the bushes and onto the dirt road, taking a faster pace. Sticks were broken behind him, and in less than a second his gun was cocked and pointed to whoever was behind him.

“Dean! Woah, easy!” Sam yelled, clearly not wanting to get shot by his brother. “Dean, what’s going on here?”

“It’s Mom,” he rasped. “She’s gone.”

Mary awoke in the van, her head pounding. Her head was resting on something… soft? She slowly opened her eyes to see the ceiling of the van. She pushed herself up and turned to see Hope laying on the floor, bleeding at a steady pace.

“Oh god!” Mary yelled. “Help!”

She scanned the back for anything that could stop the bleeding. She found an old cloth and some alcohol. Perfect. After she shredded the cloth, she poured alcohol onto it and tied it tight around Hope's waist, making sure that it was covering and putting pressure on the wound. Hope shot up, eyes wide open, and fear evident in her eyes.

*1st POV*

I shot up, my eyes wide open, and my heart beating out of my chest. I took in a shaky breath and saw Mary leaning over me.

“Oh, thank god.” She said, tears rolling down her face.

“Hey, Mary.” I croaked out. Smiling, she helped me sit up against her.

The back door swung open, and Nick was standing there with a smirk on his face. I’m not entirely sure why he needed Mary, but I could tell that whatever the reason, it wasn’t good.

“Morning, Ladies!” Nick sang, before hopping into the back with us. Mary pushed me to the far corner, trying to get me as far away from Nick as possible. “Oh, come on, Mary! I wasn’t going to do anything… yet…” He smiled viciously.

“Alright, what do you want?” Mary asked, clearly not happy with the situation she was in.

“You know… The demons, they know where you are,” Nick said, taking a seat across from me. “They keep track of you, you and your kids. They’re sort of scared of you. So wherever you are, they’re not. So that’s how I got to Hibbing. I didn’t have an address. Luckily, that- that perky little sheriff lady- what’s her name? Deborah? Debbie? Something? Whatever. She had some emails on her cellphone talking about you and her family cabin, so here I am.” Mary just glared at him while he rambled.

“I know that’s a lot to take in, but… And if you feel like screaming, you can- you can go ahead cause we’re pretty remote…”

“Nick,” Mary started. “What are you doing?”

Nick got up suddenly and moved right next to me as I flinched. Mary looked slightly afraid, but kept it in knowing that I was watching.

“Tonya Baker,” Nick began. “Yeah, you knew her. You saved her life. Her whole girl scout troop was murdered and she was the only survivor, thanks to you. These two demons were about to finish her off, and then you came in and chased one away but you faced off against the other one, a demon named Abraxas.”

“I remember. So?” Mary snapped.

“So? Abraxas murdered my family the same way he killed those girls- bloody, brutal, slow.” Mary's face fell at his confession, and even I felt bad.

“I’m sorry, Nick,” Mary started. “But you could have just asked me. This, shooting Hope, this is cr-”

“Crazy?” Nick asked, finishing her sentence. “What would you have told me?”

“That I killed him!” Mary raised her voice. “Abraxas is dead.”

“So you would have lied to me?” My eyes widened at his statement. “You didn’t kill him, you trapped him in a box. How’d you do it?”

Mary stuttered. Nick grabbed her coat and shook her. “Tell. Me.”

“Okay, okay. We put him in an Enochian box. He’s contained.”

“Do you have him?” Nick asked, clearly done with beating around the bush.

“No… but I can take you to him.”

Dean and Sam were pacing, waiting for a response from Donna’s radio. Dean was beyond worried. When Sam and him got back, Dean immediately went upstairs to look for Hope. He was praying that she got back while he was sleeping, but when he opened the door to her room, she wasn’t there, and he lost it. Sam was stunned for a minute but began to worry more and more.

Eventually Donna got a trace, and they sped off to Grand Rapids.

