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little-nightmare-gt · 3 years

Text

Finding Family

Probably the one and only SMP Minecraft fic I'll make.... probably. Join us with Tommy and Tubbo, two borrowers living out in the wilds. Borrowers, Fae etc. Creatures are rare and sought after by wealthy people. Giants (Humans and some Hybrids) are considered monsters to borrowers, and often feared. Comms are a thing for everyone. @baka-monarch you wanted to be tagged.

Warning: Abandonment, blood, implied burning, growth in small areas, near death experience, near crushed experience, Technoblade.

Tommy and Tubbo weren't bad kids, they were young with no parents. They were taught the rules by strangers who abandoned them the moment they could borrow.

They were born in captivity and sold to a rich child with a fascination with hurting things, if by Tommy's missing wings and Tubbo's scared face had anything to do with it.

People didn't stay with them for long.

Tommy was always too loud and Tubbo too easy, and they only stuck together.

They were a bit upset at being alone but both deemed to not need anyone else.

The two decided to leave and find another place to live, somewhere not many monsters dare to go. The Artic.

Tubbo built their first house, near a tree close but not part of the forest. Tommy began the underground gardening system which Tubbo ended up making it automatic, but continued to make touches and railroad tracks into caves and mines.

They hunted rabbits in the area for meat, and often take from the near by village.

One day though, Tubbo noticed an abandoned cottage near the village and quickly messaged Tommy about it, who immediately agreed to scoping it out for a hideout.

After gathering their supplies for the day, they went to explore the cottage.

There was a small enough crack in the door frame the the two borrowers to slip into. They froze at the large still warm room.

It wasn't dusty, so it couldn't be more than a few days that someone had been there. Tommy was a bit confused about it seeing as he would have noticed someone pass through here.

Tubbo pointed out that they lived near a forest and most people avoid them, but froze at the sound of a clatter.

Tubbo, with the better ears could hear aggressive whispering, "Someone is in my house Phil, the door didn't open, where are they?"

Tubbo nodded to his friend and pulled him closer to the counter and skimmed closer to the wall, taking out his hook, he and Tommy climbed up the counter at his urging.

Tommy made it first seeing three of their kind, "Sup Bitches!"

Tubbo made it up in time to see three grown men jump in fear, examining each one as Tommy talked.

The tallest looked to be a piglin Hybrid, the smaller usually stay in the Nether where their known about and treated equally. He wore a surprisingly nice long sleeve blue shirt and cloak.

The next looked human but his features suggest he's a piglin as well...just more human looking. He wore a similar cloak and shirt and the tall one.

The final man was shorter than Tommy, he had wings which was surprising in itself. That he still kept them after all, he wore a similar shirt but instead of a cloak he was a ponch and a bucket hat. What startled Tubbo, was that he seemed to be studying them like he was them.

There eyes met briefly as Tommy waved his arm in front of him sounding heated, causing him to tone in.

"I'm calling as I see it! The old man's gonna get it if he doesn't stop staring at my friend!"

"For someone so small, why are you so loud? Don't call us pets!" The middle one growled out.

"Where's the monster of this place anyway, we've never noticed anyone coming to and from here." Tubbo interrupted.

He watched the tallest flinch as the shortest puffed up angrily ready to defend their owner when Tommy interrupted, "Tubs, they could be one of those people."

Tubbo flinched, and looked at the older men, "Surely Not, Big Man, something is off about them but we can leave if you want."

"What! After you insult us! What kinds of people!?"

"Monster apologists, their pets who do anything for their Master. Even capture more of our kind, we've been here to long, let's go." Tommy led the way, leaving the shocked men on their counter top.

Tubbo stares at them, "Do you not have a rope to climb down? I didn't see and ledges and stuff to move around on."

The shortest still glared but it soften a bit, "I can get us down, where do you live? Can we visit?"

Tubbo looked down at Tommy as his friend shook his head no, "We'll visit you."

The kid jumped, catching the rope instead of plummeting to his doom. The three men looked over the ledge with eyes in shock as Tubbo pulled his hook down.

Tommy grinned up, "Have fun with your Monster folks!"

His friend yanked him along as the middle one made offended noises, something not sitting right as they squeezed through the door and made their way home.

"Tommy, I think they were in captivity. They didn't know how to react to us and two of them were piglin Hybrids, they probably got sold."

"Poor blokes, we'll visit them tomorrow, I'll apologize to them too." He didn't want to, but even he was a victim of only knowing monsters.

Tubbo began to start dinner, it becoming darker and darker outside.

========

The snow beginning to pick up, Tommy was working on his stone sword when someone knocked on the door.

Tubbo had a hunch on who it was.

He was correct when three familiar faces were shown shocked at the sight of them, "If you're coming in, please hurry."

Tommy shut the door with a knowing look as the grown men inspected their home, "So you two live alone? How old are you seven?"

Tubbo could hear the concern but Tommy huffed, "We are fifteen thank you very much! What about you old people? Huh? Ancient?"

"Well let's introduce ourselves huh? I'm Wilbur, I'm the very charismatic of the bunch. My brother here is Technoblade, he's the fighter. Here's the old man, Philza or Phil."

Tubbo can just feel Tommy roll his eyes, "I'm Tommy the handsomest in the whole land and the biggest man, and over there is Tubbo, he is my best friend and brother. Wilbur, your names shit, I hope you know that."

Tubbo continued to say nothing as he finished making dinner and Tommy continued, "So, how did you end up in a mon-"

"Before you finish that sentence, Mate? What monster and why do you call him that?" The newly dubbed Phil asked.

Tubbo answered as he approached, "That's what our kind call big folk, you know, giants? Human and Hybrids? They're monsters, all of them."

Wilbur narrowed his eyes, "How about size shifters? Reckoned they're good."

Tommy tilted his head, "Haven't met one that wanted to shrink to our size, seen a few go Titanic but they tried to kill everyone."

Tubbo might have been the only one to see the oldest man frown a bit before smiling, "How about you two show us how to survive, like without the big folk."

Tommy caught on to the fact he didn't say Monster but said nothing, "Don't know, you three are pets-"

"We are not pets!" Technoblade finally spoke, his eyes peering down at Tommy and him being unfazed.

Tubbo sighed, he honestly didn't know what to think about the implications he was getting but no harm in being prepared, to bad this was the last time he'd think on it.

For a moment, the other teen seem to contemplate it.

Tommy's face finally grew Stony, "Nope, you're better off as pets or being self taught. You can spend the night but leave after."

Unfortunately, years of being abandoned is still a fresh wound.

Wilbur tried reasoning, "You're the only ones we've met like us! We've no idea how to do things on our own! Also if we run away-"

"You'll lead your monster straight to us and get us all caught, I'm not risking our lives like that." It was rare that Tommy put his foot down, but even rarer for Tubbo to object.

"If we don't, they could still tell their Monster where we are." Tommy looked shocked but resigned.

Technoblade looking a bit uncomfortable before speaking again, "He wouldn't bother you even if he did know."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

"Riiiight."

====An image of drawn on wings appears on Tommy's back and tears on Tubbo's face.====

It started off slow, teaching basics of climbing and mending clothes first. Technoblade was great at mending, nearly on par with Tubbo. And he and Wilbur both Excell at climbing. Philza was actually on par with Tubbo for mending and pretty decent at climbing without rope, though he had wings he referred to it as handicapping himself.

They were decent in keeping up with Tommy and Tubbo themselves, but the two found that they were better fighters.

Now the teens needed fighting lessons, though the sneaking and stealing was the difficult part.

It's kinda insulting for these grown men to ask for help and not need it, and Tommy let them know.

They were sheepish as Tubbo led Techno to the farm, they bonded over the automatic farm he and Tommy created. Technoblade suggested and easier way to do it but Tubbo shook his head sadly.

"Mobs love going after our kind, not Endermen, even when we look them in the eye. But other mobs will Hunt us down. We try not to dig that deep, and avoid getting Iron ores...not that we can use them." Understanding reached the older Hybrid's eyes as Tubbo led him away.

It had been two weeks after that conversation that Tubbo finally let them see his horns, rubbing at them as they matured and needed a day.

Philza remain with him as Tommy took Techno and Wilbur hunting with him.

The elder man asking the hard questions as he made the child some tea, "Tell me, how did you get your...wounds."

Tubbo flinched and backed away from Phil before taking a deep breath, "Tommy and I...we were born and raised in captivity, we got sold to be a child's pets. They hurt Tommy so bad, then they tried to set me on fire with a torch...their mother stopped them before they touched me. But they believed me and Tommy were too...broken. so we were thrown out.

"More of our kind found us, but after teaching us what we know they left us. It's why we live outside instead of in the walls of a Monster's house...Tommy was too loud and I was too dumb to leave him."

Phil looked on the verge of tears, "You're not dumb, you're pretty wise for your age."

Before dozing off Tubbo managed to speak again, "No choice when you and yer friend are alone."

In the month, Tommy managed to let slip that he used to have wings and broke down in Tubbo's arms as the adults looked on in horror.

A child, ripping off his wings just because he asked them for an hour of rest. Then proceeded to play with said wings, nobody said anything as Phil flutted his own wings and occasionally covered the two children like a shield.

====The Next Month====

Tubbo laughed as Wilbur and Tommy shouted at each other about the best way to hunt. Phil would disappear once a week before returning with soft material for clothes, but Technoblade.

Technoblade was acting peculiar and even Tommy noticed, the two would ask if he were okay but he would nod and shoo them off.

The piglin Hybrid had been looking uncomfortable for the past few days, Phil and Wilbur seem to be waiting for something while Tubbo tried everything in his power to make him comfortable.

Tommy was concerned, not that he would show but got the material for Tubbo's gift to the older men.

For Philza, Tubbo made another ornament for his hat, a bee and raccoon.

For Wilbur, Tommy and Tubbo managed to have enough redstone for a music room. Tommy himself listen to Will play the most.

Tubbo was nervous about his gift to Techno, as Tommy gifted him a stone axe with self made design.

Tubbo, still focused on the Hybrid's discomfort, made his a pillow that looked like a ravanger. He gave a toothy grin and hugged the kid, keeping it close as he dozed off.

Tubbo will deny his tail ever wagging.

It wasn't until the next morning things made sense and seemed...bad.

Tubbo's horns hurt as Techno himself grunted in his discomfort, so they couldn't get things done.

Wilbur and Tommy got into another argument but this time about borrowing iron from the village which Phil helped Wilbur understand why not.

They were due for another hunting trip but with Technoblade and Tubbo out of commission, Phil had to go with them despite not wanting to leave the two.

Technoblade decided to stay on the couch instead of his newly added room and Tubbo remained near in case neither could handle the stairs.

When Tubbo blinked awake, it was to the noise of rushing wind and screams.

The ground shook under him as the house quaked, Pillagers

Tubbo quickly crawled over to Techno, too dizzy to stand and a shock went through his body.

The piglin Hybrid was much larger than their little couch that he slept on, Tubbo could place two hands on the older Hybrid's face and attempted to awake him.

"T..ech..no, we need to move, please wake up." Just as Tubbo stuttered that out, a booted foot came through the borrower's home, a pained and fearful cry escaped him as he missed a single red eye open.

Something wrapped around his waist, startling him as he looked up fearful at Techno.

The Hybrid looked pained as he began to expand higher through the ceiling, Tubbo watched in horrified fascination as the hand he was in curled closer to an eye.

"Tubbo, you know me, you know I'd never hurt you. Please hold on to me, I don't want you getting hurt." Tubbo's body went on autopilot as the hand was brought closer to the mon- the neck of Technoblade.

Tubbo held on as the body finally broke through the house, shielding him from danger.

A gleam brought Tubbo to attention, a light blue axe appeared in the giant's hand shimmering with unspoken enchantments. Tubbo had only heard of diamonds before, he was not disappointed.

Technoblade slashed through all his enemies, all the while keeping an eye and ear on Tubbo.

The beat of large wings alerted Tubbo to another person, Philza. The oldest coming from the air like an Angel of Death.

Tubbo could make out two people against his own throat, Tommy and Wilbur.

Unfortunately Phil didn't catch sight of him and the borrower was being grabbed in a tight fist, "Come on Mate! You're not prepared enough for this."

Technoblade's ear twitched and the scared pain Yelp, "Philza! Let go! You have Tubbo!"

The crushing weight was immediately gone as the kid took deep breaths barely hearing Techno's instructions, "Tubbo, I'm going to have to fight my way through. Hold on the best you can."

As that was said, the older hybrid began to lurch forward. Tubbo caught glimpses of Phil fighting alongside, but his focus was on not falling.

Not being ripped away wasn't part of this, a small glowing Fae creature tackled Tubbo and flew him away.

========

Tommy watched as his best friend got carried away by a Vex, "TUBBO!"

Wilbur flinched at the volume and Phil slightly stiffen but didn't falter in his fighting, Technoblade visibly looked around when it happened.

The small army was thinning down as the two watched out for the vex with the ram Hybrid, carefully taking out other vexes that went for Tommy or Wilbur.

Techno knew there was one left as bodies turned to emeralds, but the snow began to become blinding and Tubbo's scent getting fainter.

Phil had to physically drag him to the cabin, Wilbur had grew to his full size and started a fire and proceeded to hold Tommy.

Who was using all his energy in fighting Wilbur's hand, "I have to find Tubbo! Wilbur let go!"

The small being froze as Techno and Phil entered the space, "Don't worry Tommy, we'll find him. But we'll be useless in this weather."

Phil attempted to comfort, suddenly feeling too large compared to the child. The man can barely see his facial features, but even he could tell that he was terrified.

The silence was thick and tension high and the broken voice to an all too small child spoke up, "So... this is it? You...you really got us to trust you-"

Wilbur knew where this was going, "Tommy, Tommy no-*

"You shithead's are really fucked up! What next? Am I a pet? Did you honestly sell Tubbo!?" Tommy continued, the only one about to tell he's crying was Wilbur.

Techno didn't say anything as Tommy yelled, guilt too strong in his gut. He slowly turned to the window, the snow falling harshly as Tubbo got farther and farther.

They were getting Tubbo back.

========

Tubbo wasn't feeling well, his head throbbed because of his horns and he was cold. His cagemate wasn't much better so he can't complain.

Enderfae were quite rare on the market, Tubbo had only met one that he called The Captain. Well sorta, he was of Dragon variety.

Tubbo doesn't like to think what happened to him.

The Enderfae was crying, as the Pillager added their cage to his wall. A pillager outpost.

"HHey, it'll be okay, I'll find a way out of this. My... family will come for us." Tubbo tried to soothe knowing that he was making empty promises.

"Its okay, I've come to terms with this the moment I got captured. I hope my friends are okay. My name's Ranboo."

"I'm Tubbo."

========

The cabin was dark, Wilbur slept curled around a pillow which held a borrower.

A borrower who's trust they destroyed...one of two.

Upon closer inspection, you could see the tear stains down his face. Filling the larger three with guilt, sympathy, and rage.

Technoblade added more Regen and Health Potions to his pack, his old red cloak was taken from the closet and put on. A large netherite axe lay strapped to his back along with his trusty trident.

His bright golden crown lay on his head once again as he readjusted his armor.

He stood in full netherite armor, his hair lay hazardous around his head. Stiffening as hands began to braid it into a ponytail.

"Be careful Technoblade, Tubbo is fragile compared to me and Wil. He might be afraid, try not to hurt him and try not to get hurt." Philza warned.

Techno responded in a snort, He was the Blood God, of course he'll be careful

========

Technoblade isn't always the lovable dope he shows his family, he was ruthless, dangerous, and incredibly protective.

Everyone knew of him, but very few knew him.

When something happens to his family, he hunts down the threat and if it's killable...need he continue?

A pillager kidnapped his little brother, his pack, and expects not to be hunted down like prey? Pillagers are not known for brilliance.

"Technoblade?!" A familiar voice rang out behind him, a feral growl escaped him.

Dream, Sapnap and George ran up to him. All equipped in their own armour, oddly enough Dream was without his mask and tear stains on his face.

They hesitated, they each had seen Technoblade in his most feral and bloodthirsty before, so they new to be cautious.

Sapnap spoke in Piglin, "Techno? Did something happen to Wilbur and Phil?"

"New Pack, Pillagers took him!" It was no secret that Feral Technoblade couldn't speak common, but it was still a surprise each time someone heard it.

Sapnap nodded, "We'll help, Pillagers stole my Inferno. Work together?"

The trio watched as the Piglin Hybrid nodded in agreement, it had been a while since they teamed up. What better way than to save family.

~~~~~~~~

Tubbo and Ranboo talked quietly, trying to brighten their seemingly dark future.

Ranboo talked about what he remembered before being bought by his Haunting, then finally trusting them and calling them his.

Tubbo spoke of his Herd, how he met the older three and how he knew one was just giant. How he observed them long enough to trust them, and their names.

Both promising the other that if they live or die that the other tell their family.

Not that it was necessary, about three minutes later an alarm went off, alerting the occupant of intruders.

Hope filled the two as yells of fear and agony echoed through the building, scaring the Evoker that captured them.

The pillager didn't have time to cast a spell when a familiar face burst through the doorway.

Tubbo could see the rage in his red eyes, but his happiness clouded judgement.

"Techno!"

For a moment, his rage cleared only for it to return full force at the Evoker.

Not long after that, he was struck down and Technoblade gently took the cage off the wall. He noticed the Enderfae and looked around for others.

His clawed hand wrapped around the small cage at the sight of small bones and jarred tiny insides, the only other living thing in the room was a small zombie Piglin hybrid in a jar next to the taxidermy book.

He took the jar and opened it, grabbed the child and opened Tubbo's cage and passed them to him.

As the building began to burn, Technoblade left just as fast as he arrived.

Tubbo watched as Ranboo called out to three individuals, he recognized one being a Mushroom hybrid but not the other two.

The baby zombie Piglin Hybrid curled next to him, both shivered just realizing the cold.

The bandana wearing man looked to Technoblade, "I can carry them if you want, keep them warm. You did agree to let us spend the night at your place."

He didn't understand the snorts and grunts but it seemed like the baby did because he copied.

That brought a soft smile to the bandana boy and Technoblade, the later grinned at Tubbo.

Soon they were on the move again. Tubbo and Ranboo huddled the baby Piglin, more relieved than before that they were saved.

========

Tommy hadn't eaten anything since Tubbo was taken, he hadn't interacted nor did he call Wilbur name and claim he was bald.

The two sizeshifter knew deep down that he wouldn't get better unless Tubbo was with them again.

The front door swung open revealing a steaming Sapnap holding something against his chest with the protective determination that was only in reserve for his friends and family.

Soon the rest of Dream Team and Technoblade entered the cabin, they were covered in soot smudges and looked exhausted.

Phil could see Tommy stiffen and move further from the door but settled on Technoblade, "Tubbo?"

Sapnap moved his arms to reveal a small cage with three small beings inside, one Phil recognized immediately.

"Tubbo!" Philza approached the younger man, who backed away at the same time as Ranboo flinched.

But the old man was patient, and the cage was released again, this time Tubbo was halfway through the door and jumping into Phil's hands.

"Hi Phil! Where's Tommy!?" Tubbo looked exhausted as well.

As gently as well as fast as he could, Phil brought his hands on the table so Tubbo could run to Tommy.

"Tubbo!"

"Tommy!"

The duo hugged until Tubbo passed out and caused a mass panic from everyone but Ranboo.

It wasn't ideal, but it was a new beginning for the clingyduo.

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x0401x · 4 years

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Violet Evergarden Movie Summary

The initial plan was to make this a short bullet-point thing, but I felt like there was too much to clarify and I had no choice but use novel references to explain certain parts, so I decided to just write a normal summary. Many thanks before-hand to my friend Yuuki, who gave me all this info.

Apologies for taking relatively long with this thing. Not even I expected that I would end up writing this much. Buckle up for the ride, ‘cause it won’t be fun.

Nope, not kidding. It really won’t.

First thing I need to make clear is: this movie is one and a half hour long and divided into three parts and two different timelines: the times when Violet existed and the times after she dies. Already in the beginning of the movie, Violet is dead.

Yes, you read this right. She’s dead.

Now, I don’t mean that she’s dead in the literal sense. This is 60 years in the future. She might be alive or not, but it’s never said. However, the timeline of 60 years later is considered an era without Violet, apparently because she has retired and her “legend” is over, so to say. It’s also a time where Auto-Memories Dolls don’t exist. That’s one good punch in the face. Let’s keep counting.

The movie is sort of like a tale being read by someone else, which at some point goes into Violet’s first-person POV. The whole thing is kind of a look back on Violet’s life tragectory and how it took a new turn when she decided to continue looking for Gil despite all the mess of the TV series.

The era where Violet exists is an era where telephones are being introduced to the people, so Auto-Memories Dolls are starting to become unnecessary. I would argue that the creation of the telephone isn’t enough for an entire occupation to start disappearing so quickly, since new inventions are normally extremely expensive and not everyone has access to them (or even knows about their existence) so immediately after their conception. Realistically speaking, ghostwriters would still be important as long as there were still so many people unable to buy phones. Not to mention that this is a steampunk world where compulsory education doesn’t seem to be a thing yet, so even in the off chance that everybody can buy a phone, there would still be a lot of people who can’t read or write on their own. But all of this clearly went over the animators’ heads, so not only ghostwriters but also the mail business in general are nearing their doom in the movie.

The one looking back on Violet’s life was Ann, who was telling it all to her granddaughter, Daisy (who, by the way, is voiced by Morohoshi Sumire, the same girl who voiced the seven-year-old Ann). Ann had kept all the letters that Violet ghostwrote for her mother, as well as the newspapers about the CH Postal Company. Looks like the article was printed after Violet left CH, since she isn’t in the picture with everyone else.

In this era, CH’s main office has been turned into a museum. Nerine is shown working in it. Of course, she’s a grandma by then. Speaking of the CH personnel, Erica also quit being an Auto-Memories Doll and became a playwright like Oscar. She appears in the newspaper, though, so she probably a while left after Violet did. Taylor also appears there.

Back to Daisy, she was writing a letter to her parents, in order to learn how to properly convey feelings with written word. The message of this scene seems to be that, no matter the tools, what’s important is that we convey our feelings to the people we love.

As we see in the trailer, Gil’s mom has passed and Violet runs into Dietfried when visiting her grave on the anniversary of her death. To anyone who is wondering: yeah, Gil never went to see his mother and she died thinking that he was dead.

Nobody knew that Gil was alive. Not his mother, not Dietfried, not the Evergardens and not even Hodgins. No one.

Here’s what happened to Gil in the anime: he survived the incident at Intense, of course, but got separated from Violet in that explosion. His tag miraculously stayed on the same spot, though, as we saw in the TV series. Now, since this isn’t explained in the anime at all, I have to make it clear: the tag is that necklace the soldiers wear. It contains their names and ranks, so that their bodies can be identified even when they’re irrecognizable. Without the tag, the people who rescued Gil had no idea who he was, so he was sent to a different place to get treated. He ended up at a monastery hospital instead of the one in Enchaîné. I would debate that his uniform alone is enough to identify him as someone from the Leidenschaftlich Army, or maybe they could’ve just asked him which troop he belonged to after he woke up and relocated him to where his fellow men were, but who even cares about all these plot holes anymore? Definitely not me.

Anyway. After Gil was discharged, he ran the fuck away. Like, literally.

If anyone out there was hoping that Gil would finally have his moment to shine as the self-sacrificing, thoughtful and ridiculously kindhearted character that he is in the novel, I have bad news for you. What we had here was even worse than it being Gil’s excuse movie. It’s like the whole thing was made to drag his character so deep through the mud that he’ll never be able to get up again. There’s pretty much nothing in this one and a half hour that actually justifies what he did to Violet. I’ll elaborate on this as we go on.

Anime!Gil became a nomad and went traveling. He offed his ass to the island where that lighthouse displayed in the most recent official art is located (that’s why Gil and Violet were at the beach on the movie poster). He doesn’t have a prosthetic in the anime because, apparently, he was more worried about disappearing as fast as possible to somewhere he would never be found, and never attempted to contact anybody. So nobody knew that he was alive, hence the grave, which, as we feared, was not a fake one. His family really did think he had died.

This is a point that I have already addressed before, but that also means Gil really did abandon Violet to luck. If anything dangerous ever happened to her (as it did, and it was always very obviously likely to happen, since she was the southern army’s most outstanding soldier and quite literally fled from the military), he wouldn’t even know. If word ever got to him, it would probably be too late. And even if it weren’t, he wouldn’t be able to do anything to help her. More than allowing her to live freely, it felt like he was running away from his responsibilities regarding Violet.

Punch on the face count is currently at six.

By sheer coincidence, Violet learns that Gil is living in that island. She goes to see him and Hodgins goes with her after trying to stop her at first. When Gil finds out that they came to see him, he outright refuses to meet them. It pretty much takes the near entirety of the goddamn movie for them to see each other face-to-face. I say face-to-face because all of the following shit happens:

Hodgins goes to talk to Gil. It lasts about 20 minutes.

Gil talks to Violet from behind a door. This one is about 10 minutes.

Dietfried also comes to the island to talk to him. Also about 10 minutes.

At long fucking last, Gil goes to see Violet. But that, too, is only for about 10 minutes.

Hodgins gives him a speech very similar to what happens in chapter 8. Now get ready to fall back from your seats: Dietfried basically goes there to tell Gil that he won’t run away from taking over the family anymore, so Gil can live freely. Yes, Dietfried is officially a better Gilbert than Gilbert himself. I crave death.

So, after much ado, they come to a conclusion: Gil will stay in the island. In order to completely free himself of the shackles of his bloodline, he stays behind, living the way he wants to. ‘Cause all anime!Gil wants is to rot away alone by the sea, apparently. Now prepare yourselves, for it gets worse. Ready?

Violet stays with him in the motherfucking island.

That’s right, ladies and gents. Another fear became true. She quits her job at the CH Postal Company and goes to live with him. Well, at least, not as a housewife. She starts working with mail services in the island, and Gil helps her with it. Her life goes on like this and she dies in the island as well.

This is where the timeline after Violet passes away comes into light, parallel to the era when Violet was alive. Daisy talks about what happened after Violet left CH, as if it were a tale from the distant past.

That’s it.

The movie paints this as a happy ending. I can hardly see it as one. I know it almost looks like everything was solved, but it just got swept under the rug.

The main point that makes me sad in this ending is that Violet’s character development did a 360 degree flip. In the end, she threw everything to the air and went to live in someone who she always put before everyone else, even herself, but who didn’t do the same for her (in the anime). She’s gone to a crammed little island, where she led an uneventful life away from everyone and everything that’s ever had a positive impact on her. All she has is Gil.

Of course, he’s all she needs, but he isn’t all she should have, and that was the entire point of pushing her to go live on her own. Which is exactly what she earns in the novel: two loving parents, a father figure, a brother figure, a best friend and several other friends and acquaintances whom she formed a bond with. She has all she needs, so she doesn’t have to cling to Gil for any reason. There’s no emotional dependance on him anymore. She doesn’t need him to be whole. She just wants him because he happens to be the best person she’s ever met.

Anime!Violet is most definitely not whole. She almost got there, but then she backtracked completely. And anime!Gil... in my friend’s words, is a weakling. There’s nothing in him actually worth all this undying blind love. Sure, he’s full of regret and shit, but it’s too easy to only act upon it now, by vanishing into thin air like a coward.

The deal with novel!Gil is that he looks around at everything he has, everything that had been burdening him and killing him on the inside all his life, and decides to make use of it for Violet’s sake. He continues being family head and working in the army, amassing money and connections in order to have every means possible to protect Violet should anything happen to her. And as it turns out, he does end up having to use those means, more than once, but he will keep this up for as long as he needs to, because he lives for her now. That’s what makes him worth all the blood, sweat, tears, mental sanity and even body parts that she gave away for his sake: he pays it back. Every cent.

Punch in the face count ends at twelve. Thirteen if I include the fact that the movie ends with a last shot of Violet after she and Gilbert do a pinky swear. Looks like they were really trying to buy everyone with tears.

Oh, well.

I hope this has been a good enough summary. Sorry if I rained on anyone’s parade. I’m pretty sure we won’t get a remake ever, so I really wish we all can get over this soon.

#violet evergarden #fyeahvioletevergarden #kyoani #kyoto animation #violet evergarden movie #summary #gilbert bougainvillea #claudia hodgins #dietfried bougainvillea

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spencers-renaissance · 4 years

Text

when I fall asleep (it is your eyes that I close)

Summary: Spencer's not been sleeping, and as much as Derek adores his sleepy clinginess and physical affection, as soon as they get home he's determined to get to the bottom of it.

Tags: fluff, hurt/comfort, sleep-deprivation, clingy!spencer, physical affection, spencer climbing into derek’s lap :’), anxiety, vulnerability, so much cuddling

Pairing: Morgan x Reid

Word Count: 1.9k

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Derek had spent pretty much the whole case worried about his boyfriend. Spencer hadn’t slept properly for over a week and it was beginning to show: the circles under his eyes darkening steadily, weariness written in every stance, unable to even hold himself upright properly. He’d even got teary at one point in the hotel room after another long day with no break, climbing into bed and curling up against Derek’s side in a way he never does when they’re working a case.

At least he wasn’t the only one watching him like a hawk, Hotch had pointedly kept him out of the field as much as possible and JJ and Emily were especially kind to him, everyone turning a blind eye to his coffee consumption. But after the case is finally wrapped up and they’re in the SUVs on the way to the jet and Spencer can barely keep his eyes open, Derek’s worry increases slightly. Hotch is shooting him questioning looks in the rearview mirror but he can only reply with an equally dubious shrug.

They’d come out to the team a few months ago after keeping it tightly under wraps for over a year, and even though it was still very much a team secret, everyone was grossly supportive among the relentless teasing. In moments like these, not having to hide it is an advantage in every way. He scoots over to the middle seat and pulls Spencer to gently lean against his shoulder, kissing the top of his head.

“You’re a softie, you know that, Derek?” Emily grins from the front seat.

“You caught me,” he smiles back, resting his head on top of Spencer’s as he clasps one of his boyfriend’s hands in his own. “You alright, pretty boy?” he whispers.

Spencer manages a small hum as his eyelids flutter close again, resting against the warmth and comfort of his partner. He makes it to the jet without falling asleep, but only barely. Derek is adamant on holding his hand up the stairs; he’s far too wobbly on his feet for his liking.