We pulled up to a storage unit that, Mary said, had the box containing Abraxas. Nick pulled Mary out of the van, then me. He pulled me along as I struggled to keep up. Mary unlocked the door, and he pushed her inside first before pulling me in.

“Alright, where is it?” Nick asked. Mary remained silent. “Listen, if you tell me where it is, you and little Winchester get to walk away.”

Mary sighed, obviously struggling with her decisions.

“It’s over there.”

Nick looked around while Mary stood still.

“Where is it?” Nick asked, clearly getting angrier by the minute.

“In the lockers…” Mary said. “Too bad I don’t have the key.”

I smiled a little at how dumb she was playing. I liked her style. Nick shrugged, grabbed a machete, and chopped off the lock, moving into the room with the lockers.

“Which one?” Nick asked. Mary just shrugged, not giving him a clear answer.

Nick grunted and shoved me towards Mary. He started to chop off locks again while Mary helped me keep steady.

“Just sit here, hun. Against the lockers.” I nodded and slid down the lockers onto the floor. I was losing steam, and I didn’t know when Dean or Donna would find us. I was rooting for sooner, rather than later.

“Open the box.” Nick said as I looked up.

“Sorry, but you need a host. It can’t be you, it can’t be me,” She lifted her shirt to show her tattoo. “And, it can’t be Hope.” She lifted up my shirt so he could see the tattoo on my side.

“Well, then I’ll improvise.” Nick said, before leaving.

Nick walked in with the security guard from the post out front. He sat him down and pulled the bag off of his head.

“Nick don’t do this-”

“How do I open this thing?” Nick cut her off.

“I don’t know.” Mary sighed.

Nick turned around while trying to figure out the box, which gave Mary a chance to walk up behind him and kick his knees out from under him. She attempted to grab the dropped box, but Nick got back up and kicked her over while she was laying on the ground. I tried to get up and help, but everything was still spinning, and I couldn’t see who was who at this point. I was useless. So I prayed that it wasn’t too late to save us all.

“I said I could handle it!” Nick yelled as he pushed her up against the fence. Nick continued to mess with the box, but then threw it onto the ground. Nick, frustrated as ever, picked up the drill and drilled into the box. Black smoke came from the black cube and flew right into the security guards' mouth.

“Heya, Blondie.” Abraxis cooed at Mary, then looked my way. “Who’s your cute friend?”

“Why’d you kill my family?” Nick demanded.

“Have to be more specific.” Abraxis smirked, clearly messing around.

“Pike Creek, Delaware.” Nick stated, getting emotional.

“Oh. Nick. Why are you walking and talking? I thought the big man had you on lockdown.”

“He’s dead. Now, why did you kill my family?” Nick raised his voice.

“Kill her first, then we’ll talk.” Abraxas looked towards me. “Mary here locked me in a box and I hold a grudge. But I want her to suffer instead. Kill the girl nice and slow, then maybe we’ll talk.”

Nick looked at me.

“Nick,” Mary started with a grin on her face. But Nick looked serious about going through with it. And I was terrified. “Nick! Don’t do it!”

Nick walked toward me slowly, and suddenly my adrenaline kicked in. I needed to get up and run. I tried pushing myself up, but Nick picked up his pace and pounced on me. He straddled my waist as he bound my arms together.

“You ready to die, little Winchester?” Nick sneered as he prepared his knife. He lifted up the knife, and was about to drive it into my stomach, but a gunshot cut him off.

“GET AWAY FROM HER!” Sam yelled, holding Nick at gunpoint.

Nick cowered away from me, and Dean came rushing over to me. His eyes filled with rage as he released my arms and saw my bloody hip. Sam was helping Mary out of her handcuffs while I tried to stand up against the lockers.

“Hey, De.” I said weakly.

“Hey sweetheart.” Dean smiled slightly, struggling to watch me keep myself up.

“Is she okay?” Sam asked, his voice wavering.