They collapse into the closest pair of seats, Derek stowing both of their bags before getting his boyfriend comfortable. “Do you need anything, baby?” he asks softly, ignoring the rest of the team finding their seats as they chatter amongst themselves.

“I’m cold,” Spencer mumbles as he looks up at Derek with wide, exhausted eyes.

“You want my hoodie?” Derek suggests, pulling at the fabric.

At Spencer’s earnest nod he wastes no time in peeling it off and helping Spencer into it, watching him settle comfortably into the warm, oversized fabric with a fond smile over his face. He presses a gentle, lingering kiss to his lips before swiping his thumb over his bottom lip. “I love you, pretty boy,” he says softly, unable to stop himself but sure to keep his words safe from prying ears, “you know that, right?”

Spencer nods again, smiling lazily. “I love you, too, Der,” he says sleepily.

He’s out like a light by the time Derek’s settled into his own seat, headphones playing his favourite post-case playlist, and a quick glance around the cabin reveals he’s not the only one smiling fondly at the youngest member of the team.

At some point, he must have dozed off himself because he’s awoken mid-flight -- when everyone else is either buried in paperwork, napping, or doing their own thing -- by Spencer climbing into his lap.

“Hey, hey, baby,” he mutters, confusedly lifting a headphone off his ear, “what’s wrong?”

“Need a cuddle,” Spencer murmurs, before continuing to settle himself against Derek’s chest. He’s straddling him with his face buried in his boyfriend’s neck, only quieting properly when Derek wraps his arms around him and holds him closely.

Spencer’s clinginess was one of his boyfriend’s characteristics that had surprised him the most at the start of their relationship. He was attached to Derek’s hip most of the time, always desperate for a cuddle; he’d had to adjust to sleeping with someone lying practically on top of him fairly quickly. As much as it had blindsided him, however, he absolutely adored how cuddly Spencer was. It proved to him that Spencer really was proud to be his boyfriend when he insisted on always touching him in some way -- with the exception of work -- and Derek found it utterly adorable.

“You comfortable there, pretty boy?” he asks softly, running his hands up and down Spencer’s back. Positions like this had taken a while to perfect since they were the same height, but they’d had a year of practice to learn the perfect angles for Spencer to fit just right with Derek.

He feels him nod against his neck and chuckles slightly before resetting his headphones and settling back against the chair again, revelling in the warmth of his boyfriend pressed snugly against him.

Derek wakes up first, realising the jet is still before looking up to see the rest of the team grinning at them, Emily snapping as many pictures from as many angles as possible. He rolls his eyes before nudging Spencer gently, determined to get off the plane and back home quickly.

That plan backfires, however, when Spencer just whines and presses closer into Derek. As cute as his boyfriend is being, and as much as Derek would absolutely relent if they were home, this is maybe just a bit too personal for his colleagues to be witnessing, especially for someone as private as him. He glares at the team and waves at them to go and luckily they obey, with the help of Hotch’s quiet ushering.

“Come on, baby,” Derek murmurs once they’re trailing down the steps and they have a bit more privacy. He sits up straight and, firmly gripping his thighs, he stands up with Spencer still hanging off him like a koala. Gently, he places him back down on the seat to allow him to wake up properly before grabbing their bags and putting his headphones away.

When he turns back, Spencer is yawning and sleepily rubbing his eyes, but at least he’s sat up straight. Offering his hand, he guides them off the jet and straight down to the parking garage, determined to get Spencer wrapped up in bed as fast as humanly possible.

⭐️

“Right, you need to eat something, and then let's get you into bed, pretty boy,” Derek says as he plants Spencer on the sofa and makes his way into the kitchen. “What do you fancy?”

“Omelette?” Spencer suggests, sinking into the comfortable cushions of the sofa. It had been one of their biggest arguments when they’d moved in together: Spencer had flat out refused to give up his couch, despite Derek’s being newer and in much better nick. He just couldn’t bear to part with the familiar green fabric with its countless coffee stains, it was far too comfortable and acted as a security blanket for him in many ways. Derek, being the big old softie he was for Spencer, had finally relented and had to admit, the sofa had definitely grown on him.

“Coming right up,” Derek grins as he gathers the ingredients to make them both some veggie-filled, nutritious eggs that would make a nice change from the take-away and junk food they’d gorged themselves over the past week.

“Thank you,” Spencer murmurs as Derek brings his over a few minutes later, leaning up to kiss him before he can pull away.

“That’s ‘thank you, Chef’, to you,” he teases as they tuck in and eat in comfortable silence.

“Bed, now?” Spencer asks as he puts his empty plate on top of Derek’s, ready to take to the dishwasher.

“Just one second,” Derek says, catching Spencer’s wrist to pull him back down from his attempt to stand up and get ready for bed. “What’s been going on the past week, baby boy? I know you haven’t been sleeping well, but we’ve been together long enough for me to know there’s something else going on.”

Spencer sighs and looks down at his lap, knowing the jig is up. He takes a deep breath before looking back to Derek, eyes brimming with tears as he hesitates, not knowing how to communicate what he wants to say.

“Hey, you don’t have to worry about phrasing anything clearly, Spencer, you’ve been holding back a long time so just say whatever is going on in that pretty boy and we’ll take it from there, yeah?” he says soothingly, moving closer to his boyfriend, to give him his much needed physical comfort alongside the verbal reassurance.

“I’ve just felt anxious this week about a number of things, I don’t really know. I had a nightmare at the start of the week about my mom’s condition worsening so I called the facility and they told me that she’s been doing absolutely fine, but I couldn’t shake this impending feeling of… doom? Like I’ve been on edge all week that I’m going to get some bad news and I know it’s completely irrational, but I can’t help it. And it sent me spiralling, worrying about the future because I guess it just reminded me that one day that call will come, and I’ll have no warning.” He struggles through it fairly slowly, but at least he finally gets it out, blinking tears away as much as possible, though unable to prevent a good few dripping down his cheeks.

Derek reaches a thumb out to brush them away, smiling softly. “Oh, baby,” he says sympathetically, “that’s completely understandable. I’m proud of you for telling me. Is there anything I can do to help?”

Spencer smiles a little despite himself as he looks at Derek in a way that he understands immediately what he’s trying to convey.

“Ah, I see,” he chuckles, but he opens his arms anyway and Spencer climbs into his lap again pushing him back on the sofa so he’s lying on top of him. “You know I’m gonna be here for you no matter what, right?”

“I know,” Spencer whispers, cuddling closer as Derek’s hand goes to the back of his head, caressing his curls gently. “I love you, Derek.”

“Oh, pretty boy, you have no idea how much I love you,” he says gently. “I’d go to the ends of the earth for you. Now, how about we get ready for bed? You’re exhausted and I’ve cruelly kept you up even later.”

“Yes, I’m bitterly angry with you,” Spencer giggles as he pulls himself up a bit, so his hands are braced either side of Derek’s chest.

“Mm, how can I ever hope to be forgiven?” Derek raises an eyebrow, finding it very hard not to melt at the sight of his boyfriend giggling above him, eyes still glassy and face still flushed from his previous tears.

“Maybe, just maybe,” Spencer says, pretending to think, “you’ll be forgiven if you carry me to the bathroom and…”

“And?”

“Kiss me,” Spencer murmurs, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to Derek’s lips, moaning at the feeling of his hands roaming down his sides.

It’s not long before his upper body strength gives out and he collapses though, breaking the kiss and making them both laugh.

“Come on, pretty boy,” Derek says eventually, still grinning. “Bed time.”

As usual, Spencer takes up his nightly position of acting as Derek’s very own weighted blanket. He kisses his curls before they both drop off to sleep, wrapping his arms around him and savouring the closeness of his boyfriend. “Love you,” he murmurs as he trails his fingers up Spencer’s sides.

Spencer manages to give Derek one quick squeeze in response before his body relaxes into the deep sleep he deserves after such an emotionally intense week, and Derek isn’t far behind him, sleep coming much quicker than it used to when he’s wrapped around the man he’s going to marry one day.

@strippersenseii @criminalmindsvibez

#criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds writing #criminal minds fluff #moreid #moreid fic #moreid fluff #derek morgan #spencer reid #derek morgan x spencer reid #derek morgan/spencer reid #my writing

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pen-of-roses · 2 years

Text

Prompt 6-Evander pt 1

WHG Tag List: @concealeddarkness13 @maple-writes @ratracechronicler @childrenoflight-darkness-nothing @knmartinshouldbewriting

The training center was still closed for another few hours when he left his room, but rising before everyone else was an ingrained habit, and the fewer interactions that made the other tributes hate him personally, the better. It was also good to actually watch the other Reapings now, to know what he was getting himself into.

“You know, I always assumed Reide was the bad influence on you, not the other way around.”

His hand stilled over the mug, but he didn’t turn around. “That was rather the point I believe. I’m sure you can find a way to imply this is as well if that’s important to you. Spin the tale of a rogue Caster standing with the Districts for all I care. Or say that I was sent in to protect your precious hero.”

The tea wasn’t the quality of the rest of the Capitol, but it would still impress anyone who had grown up solely in a District. In fact everything in the apartments and even the train had been that. Meant to impress but without the full extent of luxury found elsewhere.

Why waste it when all but one of them would be dead soon anyway?

As such, he could see the flaws in the paint of the wall above the sink, the places it hadn’t been applied properly and chipped. Or feel the slight imperfections in the mug.

“Evander.”

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it? Oren Reide back under control to play their role as the hero? You can’t guarantee that if they’re in the Games. I could.”

“You’re throwing away your future by doing this.”

“There’s no future for the Coven unless they survive or tell someone how they defeated it. You’d be dooming us all with the hope they’d fight. If you’d seen them, you’d know that’s unlikely anyway.”

But you don’t need them to survive. You’d be better off letting them fall, so you can step in instead. That’s what you wanted originally, right? To prove you were better than everyone?

“You’re meant to trust in our judgment. Greater things are at play here than you understand Evander.”

“Is that all you’ve come to tell me, Auntie?” He turned now to face her where she stood in the doorway of the kitchen, arms folded behind her back with her trademark stern expression. “I knew I was doomed to fall as soon as I got on the train. But at least I’m giving us a chance to survive, rather than leaving it to Fate.”

“Fate was on our side during the first attack.”

“Was it? Tell the people who actually lost something in them that. Tell the ones who were hurt during this set that. If Fate really worked, wouldn’t this be over?” He brushed past her, keeping his head held high as he moved towards the elevators. She wouldn’t dare making a scene outside the safety of the apartment. Not when others could overhear. Could know just how far the Coven had really fallen.

“If that was the case, then they failed as a hero. Are you really willing to throw your life away for that?”

“I knew that too.”

“I hope they’re worth it then.” He did too. “I will not watch you get yourself killed over some foolish sense of loyalty.”

“Then don’t watch.”

- - -

The training center was loud. Too many people all at once, talking, moving too quickly, and the tension in the air was distracting at best.

But at least they weren’t bothering with him.

Maybe he could actually practice some skills to keep himself alive for a while in there then. At the very least, the stations had instructions he could read and learn something from.

Or at least that was the theory.

In practice, the ones for making a simple shelter were worse than useless given the horror in front of him.

Oh for the Blessed Eternals sake, was this really supposed to keep people without Cast safe in there? Was any of this actually meant to help them survive?

Someone stepped up behind and it was only the years of instructors doing so that kept him from tensing or snapping. “What are you up to?”

“Apparently trying to build a structure, or at least that’s the claim the station makes, the instructions leave something to be desired however.” The frustration bled into the words, but the tent leaned and threatened to fall before he could care. A simple pull of Cast to fuse the pieces fixed it however.

“What was that you just did there?”

“Nothing grand,” right, most people wouldn’t know about it, “just pulled a bit of Cast to solidify the pieces together.” It was a shame at how tightly kept of a secret it was, but then it was in and of itself impossible to safely self study without accidently succumbing to overexposure. He didn’t recognize the person who’d asked. Maybe he wouldn’t offend them this time. “Have you come over to try your hand at this as well?”

The other tribute nodded as he sat beside him. “I’ve never set up a tent before.”

He couldn’t help the glare he sent at the ‘tent’. “I’m not sure you will by the end of this.”

“If your attempts are any indication…” Was that an insult? But no, the smile seemed friendly enough. “My name is Mica.”

No hand was offered, so he bowed his head. Hopefully that was still proper? “Evander Moore of the…” You're not of the Coven now, are you? “District Four.”

“Right, Districts,” he laughed, “I’m from Seven.” Seven, seven, what was seven known for? Transportation? No, lumber, right? Abyss, did that even matter now? “What are you going to do? In the arena?”

What else could he do? “My best not to die, as I suspect we all will. At least until…”

Rook was at the plants station, though they seemed to be more interested in the surrounding tributes than anything else. They probably knew all this stuff anyway, what possible use would he be?

He shook his head and turned back to Mica. “I admit no desire to get my hands bloodied, though. I can’t fault those who were forced into this mess.” He wouldn’t kill unless absolutely necessary, but he would do what he had to if it meant Rook had a chance.

“I see.” Mica dropped his voice and leaned in slightly before speaking again, “If you can find me, I will protect you.”

What an odd statement, a promise of protection from someone who didn’t even know him. “I’m not sure I’m the one that needs protection. That’s a noble goal from you though. District…Seven you said? I seem to recall one of the tributes volunteering from there.” Maybe an alliance wouldn’t be a terrible idea.

He nodded. “I did.”

“No offense, but you don’t really seem like you’re in it for the glory and prestige of it all.” Seven wasn’t a career, but that didn’t mean the mentality hadn’t trickled into some of the others. But if he was genuine…

Wasn’t your plan to stay distanced? What if it comes down to your life or his?

“No, I’m not.” He sighed, a heavy weight seeming to settle on his shoulders. “There’s no glory in it. I’m here to protect who I can.”

“On that we can agree, but you’ll forgive me if the nature of the Games doesn’t lend itself too well to protecting everyone.” It was his turn to sigh as he pulled Cast to clean his clothes out of habit. “One person likely will prove itself a challenge.”

“I know,” the tone suggested that he really did. “It’s the least I can do to try.” That wasn’t exactly true, the least he could do was not be here at all.

Same with you. In fact that would’ve been a better plan.

“Why did you do this willingly?”

He gave a smile, or at least a facsimile of one. “You wouldn’t believe me if I said the glory of it all would you?” Wouldn’t that have been an easier answer to everything? “Let’s call it a foolish sense of loyalty and attachment that has brought nothing but heartache for myself. In truth, I’m not even sure why I’m here.”

Any of the others could have done this. Or the Coven could’ve dealt with everything themselves and left Rook exactly where they were. Where they clearly wanted to be.

“I hope coming here resolves whatever brought you pain.” Answers would resolve his pain, answers he still hadn’t gotten, and was probably less likely too after the show he’d put on yesterday. “Either way, you can trust me out there. My offer still stands.”

An odd thing, to be extended a branch of caring from a stranger simply because they’d decided he was worth it.

Someone else had done that once too, years ago.

It tore his heart.

“Very well,” he bowed his head, partially in acceptance, partially to hide the flickers of pain. “I wish you the best of luck no matter what happens though.”

“Thank you.” He stood, clearly struggling with the action from pain. An injury of some kind? One that hadn’t been healed properly? The Coven had its Cast and potions to protect from all of that, but clearly that didn’t extend past them. But Rook was injured as well, and they should’ve had all those things at their disposal as well. “Good luck with your tent.”

He nodded absently. It was rude to stare, or at least, someone had told him that once, so he turned back to the terrible tent, still waiting for a stiff breeze to knock it over. Might as well oblige it.

With a flick of his hand, it fell over in a shower of golden sparks as he stood, and headed to the practice dummies. At least that would be a more practical use of his time and means to vent out the hurricane of thoughts.

#whg #writeblr hunger games #prompt 6 #round 17 #evander|evan #let the angst begin #this one got kind of long so splitting it in two #also my wrist started to hurt pretty badly

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blueskiesandstarrynights · 3 years

Text

Whatever Happens I'ma Stand Tall- Jatp time loop au, Chapter 2: Loop 2, Didn't We Already Do This?

And here's chapter 2! I'm glad to get this one done, it's been bugging me for a bit.

Word Count: 2120

Tag list: @enby-chaos-fox @lagoonaaa

If anyone else wants to be added, just let me know!

Masterpost of chapters (x)

Looks like today is gonna be another sunny day, with temperatures in the low to mid eighties.

Julie awoke with a gasp and scrambled to shut off her alarm and wipe away her damp cheeks from her tears, trying to figure out what had just happened. She nearly knocked her phone off her nightstand trying to grab it, but once she got it she checked the date on her phone and nearly started crying with relief when she saw the date: Saturday, March 7, 2020.

It wasn’t real.

Whatever she thought she had just experienced was just a dream. A nightmare created from her fears that today’s plan didn’t work. It was ok. They’re going to play the Orpheum and her band is going to crossover. She’d still lose them, but she had already accepted that.

But she had to be sure. Had to be sure it really was just a nightmare and her boys are still here. She quickly got dressed and dashed down to the studio only to find the guys a few seconds from poofing away.

Reggie noticed her first and called out, “Oh hey Julie! We were just about to-”

He cut himself off once he saw that Julie’s eyes had filled with tears and asked, “Whoa, Julie are you okay?”

She wiped her tears with a soft smile before saying, “Yeah, yeah I’m okay. I just had this really vivid dream that you guys were jolted out of existence and I couldn’t save you.”

“Well you don’t have to worry, it was just a nightmare, we’re right here and not going to go down without a fight.” Luke smiled at her.

Julie nodded and wiped the final tear tracks from her face before smirking and saying, “Don’t you guys have a gig to secure? You’re not crossing over without it.”

“We were just about to go and check on Wil- the gig,” Alex replied, looking anxious to leave and check on someone who she assumed to be Willie, Alex’s ghost friend who was going to be helping them get the gig for tonight. Julie wondered if he was more than just a “ghost friend” and filed that piece of information for later as Luke gave her a salute and a “See ya later boss,” before poofing away with Alex and Reggie in tow.

Julie took a deep breath to steady herself and push down the anxious thoughts and worries that had pushed their way to the front of her mind since the guys had left.

But every second that passed meant they were one second closer to being jolted out of existence. Every second that passed brought them closer and closer to their doom. Every second brought them closer and closer to that horrifying nightmare she had.

But it was just a nightmare, she tried to remind herself. It wasn’t real and she was going to help the guys peacefully cross over tonight. But then why was her dream so vivid and detailed? Was it-

No. She steadied her breathing and made her way back inside the studio, worrying about this wasn’t going to do anything, anything good at least. She decided to spend the morning in song writing in the studio, but when the guys came back with info about the Orpheum, the events of the day started unfolding in an eerily familiar pattern. A pattern suspiciously like her vivid nightmare from the night before. By the time she was at the Orpheum and the guys were once again running late, she brought up her concerns to Flynn.

“Have you ever had deja vu? Or had an oddly vivid dream that came true in real life?” Julie asked abruptly, causing Flynn to pause munching on the snacks that had been left in the room.

She gave Julie an odd look before replying, “Closest thing I can think of is a vague sense of deja vu when I was younger, but nothing vivid. Any particular reason you’re asking me this?”

Julie sighed. “Kinda. Last night I had this super vivid dream of today that ended with the guys being jolted out of existence. I failed and they experienced pain up until the moment they were just erased from all existence. And normally that wouldn’t scare me, because it was just a dream, but every single thing that happened in the dream has happened, and I’m terrified I’m going to have to watch them die all over again!”

Flynn placed the snacks on the table so she could move closer to Julie and give her a hug.

“C’mon that’s not going to happen. It’s not going to play out, it’s just a dream. And even if it did, they’re going to cross over, this is their unfinished business. My guess is the part in the dream where they die was simply your brain creating what you fear is going to happen. As for the rest of the day...well I can’t really comment on that, I’m neither a psychic nor a psychologist.”

There was a knock on the door followed by the stage manager calling out, “Hey Julie! It’s time!”

“Just a second!” she called back.

“Look, not to sound weird for using a dream of all things as a source of valid information, but what happened in the dream at this point? Did they come?” Flynn inquired.

Julie looked like she was holding back tears as she shook her head and said, “Yeah, they come in partway through the performance, that’s not even my main worry right now. I just-” she rests her forehead against Flynn’s. “I don’t know if I can-”

The stage manager once again knocks on the door and announces, “Hey Julie! You’re on!”

With too many emotions swirling around, Julie pushed her way out the door and into the alley at the side of the Orpheum, ignoring her best friend's shouts behind her. As she takes a breath of the stink of Hollywood Boulevard, she finally lets out the tears she had been holding in.

“I don’t know if you can hear me mom, but I don’t think I can do this. If I was supposed to help the guys, I don’t think I can. They’re not here, and I’m scared that even if they do come, it won’t matter. I’m worried they’re not going to come, but I’m terrified that I’ll have to watch them die; I don’t know if I can do that a second time. I just-” she gives a soft sniffle before saying, “I miss you so much. Every day. And it hurts every day that you’re not with us. The guys have helped, playing music with them makes me feel closer to you. Every time I look into the audience, I can see you smiling and cheering me on.

I miss you Mom. More than you can ever know. I miss being held in your arms and being told everything’s going to be okay, because even when all the odds say it’s not, you still made me believe it anyway.” She’s trying to wipe her tears from her eyes when she notices a woman next to her offering her a flower. It’s a dahlia. A red dahlia, like the ones Mom used to love. She hugs the flower to her chest and she feels like she can feel everything that made her mom who she was. She can hear her mothers laugh ringing in her ears, right next to the beautiful melody that is her voice, and she can feel the warmth of her hugs, can smell the flowery perfume she always used, and she can almost see her mom’s signature dark curls.

With the dahlia in hand, Julie barrels back through the Orpheum side door, heading straight for the stage, stopping only to show Flynn the dahlia and declare, “Signs,” before rushing onto the stage, not even thinking about what she was doing. Seeing the dahlia had reminded Julie of Flynn’s theory that her mom was behind everything, and took the flower as a sign to go up on stage. To keep going. To stand tall.

And she did. She performed the Orpheum, and her boys came and being up on that stage gave her a ridiculous amount of euphoria. After the guys disappeared and she was hounded by her family and Flynn backstage, the adrenaline from the night almost caused her to forget about the guys. Almost.

Once they get back home, Julie wants nothing more than to go to the studio, but is stopped when Carlos asks her, “Hey Julie, can I talk to you for a sec?”

“Uh, sure just give me a minute.”

“Ok, I’ll wait up. Don’t ghost me,” he responded, adding a completely unsubtle wink at the end, causing Julie’s eyes to grow wide in shock. Had he figured it out? If so, how? Or was this just another one of his theories that didn’t hold any merit?

She shook her head, deciding to deal with that later, before turning to her dad and saying, “Just a minute,” and headed for the studio.

She opened the doors and stared inside the darkened room, taking a large shuddery breath, scared of what she’d find if she turned on the light. Scared that the guys’ didn’t cross over, but instead are here, collapsed on the floor, moments away from dying a second time. Not wanting to prolong this any further, she reached over to the switch on the wall and turned the light on, and lo and behold, there they were piled on top of each other just as she feared, and seeing them like this caused her breathing to grow more ragged, which wasn’t helped by a jolt that simultaneously racked the boys bodies.

They coughed and moaned from the jolt but forced themselves up once they saw Julie and all tried to put on brave faces for her.

“Julie what are you doing here, why didn’t you just go straight to bed?” Reggie asked.

“I said she’d come out here, but nobody ever listens to me,” Alex complains.

Julie sniffled and pointlessly tried to wipe her eyes before saying, “I, uh, wanted to say goodbye and to thank you guys.”

Watching them now feels so much worse than the dream. She knew playing the Orpheum wasn’t going to work, yet she still performed there anyway. Now there was nothing she could do. They were being forced to relive the pain of dying over and over again, until they were wiped from existence entirely. There were so many things she wanted to do with them, and things they wanted to do. In fact, there was something they needed to do, considering they were ghosts in the first place and therefore had unfinished business. They had so much ahead of them, yet their time was being cut short too early, just like their lives in ‘95.

She collapses onto the floor and tries to get as close to them as she can without passing through them; doing so would just be another painful reminder of the separation between her and them, and how much they’re about to be separated permanently.

She numbly listens to them as they list off their final requests just as they did last time, before they’re finally killed and she is left in an empty studio, left with nothing but instruments that won’t be used again and her tears. Oddly enough, just like in her dream she finds the world being taken over by a blinding white light accompanied with still quiet before-

Looks like today is gonna be another sunny day, with temperatures in the low to mid eighties.

Julie’s eyes shoot open and quickly shuts off the alarm trying to make sense of what just happened. Why was she back in her room? What was that white light? Her theory about a dream turned out to be garbage since you can’t have a dream within a dream right? Confused, Julie reached over to her nightstand to grab her phone to check the date and what she saw nearly made her choke on air.

Saturday, March 7, 2020

That was yesterday’s date. And now that she thought about it, it was the date for the day before as well. Panicking now, Julie goes straight for Flynn’s contact and texts her:

Julie: 911

Julie: Flynn

Julie: Get here asap

Julie: Somethings wrong

Flynn: What

Flynn: Jules whats wrong

Julie: Idk

Julie: Its weird

Julie: Just come here itll be easier to explain in person

Flynn: Alright be there in 5

Julie closed her phone, sighed, fell back into her pillows and groaned. This was going to be a long day. Again.

#jatp time loop au #jatp #julie molina #my writing #flynn taylor #julie and the phantoms #mine #reggie peters #luke patterson #alex mercer

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wishonastar7 · 3 years

Text

Timely Fate5

Starting the Paid Service(4)

I could hear laughter escape Dokja's lips but I ignored him in favor of opening the pdf that had been sent to me by the author. The file extension was txt.

[You have obtained an exclusive attribute]

[The exclusive skill slot has been activated]

[You have obtained an exclusive attribute]

[The exclusive skill slot has been activated]

My eyes widened in surprise. I knew that Dokja had gained an exclusive attribute while checking out the novel but I didn't think I would as well, and to think that I would gain two.

'Attribute Window.' I silently thought, a bit surprised when a screen that read [You cannot activate the Attribute Window] appeared. Thinking 'Attribute Weapon' once more, I was disappointed to be met with the same screen.

How the hell am I supposed to know my skills and attributes now? I closed my eyes, rubbing my forehead before hearing a small ding in my mind. I looked up and saw a small blue screen at the corner of my right side.

Curiously, I pressed on it. Immediately it opened up to show a screen that said [Companions].

The first one on the list was Dokja, then Yoo Sangah, Lee Gilyoung, Lee Hyunsung, and lastly Yoo Jonghyuk. Their names were gray though and besides their names were two boxes. The bigger one said [Info/Status] while the smaller one said [Request],

I quickly set Gilyoung down only to have him latch onto my fingers.

'Curious.' I clicked on the [Request] besides Dokja's name and saw Dokja's eyebrows raise. He gave me a quick look before the grey box on his name turned a bright blue with the words [Request] being replaced with [Accepted]. The [Info/Status] was 'on' now too and there were also three new circles stacked on top of each other on the far end of the box. One was a picture of a mic, the middle one a messaging symbol, and the last two hands stretched towards each other.

My eyebrows raised. A trading option. Oh, I could get lucky with this.

I tapped the messaging icon, only to find no keyboard. 'Hey Dokja' I thought, not surprised to see the words appear on the 'text' box. An arrow showing [Send] appeared beside it and I pressed on it.

It took a while before he responded. {Ha-Neul, is this one of your attributes?}

{Yeah} I responded. {I got two but I can't open my attribute window so I can't see what the other one is called.}

{I see. You shouldn't go around telling people about your attributes though.}

{I know. But I trust you and I was wondering if you may have had the same problem as I did.}

{..I did.} He sent a frowny face. I looked over to see him frowning, {This attribute is pretty cool. Look's like it'll be useful.}

Almost simultaneously we went 'offline' and looked down at our phones, I started looking through the novel. Wondering how we would get through this. Even though I knew how it would end, I'm here to fuck things up and not have Dokja die so many times.

[Your reading skill has increased due to the effect of the exclusive attribute] I was surprised for a second, but suddenly I had finished reading ten chapters in less than thirty seconds.

Suddenly, I caught a line.

[He saw people gathered at the back door of the 3707 compartment. The wheel of the tightly held lighter was cold. In this life, he absolutely couldn't make any mistakes. He would use any means possible. He took in the expression of fear in everyone's faces. He felt no guilt. Everything was fleeting. He looked down at the people with merciless eyes. After a while, his fingertips moved and fire rose. Then it all started.}

Fuck.

Without checking, I already knew what carriage we were on. [3807]. No matter how friendly Yoo Jonghyuk and I had been before his current regression, I wasn't in any others. He would suspect both me and Dokja. This carriage was doomed for death.

[He looked through the blurred window at the 3807 compartment. It was already too late. It was inevitable. Anyway, only two people survived in that compartment.]

Double fuck.

Quickly, I pulled up the [Companions] window and sent a request to everyone on the list. Unsurprisingly, Gilyoung accepted first. He looked up at me and I ruffled his hair.

Yoo Sangah accepted a few seconds later, followed by Lee Hyunsung but Yoo Jonghyuk's stayed on a purple [Request Sent].

Not that I expected anything. I could teach the others how to use it later, what was more important right now, though, was getting the first kill.

"Dokja-ssi, Ha-Neul-ssi, shouldn't we stop this?" Yoo Sangah suddenly said, looking towards a young man crouching down in front of the elderly woman.

I narrowed my eyes. That motherfucker.

"Shit!" He said, pulling at his collar. "I'm in a bad mood and this old lady keeps whining and groaning! Can't you shut up?" The young man was a high school student who had previously been leaning up against the entrance. I had seen his eyes flicker towards me a couple of times while the Dokkaebi had been speaking but I had chosen to ignore him.

With his thin figure and dyed-white hair, it was obvious who he was before I even had to read the name tag on his uniform. Kim Namwoon.

[Only lee Hyunsung and Kim Namwoon survived in that compartment. It doesn't matter, those are the only ones that I need anyway.] That was what Yoo Jonghyuk had thought in the original novel.

I wonder if he thought the same thing now, perhaps he did.

"Didn't I tell you to shut up?" The agitated teen grabbed the elderly women's collar, her powerless legs staggering. Kim Namwoon's palm moved through the air.

Slap! Slap!

I couldn't help but feel disappointed even though it was expected that no one would do anything. In normal times, multiple people would have come up to stop him and protect the grandma. Now, no one did a thing.

It didn't take long for the slaps to change into punches.

The old woman begged for help.

Surprisingly, or unsurprisingly, it was Han Myungoh (the department head), that spoke up first.

"Y-young man! Treating an elder like this-"

"Hey old man, do you have a death wish?"

"What?"

"You heard me, do you have a death wish? You still don't understand the situation?"