“Not sure, Sammy.” Dean sighed. Sam rushed over and gave me a bear hug. I hissed when he held me tight against him.

“What’s wr-” Sam saw my bloody hip, and his face fell. “No, Hope…”

“I-It’s okay, Sammy. I’ll make it.” I chuckled lightly. Sam gave me a kiss on the forehead before pointing his gun at Nick again.

“What are you doing?” Sam questioned.

“What I have to.” Nick said, before grabbing a knife and scraping off a piece of the devil's trap.

“NO-” We all yelled, before being lifted into the air and slammed onto the floor. I groaned out in pain as the cloth fell off of my hip. More blood started to pour onto the floor.

“You wanna know why I killed your family? I was following orders-” Abraxas started.

“From who?” Nick pressed, not giving up.

“Who do you think? Lucifer.” Abraxas smirked.

“I-I don’t understand.” Nick stuttered. “Why me?!”

“You were chosen, but you’re not special. We threw a dart at a phone book and-”

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica-”

“Stop,” Abraxas said as he forced Dean into one of the storage shelves.

“Dean!” I coughed, looking back to make sure he was okay. He groaned and tried to push himself back up.

“So. Who dies first?” Abraxis asked, before Nick pulled his head back, forced him onto his knees, and stabbed him in the chest.

Nick got up and started swiping at anyone who would come near him.

“Take it easy!” Sam yelled, before Donna shot him in the leg and M- mom knocked him out.

“Payback, bitch.” I choked out a quiet laugh while trying to fight the darkness from taking over.

“Hope!” Sam and Dean yelled, rushing over to me.

“You gotta stay with us, sissy. Okay?” Dean asked, trying to keep me awake.

“N-no pr-omises…” I smirked.

“Even with a bullet in your hip and at least a quarter of your blood on the floor, you’re still a pain in our asses.” Dean chuckled, trying to make light of the situation.

“I try, De.” I smiled, before slipping into the darkness.

I woke up to Dean by my side. I tried to sit up, but my hip was burning.

“Woah. That’s some kick.” I joked, pushing myself up to the headboard. The pain wasn’t nearly as bad, but it still hurt.

“Take it easy, kiddo.” Dean ordered, clearly not messing around. “How are you feeling?”

“Like hell, but I’ll be okay.” I tried to smile, but I just couldn’t. The fight was finally over, and somehow we won. The tears came right after, but I let them fall.

“Hey, it’s okay, sweetheart. It’s over now, I promise.” Dean climbed into the bed with me and held my head against his chest.

“H-he did so much more, De… So much more than just this.” I sobbed.

Sam quietly entered the room while Dean and I sat in silence. He sat down on my other side and kissed my head, letting me know that he was here too.

“W-when he shot me, he… He said he remembered something about me from when Lucifer was possessing him…” I stuttered, more tears flowing but I didn’t care.

“What’d he say, kiddo?” Dean asked, clearly defensive.

“H-he said that he’d use something against me if I didn’t stop fighting him… He moved his other hand to my thigh a-and…” I sucked in a breath, trying to stay calm even though everything in me wanted to scream and thrash. “He made me think he was going to touch me… He knew what had happened to m-me bef-fore… I thought he was going to r-rape me-” I sobbed, wanting to crawl out of my own skin.

“I’m gonna kill him.” Dean growled lowly, getting out of the bed and pacing the floor. “How did he know? Lucifer wasn’t even apart of that… That was another assholes fault…” Deans held his head in his hands.

Sammy comforted me as I continued to sob. My face was buried in his chest, but I didn’t care. Dean sat back down and held me.

“We’re gonna fix this, okay? We’ll get through it together. You’ll always have us. Always.” Sam choked out, trying not to lose it because he wanted to be strong for me.

“We got you, Hope. We love you.”

#supernatural #sister!winchester #the winchesters #winchester sister #damaged goods #dean winchester #sam winchester #mary winchester #season 14 #hope winchester #winchester support

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