"What bullshit is the brat saying?"

Kim Namwoon pointed toward the ceiling of the subway train. There, a screen showed not just the deaths on the trains and High Schools but also people dying all over the country.

People cried and begged.

Others laughed sadistically or moaned in pain.

"Don't you understand? There's no way the army is coming to rescue us. Someone has to die."

"W-what are you saying...?"

"We have to choose who has to die."

Han Myungho didn't answer. The entire compartment was completely silent. Not a single breath.

I directed my burning gaze from the white-haired teen to the older woman.

Kim Namwoon had been the fastest way to survive in the new world of 'Ways of Survival.'

"A new world requires new laws old man, you heard what it said. Kill someone."

It wasn't because he was especially smart or anything. No. Kim Namwoon was a psychopath who found joy in others' misery.

He turned back to the older woman and started kicking her. "Hahh... It's really hard to kill." He looked back up to the others who had been standing motionlessly. "What, are you gonna just stand there, watching? Do you want to fall behind?"

He also had a way with words.

The others started trembling at his words, looking from one another.

"This-this bastard is right."

"Someone needs to die s-so that the o-others can live!"

A few people inched towards him and joined him in hesitantly kicking the older woman. Slowly their kicks became stronger and stronger and they even started hurling insults towards her.

"Die! Die quickly!"

I looked at the old woman then down to Lee Gilyoung who had been looking up at me for some time now. I pushed down my mask, brushed the hair off of his forehead, and leaned down to kiss him on the forehead.

"I'll be right back little darling."

I placed my bookbag down and took out a sleek black rectangular prism that was five inches tall and two inches in both width and length. It was cool to the touch but more dangerous than the seemingly 'innocent' look it had.

"Take care of this for me, all right?" Gilyoung nodded. With the fanny pack across his chest, the small blue taser in his right hand, and my bag in his left, he watched me walk away and towards the others.

I twirled the rectangular prism around in my right hand. When I was less than five feet away from the group, Kim Namwoon turned around and looked at me with a cocky smirk. My face remained neutral as I pressed a small button at the end of the prism.

In less than five seconds, the rectangular prism contorted into a needle-like shape that was well over three feet long. Its tip was dangerously sharp and its base was just thick enough to wrap my hand around. The sleek black needle wasn't heavy nor light but I felt no strain as I pointed its tip to Kim Namwoon's face.

"Everybody stop. You can't live if you kill the grandma." Kim Namwoon's face froze as he went cross-eyed looking at the tip. The others slowly looked up at me, faces paling as they saw the thorn-like weapon in my hands.

"Ok, say you kill the grandma. Then what next? Sure the grandma's death will buy some time as long as you kill her within the five-minute limit. But then what?"

"Ah..."

"If the dokkaebi told the truth, then you'll each have to kill someone. So, who will you kill after the grandmother? Who's going to be next?"

Horror slowly filled their eyes, as they listened to my word. In fact, they knew it was the truth. They knew my words were right.

Kim Namwoon saw the shaky figures of the others. He slowly backed away from me. Grinning.

"Haha! What are you saying? All we have to do is kill you next! Cowards, don't worry about your turn in advance. The odds are equal."

I let out a chuckle. He would be more believable if he wasn't backing away from me. I waved my free hand, "There's no need to kill anyone."

Immediately everyone looked up at me. "In fact, there's a way to pass this first mission without becoming a murderer."

"What?"

"Then what is it?"

Kim Namwoon scowled as the people slowly became agitated.

"Have you all forgotten?" I walked closer to the grandma and motioned for the others to come towards me. Once all three of them had arrived, I took the bag from Gilyoung and took out the box of crickets. I grabbed one and held it out for the others to see.

"The condition for the scenario isn't 'Kill A Person.'" That was when people noticed the condition properly.

[Kill one or more living things]

Kill one or more living things. Even if I had never read the novels, I thought that at least I would've been able to read the clear condition properly. Killing a 'person' had never been specified.

"I-I-insect!"

"G-give me an insect!"

I slowly applied pressure on the cricket.

"That's right, the insects." I slowly stepped back as the shining eyes of the others became closer and closer with every step they took towards me. The only ones who stayed in their places were Kim Dokja, Yoo Sangah, Lee Gilyoung (who Yoo Sangah had dragged to stand beside her, I was thankful), and Kim Namwoon who was silently fuming.

"Do you want them?" I waved the clear box of crickets in the air, my heart beating heavily and a smile threatening to break out. I was excited.

"P-please give me one!"

"Only one! I only need one!"

I crushed the cricket in my hand.

[You have achieved the 'First Kill' achievement]

[100 coins have been earned as additional compensation]

I threw the box in my hand as far away as I could. It landed on the other side of the compartment, as far away from the grandma and my little group as possible.

"Then go get them."

The crickets jumped out immediately as soon as they were given their freedom. A few even jumped towards us and both Kim Dokja and Yoo Sangah were given a chance to grab a cricket and crush it.

I looked down at Gilyoung. Who had already moved to my side, and noticed him looking at the hand full of insect guts in mild disgust. I chuckled before handing a baby wipe, from my bag to him and the others. I looked up at the mess I had created.

I felt an almost sadistic-like thrill crawl up my spine as I let out an unrestrained grin.

How amusing.

(2199)

#ORV #OMNISCIENT READER'S VIEWPOINT #FANFICTION #OC #ORVSPOILERS #YOO JONGHYUK #KIM DOKJA #YOO JONGHYUK X OC #KIM DOKJA X OC #SLOWBURN-ISH #MUTUAL PINING #FRIENDS TO LOVERS #KOREAN WAS GOOGLE TRANSLATED #KOREANWEBTOONBASED #KOREANLIGHTNOVELBASED

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callioope · 3 years

Text

Thoughts on Critical Role Campaign 2 Episode 133 below the cut!

Post-Battle Capeleb Scene

Me to spouse as I was pressing play: “I apologize ahead of time for any squealing this episode may cause.”

Cut to Capeleb picking up Essek after the battle! All King Kong style!!! Shoving him in front of the two clerics like “Heal him!!!” ahhhh that definitely got a squeal ... incidentally just as my husband was starting a call... oops.

Bonus: Caduceus being like “dude I wanna heal you too”

Bonus 2: everyone like “Caleb you can put him down” Caleb: nO *puts Essek on his back* i mean caleb knows better than anyone you gotta protect the squishy wizard

Bonus 3!: Jester’s comment about “He doesn’t think clearly when he’s an animal.” and Essek’s “Evidently!” lol

Let the Cleric Rest!

Okay earlier in the episode, when Laura was insistent on “guys we need to start our long rest ASAP,” I felt that in my bones. I play a cleric in the Tomb of Annihilation campaign I’m in, and we spent 3 or 4 sessions stuck in a dungeon filled with poison gas where we took 1d6 poison damage every hour. So no long rests there. Top that off with the fact that we’ve been in the Chultan jungle even longer, and we don’t get long rests unless we can find and secure a very safe location, and the pain of being a spellcaster and not getting a long rest is REAL.

And then no one was acknowledging her at first! Yeah later Fjord and Beau were like “yeah yeah we agree” but she had to say it so many times!!! And I kept shouting at my screen “listen to Laura Bailey!!!” thinking “my dudes you can do ALL of this talking and planning while you rest pleeeeze get that rest it” because I play a cleric too and running out of a spells is a thing.

Of course, having finished the episode/in hindsight, I’m actually not sure if the even had a full 8 hours from the moment Jester finished her Commune with Artagan to the moment the Tomb Takers arrived, but still. I feel so bad for Laura right now knowing she only has ONE SPELL SLOT left and they’re going up against the Lucien and Cree. She’s clever so I’m sure she’ll think of something but that just is a really sucky feeling going into any battle knowing you don’t have a lot of slots left, let alone The Super Scary Big Battle ahead. soo. yeah. Gonna be worrying about that all week through the end of the next episode.

Also side note but jeez poor Laura rolling two one’s on that Heroes Feast. She needs to cleanse her dice or buy new ones altogether. she has the WORST luck with rolls.

TOWER TALK & TOUR!!!!!

IT!!! FINALY!!! HAPPENED!!!! I have been longing for Essek to see the Tower since episode 124 if not longer and at last! It was wonderful. AND CALEB SHOWED HIM THE NINTH FLOOR!!! amazing. fantastic. and what a talk. what a talk. ughh yes. they didn’t really have much time in the Tower outside of the Heroes Feast and the long rest but i’m sooooo glad Caleb got the chance to give the tour and they could talk. YAY!

Pursuing Lucien & Cree

Does anyone have any ideas of what they can do here? UGHH i wanna speculate on the best strategy for them (just because I find it to be a fun thought exercise). Like digging through the collapsed tunnel might take too long? Although we have no idea how long Lucien and Cree need. Hopefully the lack of the rest of the 3 Tomb Takers slows them down somewhat but who even knows at this point. I’ve been wondering if there are any teleportation spells that might work -- but Essek’s teleport is way too high to risk in Aeor right? Wonder if there’s any spells to magically clear the rubble? I’m stumped on this one. Super excited to see what they do but in the meantime while I have to wait would love to ponder this puzzle.

Fjord & the Rangers

not super wanting to like dive into intense discourse about this but like. I did have thoughts so here goes. I don’t blame Fjord for making the decision that he did, he had to make a spilt second decision and it seemed very in character for him to choose what he did. It did seem like he was trying to stall to help his party members get more rest, and it makes sense that he’d want to do that, BUT. here’s the thing. Battles in DND only take a minute or so TOPS. There’ s no way the battle itself would slow down the TT. If you’re hoping to delay the TT, you gotta hope the rangers can do enough damage to force them to at least take a short rest if not a long one. That’d only give an hour and that’s still not enough for the long rest the M9 need.

ALL THAT SAID!!! I think there’s a very good chance that whatever that battle did helped lower the TT’s HP enough so that the traps the M9 laid could finish off the three members it did. So I don’t think it was in vain. Worth it as a delay tactic? Ehh not really. Worth it to hurt the TT? Yes.

And while I do think that Fjord and Essek knew the chances were high they were sending the rangers to their Doom (a) I think the rangers being here in Aeor know that’s an everyday possibility to begin with, and (b) I still think there’s a chance they might have been able to survive/flee. Maybe the TT decided to push past them and fled from the skirmish themselves? Yes it’s possible everyone (including Dagen T_T) fell during that battle, but I don’t think that’s set in stone.

Also I don’t think the TT would think it’s weird to come across the rangers, they likely already knew they were there. And another thing -- even if they were like “Hmm rangers coincidentally by the entrance we were going to use?” Look they know the M9 became unscryable AND were trying to stop them. I honestly think the TT knew to be on the lookout for TM9 no matter what. And in hindsight -- which obvs Fjord did not have but we know now -- Lucien way underestimated them bc hey, despite everything, the trap still worked. Like, very much of what the M9 was trying to do during this whole arc was keep their cards close to their chest so Lucien would underestimate them. They really did lay the groundwork for that when they were traveling with them. Yeah technically they sort of revealed some of their hand during the Gelidon fight buuut they also ran from the TT limping later that day. So. Yeah. Anyways.

I’m rambling now and gotta go start dinner. But those are my initial thoughts!!!! Happy to engage in polite discourse. Main things I love talking about are theories for what happens next!!! and also hello, this is my first like, big post in the tag although I’ve already posted a few times in the shadowgast tag.

#critical role #critrole c2 #critrole spoilers #shadowgast

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dracjoonie · 4 years

Text

| ⋄ Moonchild ⋄ | Mer!Joon AU |Chap.2 Mudskipper|

⥼ Pairings : Mermaid!Namjoon x Human!Fem!Reader

⥼ Tags : Fluff, eventual smut, slow-ish burn, do Mermen count as hybrids?.. mer!joon x fem!reader

⥼ Summary : What happens when a son of the moon and sea discovers the surface for the first time. And as he stumbles through it; trying to adjust to these new things she called “feet” and “legs”, would it be the surface he fell for, or her?

Basically, Namjoon as the little mermaid~ Minus the whole plot.

⥼ Word Count : 4.5k

⥼ A/N : I know its been a long time since I updated, and I’m really sorry about that ^^” I had a lot of doubts around where I wanted the story to go, but I think I’m all sorted out now! Anyway, I hope this is well received <3

You tasted salt again. Felt it burning in your eyes and deep in your sinuses. You wished your scream when the wave hit sounded less embarrassing, but you figured it didn’t matter. It wasn’t like you were the only one. Though he looked relieved when he saw the great big shadow of a wave looming above the both of you.

And he was, but that feeling lasted about as quickly as it came.

The wave knocked you back like a steel wall, and then dragged you forward harshly against the rough sand. Not into the ocean, thankfully. It dragged you far enough for your skin to feel raw. But that had nothing to do with why his relief was so short lived.

He thought the water would bring his tail back.

He was wrong.

So what does a Moonchild do when faced with extra limbs, too many joints, and not enough coordination? Turns out they scream. A lot. You would think something that lived primarily underwater wouldn’t have a set of lungs like that, but you were wrong. Baby’s and sirens should have told you that. But the longer he went the more you wondered if he needed air to breath at all.

“COULD YOU CALM DOWN ALREADY!?”

“CALM DOWN!!?? YOU WANT ME TO CALM DOWN!?? WHY DO I HAVE LEGS!!?? WHAT ARE THOSE!!?? WHAT IS THIS!?? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO CALM DOWN!?? I’M UGLY!!!”

“Over dramatic much? jeez..”

“WHAT!??”

You began to try and pick yourself up out of the sand, wanting to avoid near drowning for what would become the third time that day.

“You screaming. It’s dramatic.”

“How am I supposed to react!!?? -Wait, how did you do that!!?” You turned back to flash him a quizzical expression; forgetting for a moment that he had probably never seen someone “walk” before.

You had only walked a couple of feet up the shore away from him, but for him that was way too far for comfort. Like you ditched him on a bike with no training wheels, except the pavement was slippery sand -if sand was outer space. He flipped himself onto his stomach and did what he could to drag himself after you. He learned fast though, switching to a military-esc crawl when he realized you can only pull yourself so far in a substance with little to no leverage.

You watched him, still in disbelief that this whole situation was actually happening.

Soon he made it to the end of his difficult journey, grabbing at your ankles with his dried out hands and huffing out in exasperation.

“How did you travel like that!?” You snorted at his phrasing.

“I walked.” He tilted himself in the sand to glare up at you, his sharp eyes still too shiny and vibrant to be intimidated by. Especially in his position, with his half wet and half dried clumps of hair invading his face from all sides. You chuckled, squatting down so he wouldn’t have to strain so hard with his feeble glaring. You startled him again with your speed, but he only jolted a little and kept his grip around your ankles.

“I’ll show you how.” His eyes got real big at that.

“To.. wal-k? -I can’t do that.”

You had to smile half heatedly at his defeated expression and that sorry look in his eyes. “I just want to swim..” He continued, a sad note in his voice.

“Well we can figure out your missing tail situation later, for now let me just get you walking so you don’t cook and die out here.” You realized how poor your choice of words were when he started scrambling around in fear. “THAT CAN HAPPEN!!?? WHY DO YOU LIVE UP HERE!!??”

“Uhh forget I said that, I was exaggerating.. Mostly. Flip over for me, ok?”

He stammered, but did as he was told. He flopped back on his back, looking up at you sternly. You were able to ignore how naked he was right up until then, you shifted your gaze to the skys trying to talk yourself back into ignoring it until you could get him off the beach and clothed. That wasn’t really a conversation you were willing to have right now, it was barely morning and the day already felt too long. You only hoped he wouldn’t ask you anything specific.. That didn’t have to do with his legs.

You walked around his form, sitting yourself back in the sand beside his knees. You grabbed his hand that laid beside him, and he gripped yours tightly.

“I’m gonna help you sit first -give me your other hand too." He strained to look at you from on his back while reaching out to you with his other hand. You held them both now, each of your hands holding one of his reassuringly. You pulled on his arms, not too hard or too fast, just enough to raise his torso slowly off the sand. His balance wavered and tilted once he was upright, but instead of falling back he spread his legs and landed with his palms in the sand between them. He looked stunned, and you stayed at bay waiting for his next reaction. He smiled, a touch of confidence reaching his full lips.

"Did I do it?" You tried your best not to laugh at him too much at the excitement in his voice.

"Yeah, you've got step one down -now bend your knees."

"My what?"

“Your… leg elbows." He frowned as he looked down at his new appendages, trying to pin point what it was you were talking about. He made an audible "ah!" When he figured it out.

You held your hands out again as a balancing option but he was doing just fine staying upright on his own now. He bent one leg up, looking shocked that only one of them moved when he coaxed it. He tucked his leg in close to his chest with his foot planted in the sand before he fought to do the same with the other leg.

"Like this?" You nodded as you stood back up and stepped directly in front of him. He gently placed a foot on each of his in preparation as he watched you curiously.

"So these-" you tapped your feet over his to make a point. "Are your feet, to stand you have to balance all your weight on them. The sand’s gonna be moving under them so this isn’t gonna be ideal, but this is what we're working with." You bent down and urged him to give you his hands again, and he did.

"You ready?" He yelped a yes in reply and you took the que. You pulled on his hands, feeling him tensing the muscles in his legs to catch his own weight.

"Push on your feet." He nodded, tensing his legs more and helping you raise him up fully. He shot up quickly once he figured out the trick to it, startling you this time. He stood taller than you, which was concerning when he started to tip over.

"PUT YOUR ARMS OUT FOR BALANCE!" You shrieked, moving your feet off of his and throwing your hands up to catch his shoulders if it came to that. Suddenly his head was suspended a foot under yours.

He had bent his knees. He was still wavering in the wind a little bit, but he was standing; mostly, all on his own.

"Hey!! You've got step two down...kinda. Can you straighten up?" He glanced up at you, his eyebrows knitted in concentration but you could see that he was gonna try his best at whatever you asked him to do. He started to straighten his legs out, his arms still far from his sides. He raised up slowly watching your eyes the whole way until he was stood above you again. Something behind you caught his eye and he reeled, ducking back down and hiding his face in your shoulder as he gripped onto you for balance.

"The sun.."

You gripped his arms as you looked down at him questioningly.

"Yeah..? It's sunrise now." You glanced back behind you being sure not to budge him and looked back at all the reds and pinks of the morning sky, the sun peeking up over the water. You were thankful for it, that little bit of sunlight was the only thing keeping you warm in your drenched clothing.

"I'm not supposed to be on the surface when the sun is rising -I'm not supposed to be up here at all -but especially not when she's chasing the moon away."

You were dumbfounded.

"Um.. well. You might have to make an acception today-"

"Are you not scared of her?"

You realized that this must have been some deep rooted merpeople thing, maybe the reason no one had ever seen one before. But he was on the sand now with the sun peaking over the horizon, and he was doing just fine. Whatever impending doom he was sacred of couldn’t have been real.. Or true -you hoped.

"Uhh.. no?" You questioned, seeing if he would say more but all he did was keep his head tucked into your shoulder. You patted his arms timidly, trying to conjure him some comfort.

“Hey.. Whats your name anyway?” He peaked up at you, his eyes swirling and glimmering in the rising light.

“Its Namjoon, and you?” He said in a rush.

“Y/n.. Listen -its ok if you’re scared of the sun, but its only gonna get higher in the sky the longer we stand here.” That didn’t help, and you knew that as soon as the words left your mouth and you saw him start to tremble.

“..Namjoon, really.. It’s not gonna hurt you. Just focus on the ocean, isn’t it beautiful like this?”

That time did something. He started to peak his head up again, his earrings dangling as he moved on wobbly legs. He rose up, still jumpy, but determined. He held onto you the whole way up with his eyes so full of wonder as he calmed himself enough to look at the scenery behind you. You turned your head to see what he was seeing. The stark red glow of the sun as it broke through the horizon, still just a crescent on the surface but its light reflected off the waves and made the clouds glow in pinks and oranges. He stood like that a while; bravely, long enough for you to turn back to him and see the ocean in his eyes.

“See?” He only nodded.

“But don’t stare too long, I’m not sure what it’ll do to your big fish eyes.” “-Hey!” He looked at you again, wobbling from how quick he turned to you with an offended look on his face. “..I’m not a fish.” He pouted as he spoke and you couldn’t help giggling at his expense.

“Yeah, yeah. Lets get you walking fish boy.” Despite his pout he still nodded and looked back down at his new feet. You stepped back from him with your hands still out to catch him if he fell.

“Ok -step three. You’ll need to lift up one foot at a time and put them down in front of each other one behind the other -like this.” You stopped to demonstrate under his incredulous glare. He huffed and lifted his first foot, he tipped over but lept that foot forward in the sand to catch himself in time. He flung his hands out in the air again for balance too, just like you taught him.

“Heyy! That’s one step, now do the other one.” He glared up at you again and you grinned. You never thought you would be teaching a grown man to walk, but there was something endearing about it all. He tried stepping with the other foot and balanced it better this time as he placed it in the sand just in front of his first one. He tried it a few more times, turning a corner and just trying to get a hang of it. He stood a little straighter the longer he kept trying.

You let him walk on his own until he was walking circles around you. Somewhere along the line he figured out how to hop and land on his toes, he was very fond of that. You were happy he was having such a good time after he had just been screaming his lungs out. But unfortunately there was another thing you needed to point out to him, preferable before other onlookers started to show up.

“Hey Namjoon!?” You shouted to him, waving your arms to coax him over from the direction his skipped off to. Somehow he figured out how to do little spinning jumps when you weren’t watching. He landed on his tip toes but it didn’t look like he was expecting the wave of dizziness that hit him once he stopped spinning. You watched him giggle and tip sideways to one knee mid wave.

“Y/n!! Everything is spinning!! The surface is fun!!” You chuckled at him as you made it over to where he was. You watched him flop himself on his back and dance his fingers up towards the sky. Now that the sun was up you could see the delicate pastels in his hair more clearly. Strands of lilac and mint and powdered blues evenly blended amongst soft silvers and cool whites.

“Not to burst your bubble, but there’s something you should know.” His ears perked up as he fought to focus on your figure looming above him.

“You’re naked.” He frowned up at you, flopping his hand in your direction

“And you’re not.” You sighed. This really wasn’t something you were up for explaining more in depth.

“Uh.. we don’t really do that up here.. Be naked! That is..In public.” He tilted his head in the sand as he continued to frown.

“Why?” You thought about it for a second. Of course you knew why. It was awkward, it was distracting. It wasn’t a common occurrence to see some adult man zipping around showing full frontal. Not to mention it wasn’t exactly kid friendly. But you weren’t sure how to explain all that to him, or where to start. You banked on a shorter answer.

“I don’t know, its inappropriate?”

“Why?” He said again, unsatisfied. You pinched your brow as you thought again.

“It’s distracting?”

“Are you distracted?” He didn’t miss a beat when he questioned you back. And you really didn’t want to answer that. So you didn’t.

“... Anyway. I found this abandoned towel.. You should wrap it around your waist so we can go into town without you mooning anybody.”

“Mooning?” He sat up as he questioned you, wresting his elbows on his fresh new knees. You already felt too mentally drained from his previous questions, you didn’t even think about touching that one.

“You’ll have to figure that one out on your own.” You tossed the towel into his lap as he rose a brow at you, but he ultimately obliged once he got himself upright again.

You hadn’t given much thought to your own situation until you were walking back into the town you thought you finally got away from. It turned out jumping ship wasn’t the most productive strategy for getting away. And you still weren’t sure what happened in between you watching the lights of your home town get farther and farther away --and the burn of salt water filling your lungs. Regardless, you were thankful Namjoon saved you. Even if among all the chaos he brought with him you hadn’t found the time to thank him yet. You would make sure to. Your personality may be flippant most of the time, but you really were thankful. This guy just left his whole world to save your life without even thinking, and because of that there was a small chance he couldn’t ever get back.

You felt for him and would do everything you could to help him find his tail, but your first form of thank you would be to show him around your small town on the surface. Surfing the web for merman lore to help send him home could come later. For now, a good distraction from his current predicament was in order. And distractions were just about everything for him.

He was first fascinated when you made your way off the beach and he came in contact with the side walk for the first time. And fencing..and how sharp gravel is. And the way his mouth dropped when he finally looked up and saw his first building was a sight to see. You wished the milestone would be something better than a public restroom, but he was happy enough. He really wanted to go inside, but you promised him you would take him somewhere better.. Somewhere cleaner.

When he spotted his first tree was the same time he learned how to run. He ran right up to this great big palm tree and flung his arms around it, resting his ear against its trunk.

“This is alive!!” He exclaimed, and all you could do was giggle as you watched him look up and sway in tandem with the fluttering of its leaves. "Its old.. it must have watched the moon and the sun chase each other so many times.. What do I call you?"

"That's a palm tree" He grinned. "A palm tree, amazing. I hope you don't mind if I rest my palms on you."

"It's just a plant, they don't have feelings." Something in the air moved when you said that, something other than Namjoon's jaw dropping to the sand.. "Are all humans this rude.” You knew it was the tree he was asking, so you merely rolled your eyes and kept walking down the sunny side walk with a grin.

Finding him clothes didn’t take much time at all, street vendors were practically throwing themselves at him when they were barely set up for the morning. He was eye catching, so you weren’t surprised. With his long and delicate silver hair, and his eyes you couldn’t always place a color on. Not to mention how decorated he was in perfect pearls and pearlized sea shells, all wrapped in what you guessed was a seaweed equivalent to twine. Not only was be beautiful, but he looked expensive. And his big curious puppy dog eyes made him look a touch gullible. You couldn’t blame anyone for wanting to sell him their goods until his pockets ran dry. Little did they know it was your pockets, it would be a while before they were dry, and the majority of your funds were still on the ship headed in the opposite direction.

You were looking around at the third booth in a row that Namjoon was ushered into. The sales women had barely spared you a glance, something you didn’t mind at all. You looked around at the little shark tooth necklaces and snickered at the large assortment of mood rings. You checked the price on a few of them, four dollars a piece. You didn’t have much, but you would keep them in mind. They were definitely something you though Namjoon would appreciate.

The sales woman was a lot older; very friendly, and didn’t have much care for personal space. But Namjoon didn’t seem to mind, even when the woman was forking through his hair without asking. Though you might not be able to know if he did have a problem, he could barely get a word in.

“Ohhh! Sweetheart! You’ll love this!” You heard the older woman exclaim, and it wasn’t the first time.

“I do!-”

“Great! I can wrap it for you! It’ll be $10! oHH, wait right there sweety I know something else you’ll just die for!”

You snickered at the whole encounter, still wondering and touching things lightly. Part of you was evilly waiting to see what would happen when the woman found out he was broke. But --she did have shorts in her shop, and that was something he genuinely needed. You made your way around until you were met eye to eye with Namjoon again. You raised your brows at him in a silent question of “Are you ok?” He nodded and blinked, averting his eyes to see where the woman had gone looking. He leaned into you to whisper in your ear shortly after.

“What is a dollar?” You grinned at the innocent question.

“Its money. What do you all use for money down there anyway?” You whispered back. Not that some random old woman would know you were conversing with a merman about merman currency, but you felt weird speaking any louder.

“Oh, we barter. I think some other cultures of moonchildren use money though.”

“So there’s more of you than just where you’re from?” You asked genuinely curious, and he frowned at you like you had just asked the dumbest question in the world.

“Of course?”

“Hey, I didn’t know any existed two hours ago. And you didn’t know about humans, so don’t even.”

He paused.

“..That’s fair.”

Just then the old women popped back up with what she had been rummaging for.

“This here!” She held out an elaborate necklace in her hands. Most of it was made up of several cords with tiny pearlescent blue beads, both sides coming around to the center to hold a good sized oyster shell with moon phases carved into it. It was beautiful; and she was right, he loved it. He gasped when he saw it, holding out his palms for the women to place it in.

“Oh! This is so beautiful! The carving here is so precise, this can’t have been done with a shell pick..” He spun the necklace around in his hands, feeling all the beads and even holding it up to see the moon phases against the sunlight.

“But I don’t have any dollars..” The woman’s demeanor changed, just as you knew it would. She reached up for his hands with her short stature, securing the necklace away from him.

“No money, no sale.”

“How much is it?” You spoke watching the sad swirl in Namjoon’s eyes. The women almost looked shocked at you, as if she truly didn’t see you until you spoke to her.

“$60.”

“$60? You’re kidding. Those beads are coated plastic, I can tell from here.”

The old women scoffed.

“$40, take it or leave it.” You were about to say something when Namjoon intervened.

“What if we trade? I’ll give you a good pearl for it.” You cringed out of your skin when he said that. You knew how much pearls could be worth, and all of the pearls on his body looked worth well more that a $40 necklace. They could go for thousands.

‘Wait!-” You Grabbed at Namjoons wrists before he could do anything foolish.

“Its ok y/n, I won’t miss it.” He untied what looked like a tiny pouch at his forearm. It was so heavily decorated you wouldn’t have ever known it had a function. You peaked over his shoulder to look inside, and your eyes went wide as you saw at least sixty or so perfect pearls.

‘Wait, wait!” You held your hand out again between them both.

“If you’re going to trade, a good pearl for that necklace, and pair of shorts and shoes for him. How does that sound?” You looked between them both as they both nodded. “And a mood ring” You added. “The nicest one you’ve got.”

“Yes, sure sure. But the pearl better be real.” Namjoon pulled out a little one. It was perfectly round, and the way it shinned almost made it look like it was glowing. The women's eyes went wide as he brought it closer to her, popping it right in her hands. She looked it over with a big grin on her face, and you wanted to scream about what a waste that was. But if Namjoon was happy, that’s what mattered. “The shorts?” You questioned to snap her out of her trance. “Oh yes! Ohh, and I have the perfect ones for you! Hold on just a minute!” The old women jumped up with glee, making her way over to the other side of her little booth. “Come ‘round this way dear! You’ll need to try these on!” Namjoon looked at you unsure, and you simply nodded and gestured for him to go where the women asked. She pulled out a pair of blue and purple tie dye shorts with a large lizard embroidered by the bottom left hem. He smiled as soon as she pulled them out, and you wondered if somehow within the past 15 minutes if she had really cracked the code to understanding his exact tastes, or if he would have smiled like that at anything.

“You’ll love these!”

“I do!-”

“Go on, into the dressing room you go!” Your heart clenched a bit as she squished him into the tiny two foot dressing room. It was all made up of black curtains, and something you yourself would be horrified to get undressed in in such an open area. But seeing as how Namjoon was already naked.. It should be fine?..

He had never even seen shorts before until today, and putting them on might be more confusing for him than you would imagine. As the seconds went by you started to worry.

What if he tore them, or what if while trying to balance he fell right through the curtain and took the whole booth with him. What if he didn’t understand where his legs should go, or if he put them on backwards? As your heart was beginning to race Namjoon made his way out of the dressing room, his new perfectly fitted shorts worn correctly.

“Oh they’re perfect on you! See look in the mirror! How are they? Do you love them!?”

“I do!-”

“Good good! Oh you deserve this too!” She pulled out a little white linen vest almost out of thin air and started to help him place his arms through its holes as Namjoon watched himself in the mirror.

“Oh! its perfect! This one is on the house! You look like a handsome little merman!” You smirked at the accuracy the old woman was unaware of.

“Oh! Thank you!-”

“Beautiful, beautiful! You and your girlfriend have to come back and visit sometime!”

“Uh, we’re not-” You started, but no one heard you -and the suggestion seemed to go right over Namjoon’s head.

“Thank you ma’am! I feel brand new!”

Namjoon bowed his head a little as he held the old woman's hands in thanks.

It didn’t take the women long to wrap up his new necklace in a cute little gift bag, or to let him pick some matching flip flops and a mood ring that peaked his interest. You made sure to grab one of the cards that tell you what all the colors mean, you were sure that could be fun to bring up later. And to maybe see if his ever changing eye color matched up.

Namjoon was strange and other worldly to have around, but despite his circumstances you were excited to watch him see your world for the first time. Maybe he would help you see things in a new light too, maybe moonlight for a change.

#mer!joon #namjoon x reader #mermaid namjoon #bts fluff #bts smut #namjoon smut #bts fanfiction

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creepy-spooghetti · 3 years

Text

A Hapless Endearment [Creepypasta x F. Reader]

Chapter 10 - Tag, You’re It

_____

Jack doesn't return for several minutes, though she can hear the sound of muffled talking from the confines of another room nearby. The words are incoherent and muffled, but considering that there's nobody else in this house that she knows of, she guesses that he's on the phone, mostly based on the fact that the only voice she can hear is Jack's. She ponders what he said to her and tucks her knees into her chest, trying to tame the steadily rising fear that's making itself more and more apparent in her chest.

She knew from the beginning of all this chaos that there had to be a deeper meaning buried beneath the surface, even though she didn't want to acknowledge it and instead opted to come up with valid explanations for everything that happened, reasons that wouldn't make her seem crazy. But now? Now, it doesn't look like she has another option but to accept it. She has to admit, Jack made some pretty reasonable points, even if the points in question take a great suspension of disbelief. How else is she supposed to explain the things that have taken place over the past several days? She didn't have a clue about what was happening and why it was happening, and now she does. But is it the honest-to-God truth?

Being stalked by some supernatural being is definitely hard to believe, but so is mentally predicting the death of one's aunt and uncle, being kidnapped by someone without eyes, and subconsciously drawing some kind of freaky symbol. She hasn't another explanation for all of the eerie occurrences lately, what else is she supposed to think? At least she's been provided with an answer—whether that answer is correct or not has yet to be solved—but it's still an answer. It's more information than she could ever get out of her grandparents or anyone else. A therapist probably wouldn't even know what's going on with her. This way, she has a theory to go off of, something to build around until she finds something more... realistic. More believable.

Her eyes flick up to Jack as he re-enters the room, being ultimately pulled from her deep thoughts and watching him stuff, what she identifies as a phone, into his pocket. He turns her direction, his uncanny oozing gaze sending goosebumps up the length of her arms. "There will be someone over here in a bit to pick you up and take you to Brian's house. She's bringing a pair of shoes with her, too."

Oh, it's a girl. Maybe I can find some common ground and convince her to let me go. Unless she's trapped here too... She brushes a strand of hair behind her ear and sits more naturally in the chair, her feet meeting the hardwood floor and her posture straightening to come across as more intimidating. Granted, she knows she isn't going to intimidate this monster of a man, but it makes her feel a little safer anyway.

"Who is she?" Her words are sharp and straight-to-the-point as she stares up at his tall frame in an attempt to seem, for the most part, fearless.

"Wisteria. Don't get your hopes up, she's almost as bad as Jeff." Releasing a huff, she rolls her eyes though chooses not to respond. "Do you want a glass—no, sorry—do you want a cup of water?" He puts great emphasis on the word 'cup', indirectly reminding her of the way she launched the glass at his head in an attempt to escape previously. It did work out in the end, she supposes, and she would have actually gotten out of this place had Jeff's hellhound for a dog not taken it upon himself to chomp down on her ankle and keep her firmly planted where she laid in the dirt until someone came to retrieve her. That 'someone' being Jeff.

"What, so you can poison me?" She mutters, crossing her arms stubbornly. "I think I'll pass."

"Did you not hear anything I just told you a few minutes ago?" He sighs, running gloved fingers through his copper-brown hair. "If I wanted to hurt you I would have done it by now." Ignoring the dryness in her throat, no doubt from lack of water, she only stares up at him with an obstinate expression, refusing to take anything that he has to offer. After a couple of moments, he too crosses his arms. "Ya know, it won't do you much good if you dehydrate and end up dying anyway."

"I'd rather dehydrate than trust you with anything." They continue to stare at each other for what feels like minutes when in reality it's only around ten seconds before Jack shakes his head in defeat.

"Fine. Suit yourself." He takes a seat on the couch, being mindful to keep a fair amount of distance between himself and Y\n, and leans back to get more comfortable. "I know this is a lot to process, but you're gonna have to get used to the fact that you can't go back home. You can't see your family again, it would be too dangerous for both yourself and them."

"Is that a threat?"

"No. It's a warning. You go back home, try to live a normal life, and you eventually snap. You'd be compelled to go to the very thing you've been trying to avoid and kill whoever got in your way. Even if that includes your family." She leers at him through skeptical e\c eyes, comprehending what he's telling her and trying to brush away the feeling of trepidation that rises within her stomach. "It's happened before. I've seen it, too many times to be proud of. It isn't a nice process."

"You're crazy if you actually think I'd kill someone, much less my own family." It's true that she has less-than-desirable parents, but there's no way that she'd ever lose herself enough to physically harm them or take their lives. She isn't a bad enough kid to do something like that, not even under the direst of circumstances. Especially if it involves her grandparents. They've shown her nothing but kindness and support, why on earth would she ever murder them? The very thought sends shivers down her spine.

"Denial is something most people express at first. But it would happen, whether you wanted it to or not." She shakes her head, furrowing her eyebrows together in objection.

"I would never."

"You say that, but you don't know what he's capable of. You don't know how much power he possesses." She averts her gaze to the ground, hugging her torso insecurely and listening to the slightly muffled words that leave Jack's mouth. "He drives you mad. It may start off subtle, maybe you'll have some bad dreams, or minor coughing fits, nothing too concerning. But it will get worse, and worse, and soon you'll be seeing things that aren't there, becoming paranoid because at every turn you feel like something's watching you, but you don't know where or by what. You'll isolate yourself, refuse to talk to anyone, become distant from your friends, your family, society as a whole. And it will continue getting worse, and worse, and worse until you're at your breaking point. You'll just want it all to stop, you'll just want it to be over. You'll be desperate. So you'll listen to him, obey his commands. He'll take you to your breaking point, all without lifting a finger."

The words leave his mouth slowly, making the situation all the more unnerving. There's a sinister kind of truth to what he says that makes an eerie fog blanket her mind in a sense of dread and impending doom. He's right. She knows he's right. There isn't definite proof, but the very tone of his voice and his serious posture tells her right then. He isn't lying. This is real. This is all real, no matter how much she may try to deny it.

Letting out a shaky sigh, she rubs her face with her hands and attempts to slow the rapid beating of her heart. One question floats to the top of all of her thoughts, and she picks it up and analyzes it for a few moments before speaking. "...Why me?" She sees him tilt his head to the side a bit, silently questioning her inquiry and asking for clarification. She happily delivers. "Why, out of seven billion people, does it want me?" She scrapes a hand through her hair in an effort to compose herself, her voice trembling. "What did I do to attract it? I'm just...I'm just a normal person. Why would it want me to do...whatever?"

He takes a few seconds to respond, stringing the words together in his head and coming up with the best possible answer. "I...I don't know." He shrugs lightly, craning his neck toward the couch beneath him. "You told me you had some family issues. He preys on the weak and vulnerable. If you've been going through stressful things, that's likely to be a big contributor to the reason he chose you."

"So you're telling me that I'm being hunted by a paranormal entity because I have garbage for parents?" She chokes down the bile threatening to rise in her throat. "How is that my fault?"

"It doesn't have to be," he simply says, shifting in his seat to better face her. "He's attracted to whoever is at a bad time in life and isn't handling it very well. If you've been stressed, he'll try to get you. It isn't always the victim's fault." Thoughts swarm her mind, though they zip by so quickly she barely has time to process each one before the next one takes its place. But one question manages to stand out above the rest, and she stares at the floor intently.

"But... but I've been going through stuff for years and I haven't had any problems like what's been happening recently until I got here." Her eyes shift up to his featureless, navy-blue mask curiously. "If it wanted me, why didn't it start before?"

"It's difficult to stalk someone and drive them insane when they're in the middle of a city," he says after a moment. "He probably knew about you before, at least to a point, but he couldn't really get to you until you were closer to where he resides." She gulps, eyes glistening with unfallen tears of dismay. "He wanted you more isolated. He can affect you easier that way."

"He's only after me, right?" Worry blooms in her chest and she leans forward absentmindedly. "My... my grandparents aren't a target, too? It's just me?"

"I doubt he'd have anything to do with two people like that, unless..." He pauses, and she presses her lips together in an anxious line.

"Unless?" Her voice holds a sense of distress. "Unless what?"

"Unless..." She can tell he's hesitant to finish his thought, though if it concerns the well-being of Nana and Pops, she won't stand for any unanswered questions. "...well, unless he wanted to use them. To manipulate you."

"How would he do that?" Now fully invested in the conversation, she tries to stabilize her breathing as she stares impatiently at Jack, desperate to get a response.

"He has different tactics. It'd be hard to say which one he'd use on you." Releasing a tremulous breath and trying to ease the nervous pit in her stomach, she clenches her fists.

"Would he hurt them?" For now, she's going to assume both of them are still alive and well, though utterly frantic over her sudden disappearance. Jack hasn't given any proof that he didn't harm them in any way, but she'd rather think about the possibility of life over the possibility of death.

"I don't know. He might."

"Well, then I have to get back to them!" She shoots up from her sitting position, causing a wave of dizziness to wash over her and nearly make her stumble to the floor, but she manages to keep her balance before that can happen. "So let me go."

"Y\n, being irrational isn't going to get you anywhere."

"I'm not being irrational!" She shoots a glare at where he still sits on the couch, starting to limp her way to the front door. "I'm being a good granddaughter. I'm not letting them get hurt." He sighs, a sound that's really beginning to get on her nerves, and slowly stands. She backs away warily in response.

"Your grandparents are fine. He likely won't even do anything that involves them because they're so far away from you now." Just how far away from them is she really?

"Where did you bring me then??"

"I can't tell you. Not yet." He eases closer to her, and she eyes the door. She isn't getting anywhere with her ankle being the way it is, and she knows it. But it's worth another try, right? She darts across the rest of the living room, but before she can even get close to grabbing the knob, a pair of strong arms wrap around her torso and pull her back. Despite her attempts at freedom, his hold doesn't even loosen.

"Let me go, Jack!"

"You already know that isn't going to happen." She lets out an exasperated groan, trying not to put pressure on her injury as she struggles fruitlessly against the tall male currently holding her back and succeeding, much to her displeasure. "You need to calm down."

"How am I supposed to 'calm down'? The only two people who actually give a crap about me are in danger!" She growls, attempting to kick him in the leg or elbow him in the gut, though he skillfully dodges each time and locks onto her tighter, remaining unphased by her actions.

"And you'll be putting them in even more danger if you go back. You heard what I said. Do you really want to hurt your own family?"

"Just shut up! I'd never do something like that. Not if my life depended on it."

"Well, it would. Y\n, you don't understand." He effortlessly spins her around to face him, her neck having to bend upward due to the large height difference between the two of them. She watches the tar-like substance as it leisurely drips from his empty sockets and down his mask before having to glance away. "Once you get to that point, he controls you. He owns you. He can make you do whatever he deems necessary to please him, and you can't stop it." She huffs, biting her bottom lip and holding back distressed tears. "Do you really want that to happen to you?"

She brings both her hands up and pushes harshly against his chest to create some kind of space between them before crossing her arms and sending him a glare, gathering the nerve to look directly into the vacant pits in his head. "I don't want any of this to happen to me," she mumbles, taking deep breaths just to stop herself from crying. "I just want to go home and be with people I love." The words leave her lips as a harsh whisper, voice cracking in the process.

"That can't happen." His tone changes from mildly irritated to sympathetic in an instant, and he takes a small step back in an effort to make her feel more comfortable. "I'm sorry."

She uses the back of her arm to wipe away a stray tear that had begun rolling down her cheek as her gaze lingers toward the hallway. She doesn't want to be anywhere near Jack, or anybody besides her grandparents. She wants out of this mess. At least she knows it isn't her fault, not completely anyway. Not that the thought soothes her very much, but it's something. "...Where's the bathroom?" It comes out as a half-hearted demand, and he answers immediately.

"First door to the right." She nods in silent gratitude and starts walking that way, ignoring the bit of pain that erupts through the bottom half of her leg as she does so. Once inside the desired room, she shuts the door behind her, flicks on the light, and tries to calm her fast, unsteady breathing and erratic heart rate. What is she supposed to do? Take Jack's word for it and stay here? Escape and try to find the way to a police station? Neither option sounds too appealing at the moment. She doesn't forget the words Jeff used before he ever so kindly walked her back to her kidnapper's house.

"Cops don't scare me. I've dealt with way, way worse than guns and tasers."

It sounded like a threat, and given the brief, though memorable, interaction with Jeff she had, it's very probable that's exactly what it was. A threat. Like he was telling her if she managed to break free and get the police involved, he'd hunt her down and wipe out everyone within his path. And it wouldn't bother him a bit. Of course it wouldn't, if he's crazy enough to supposedly carve a smile into his face, then he's crazy enough not to care in the least as he straight-up murders people.

How could somebody be so... twisted? Is it the doing of that thing, the one Jack informed her about? Or is it something totally different? Well, if she's going to be here a while, as she assumes she will be whether she likes it or not, then she'll be sure to gather as many details about the ones that live around here as she can. Maybe she can ask that girl that's supposed to be coming by with shoes, according to Jack. What's her name? Wendy? Whitney? Wanda?

No, dummy, it was a flower. She's named after a flower... Petunia? Lily? She shakes her head in disregard. That isn't even close. The bathroom is small, with a sink counter to her right, a toilet to the side of that, a tub to her left, and a slender cabinet ahead of her, right beside a window. The thought only crosses her mind briefly to use the window to escape; not only is it too high for her to properly reach without some kind of boost, but it's too small for her to even begin trying to squeeze through.

Nausea bubbles in her stomach as she thinks more and more about her hopeless situation. How does she handle this? Her whole existence just got flipped upside-down in the matter of a few hours. She doesn't know where she is, the people around her seem completely off their rocker, and her grandparents are at risk of being hurt, or possibly even killed by some other-worldly creature that she's seen a grand total of once, and that sighting was vague. What about that one time she saw that figure in the woods? The one with the white mask? Was that a hallucination, or was it real too?

She has no way of knowing for sure, and that thought alone makes her want to collapse and cry until she can't anymore about her misfortune. But she won't, not right now. Instead, she throws herself at the sink, desperate to rid herself of the foul taste filling her mouth and swallowing the vomit creeping up her throat. She turns on the faucet and welcomes the cool water that spills out, pressing her lips against it and gulping it down. She savors the pristine liquid as it slips down her throat, bringing an end to the dryness she felt in it prior and relieving her of the discomfort.

Letting out a strangled cough, she turns the faucet off and looks up, only now noticing the large piece of cloth—presumably an old sheet or blanket—covering the area where a mirror usually is placed. She lifts the corner of it up, only to find that there is, indeed, a mirror underneath, but finding herself a bit perplexed. Why would there be a sheet blocking the mirror? Did Jack do it? Does he not like to look at himself?

How would he see himself if he doesn't have eyes? She knits her eyebrows together, sniffling and licking some residual water away from her lips to stop it from dribbling down her chin. But he seems to move around just fine as if he can see where he's going. She's already established that he isn't normal, but just how not-normal is he? How does one see without eyes? Does he have some kind of sixth sense that allows him to somehow know his surroundings? If the whole 'no eyes' thing is only part of his mask, it's definitely fooled her. It looks so... so real. Just like every other aspect of him.

If he's like that, and Jeff is like that, then what do the other ones look like? She knows that there have to be others, Jack made that blatantly obvious by mentioning someone named Brian and the other named...Daisy? No, that's not it either. How much freakier is it going to get for her? Just how many more psychos has she yet to come across? She isn't too eager to find out. Jack's bad enough, and though he hasn't given her any more reason to hate him, the fact still stands that he took her from her house. Not only that, but he drugged her to do so, and before that, tricked her. Lied, right to her face, all to make her think he was trustworthy. Which he clearly is not.

She isn't sure whether to feel mad, betrayed, or a mixture of both. No, the two weren't friends, but they had talked for quite a while and she had told him things about herself that she certainly wouldn't tell some grey-skinned, eyeless thing. Is he even human? He doesn't look like one. She thought that there was a sort of bond that had sparked between the two of them during their encounter, though now she knows it was just a big, dirty trick.

She sighs through her nose, rubbing her eyes and leaning against the counter. Should she have just stayed home? Sure, she didn't really have a choice but to go to her grandparents' house while her mom and dad went wherever their work lead them, but she knows for a fact that her father in particular would have much preferred to keep her away from them. For some reason though, he had still hauled her off to a place she hasn't visited since she was eleven years old. It may have had something to do with Y\n refusing, under any circumstances, to stay at the penthouse with their absolute snob of a nanny, all alone, for God-knows how many weeks on end.

And seeing as how her mother's parents weren't an option, it was either her father's or summer camp. The last time she was at summer camp, she didn't have a very good experience, and pair that with all of the people in a hurry to make fun of her just because they're jealous of her parents' money, yeah, her grandparents were the better option by a long shot. But... if she would have just stayed home, would this have happened? Would Nana and Pops still be safe? Would she still be leading a generally boring, miserable life? Jack said himself that the creature chasing after her wouldn't be able to reach her in a populated area, like a city, and that's why he only now started attacking her. Because she was easy bait.

Is this actually her fault? Could she have avoided all of this had she just stopped being stubborn and stayed put in her home? What if Nana and Pops get killed if they aren't already? All because of her want to reach out to and see family that actually still care about her? Throwing around blame isn't going to help anything. Though that's what she tells herself, she can't help but think about it and feel guilty.

If I'm dreaming, now would be a good time to wake up. It all feels a bit too realistic to be a dream at this point, but she still clings to that little sliver of hope that this whole charade has been something her mind created while she's unconscious, and that soon she'll awake, perfectly healthy in her bed, with no giant noodle man to worry about, or crazy weirdos with masks, or strange dreams, unexplained dizzy spells and coughing fits. No whacky symbols. That would be incredible, even though she knows that really, she's never that lucky. It's all actually happening, and there's no way to escape it.

She doesn't even try to stop the tears that softly slip down her cheeks and make tiny little drip noises when they land in the porcelain bowl beneath her, only huffing in agitation and dipping her head to collect her bearings. And I thought I had a screwed-up life before...

After a few minutes, she's able to compose herself and gather enough courage to step back outside into the hallway, glancing toward the living room and catching sight of Jack on the couch, book in hand, and head craned down as if reading the words on the pages. Now how does that work? She steps forward, and at the sound of another presence nearing, he tilts his head up and meets her eyes with his soulless black pits.

She pauses under his gaze, nerves jumping with unease at his attention before she continues walking, stopping to idly lean against the wall farthest from him. "You okay?" His voice makes her flinch slightly, having not expected him to speak and break the tense silence that had built between them, though she's able to blow it off and act as if nothing happened.

"No," she says, tone harsh as she crosses her arms and drops her gaze down to the floor. "Why would I be 'okay'? This isn't exactly an everyday occurrence."

"I know, I know." He folds his book over and rests it in his lap, slanting forward slightly. "I'm not expecting you to be alright with this. Not for a while, at least." She narrows her eyes at him and presses her lips together. "I just need you to understand that this is your best option. It ensures both your safety and your family's safety."

"You just told me that my family could be used to manipulate me." Her tone is taut and her eyebrows furrow together, peering at him through resentful e\c orbs. "That doesn't sound very 'safe' to me."

"Yes, and then I said he probably won't feel the need to use them at all because you're so far away from where they live." He straightens his posture and tilts his head. "Trust me, going back would be more dangerous."

"And what if he does decide to 'use' them, huh? What then?" It takes a few infuriating moments for him to respond, and she shuffles around on her feet a bit to give him a well-aimed glare. He either doesn't notice or chooses to ignore it.

"We'll have to cross that bridge if we come to it." She opens her mouth to complain, to say something along the lines of, 'no freaking way am I standing aside and letting my grandparents become targets for some freak of nature,' but before she can there are three firm raps on the door, coming from the outside. It startles her, and she cautiously averts her gaze to the source of the sudden noise.

Jack moves the curtain to the side and glances out through the window placed directly behind the couch, seemingly checking for who could possibly be at the door. "Relax, it's alright." He stands to his feet and heads toward the wooden portal. She sends him a questioning look, and he motions outside. "Wisteria's here."

#creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #female reader #Y\n L\n #Eyeless Jack #Jack Nichols #Eyeless Jack x reader #creepypasta x female reader

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butterflies-dragons · 4 years

Note

Hello! I love your blog. Your meta about women in Jon’s life and Lyanna was so good. Antis always try to ignore the Sansa and Lyanna parallels which is absurd because her story is so similar with Sansa’s... I guess they want to ignore those because they don’t want Sansa to be destined with a Targaryen prince (aka jonsa 🤭). So thanks for pointing them out. Are you planning to write a meta just about Sansa and Lyanna? It would be a good guide for our jonsa arguments. Have a nice day.

Hello Anon,

Thanks for your words.

Antis and haters gonna oppose and hate. That’s their thing. They questioned and denied every parallel that Lyanna and Sansa actually share, and proceed to attack anyone who dare to say they share those parallels. What’s knew about that?

Lyanna and Arya parallels are textual evident, they are easily spotted but they could be easily questioned as well, especially because most of the statements about Lyanna came from Ned, and he is not only an unreliable narrator, but his memories of Lyanna are embellished by love and trauma. If you contrast what Ned said about Lyanna with other sources, not so biased, Ned’s statements about her don’t look so evident and solid anymore.

Anyway, do you want me to talk more about Lyanna and Sansa parallels? Here you go:

Summary

Original Outline

Beauty

The wolf-blood

She-Wolves of Winterfell

Inner Strength

Sword & Armor

Knights protect the innocent

Singers & Songs

The Rose of Winterfell

Blue Winter Roses

Knights & Queens of Love and Beauty

Failed betrothal to a Baratheon

Pleading Ned to protect part of themselves

Targaryen Imagery

Dead before their time

Ladies of Winterfell

Bonus

LYANNA & SANSA

Original Outline & ASOIAF:

Sansa in the Original Outline:

‘Original Outline Sansa’ was very similar to Lyanna Stark.

Each of the contending families will learn it has a member of dubious loyalty in its midst. Sansa Stark, wed to Joffrey Baratheon, will bear him a son, the heir to the throne, and when the crunch comes she will choose her husband and child over her parents and siblings, a choice she will later bitterly rue. (...) Jaime Lannister will follow Joffrey on the throne of the Seven Kingdoms, by the simple expedient of killing everyone ahead of him in the line of succession and blaming his brother Tyrion for the murders.

[Source]

As you can see, the ‘Original Outline Sansa’ shares parallels with Lyanna Stark and Elia Martel:

Romantically involved with the King/Heir of the Iron Throne

Mothers of their sons

Dead while protecting their children

Unwillingly caused the death of family members

Tagged as members of dubious loyalty to their paternal families

Regretted their doomed romances

But ¿How marrying the heir of the Iron Throne/King of the 7K is supposed to be an act of dubious loyalty? GRRM has stated that in high nobility there is no marriage without the Lord Father of the bride’s blessing. Furthermore, from the wedding the bride belongs to her husband’s house, that’s all the fuzz with the cloaking ceremony, going from the maiden’s cloak to your husband’s cloak. You left your paternal house to belong with your husbands house. Sansa’s loyalty was with her husband, and more important, Sansa’s love and loyalty was with her baby boy. So, how choosing his baby over her paternal house could be seem as an act of dubious loyalty then? And even if she wanted to come back to her paternal family, does she really get a chance without the risk of being captured, separated from her baby, accused of treason and executed, leaving her baby boy motherless?

But according to the Original Outline, there was an enmity between Starks and Lannisters. So, or Joffrey abducted Sansa, or Sansa eloped to marry Joffrey. How very Shakespearean! Romeo and Juliet all over again. Or even better, Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark all over again.

It is also implied by the fandom that this ‘Original Outline Sansa’ dies because the outline says that Jaime dethrones and kills Joffrey and “everyone ahead of him in the line of succession” (Sansa’s baby). Well, Sansa was not in the line of succession, but it’s probable that Jaime had to kill her to get to her baby boy, which reminds me of Elia Martell and her babies’ tragic deaths.

Sansa in Asoiaf:

Asoiaf Sansa never married Joffrey, never bore him a son, and she’s still alive. But she still shares a lot of similarities with her aunt Lyanna.

Both Lyanna and Sansa got infatuated by silver/golden princes, Rhaegar Targaryen and Joffrey Baratheon, and because of those romantic relationships, they unintentionally played a part in the deaths of their fathers and older brothers, Rickard and Brandon, and Ned and Robb. Later, both of them ended trapped in towers regretting their doomed romances.

According to GRRM, Asoiaf Sansa played a part in her father Ned Stark’s death. But I would say that Sansa’s fault lays more in trusting the wrong people than betraying Ned. The act of betrayal requires willful intent, and Sansa never wanted to betray her father. And we can say the same about Lyanna, she trusted Rhaegar over her family, ran away from her approved betrothal, lived a forbidden romance, and died after giving birth a son to her silver prince.

Sansa and Lyanna commit the same actions, but Lyanna gets more sympathy from the readers than Sansa, who is still considered a member of dubious loyalty or plainly a traitor to the Starks.

Also, as it was pointed out before, “Rickard Stark and Catelyn Stark both saw their firstborn sons murdered in front of them, while convinced that their daughters were far away being raped and abused by cruel princes, and then were brutally murdered themselves”.

Beauty:

Both Lyanna and Sansa are considered beautiful, but in different ways.

While Lyanna had a wild beauty:

“She [Lyanna] was,” Eddard Stark agreed, “beautiful, and willful, and dead before her time.” —AGOT - Arya II

Lyanna had only been sixteen, a child-woman of surpassing loveliness. Ned had loved her with all his heart. Robert had loved her even more. She was to have been his bride. —AGOT - Eddard I

"You never knew Lyanna as I did, Robert,” Ned told him. “You saw her beauty, but not the iron underneath”. —AGOT - Eddard VII

“The maid’s a fair one,” Osha said. —AGOT - Bran VII

The northern girl had a wild beauty, as he [Kevan] recalled. —ADWD - Epilogue

The crowning of the Stark girl, who was by all reports a wild and boyish young thing with none of the Princess Elia's delicate beauty, could only have been meant to win the allegiance of Winterfell to Prince Rhaegar's cause, Symond Staunton suggested to the king. —The World of Ice and Fire - The Fall of the Dragons: The Year of the False Spring

Sansa possesses a traditional beauty:

Sansa’s needlework was exquisite. Everyone said so. “Sansa’s work is as pretty as she is”, Septa Mordane told their lady mother once. —AGOT - Arya I

Sansa had the grace to blush. She blushed prettily. She did everything prettily. —AGOT - Arya I

Worse, she was beautiful. Sansa had gotten their mother’s fine high cheekbones and the thick auburn hair of the Tullys. —AGOT - Arya I

“I [Ser Cleos Frey] saw Sansa at the court, the day Tyrion told me his terms. She looked most beautiful, my lady. Perhaps a, a bit wan. Drawn, as it were.” —ACOK - Catelyn VI

Men would say she had my look, but she will grow into a woman far more beautiful than I ever was. —ACOK - Catelyn VII

“You are very beautiful, my lady,” the seamstress said when she was dressed. —ASOS - Sansa III

Ser Kevan told her she was beautiful, Jalabhar Xho said something she did not understand in the Summer Tongue, and Lord Redwyne wished her many fat children and long years of joy. —ASOS - Sansa III

“Ser Ossifer speaks truly, you are the most beautiful maid in all the Seven Kingdoms.” —TWOW - Alayne I

“Had we known such beauty awaited us at the Gates, we would have flown,” Ser Roland said. Though his words were addressed to Myranda Royce, he smiled at Alayne as he said them. —TWOW - Alayne I

The wolf-blood:

Lyanna:

"Ah, Arya. You have a wildness in you, child. 'The wolf blood,' my father used to call it. Lyanna had a touch of it, and my brother Brandon more than a touch. It brought them both to an early grave." Arya heard sadness in his voice; he did not often speak of his father, or of the brother and sister who had died before she was born. "Lyanna might have carried a sword, if my lord father had allowed it. You remind me of her sometimes. You even look like her."

"Lyanna was beautiful," Arya said, startled. Everybody said so. It was not a thing that was ever said of Arya.

“She was,” Eddard Stark agreed, “beautiful, and willful, and dead before her time.”

—AGOT - Arya II

Sansa:

“I’ve never seen an aurochs,” Sansa said, feeding a piece of bacon to Lady under the table. The direwolf took it from her hand, as delicate as a queen. Septa Mordane sniffed in disapproval. “A noble lady does not feed dogs at her table,” she said, breaking off another piece of comb and letting the honey drip down onto her bread. “She’s not a dog, she’s a direwolf,” Sansa pointed out as Lady licked her fingers with a rough tongue. “Anyway, Father said we could keep them with us if we want.” The septa was not appeased. “You’re a good girl, Sansa, but I do vow, when it comes to that creature you’re as willful as your sister Arya.” She scowled. “And where is Arya this morning?"

—AGOT - Sansa I

"It won’t be so bad, Sansa,” Arya said. “We’re going to sail on a galley. It will be an adventure, and then we’ll be with Bran and Robb again, and Old Nan and Hodor and the rest.” She touched her on the arm. “Hodor!” Sansa yelled. “You ought to marry Hodor, you’re just like him, stupid and hairy and ugly!” She wrenched away from her sister’s hand, stormed into her bedchamber, and barred the door behind her.

—AGOT - Sansa III

Jeyne yawned. “Are there any lemon cakes?” Sansa did not like being interrupted, but she had to admit, lemon cakes sounded more interesting than most of what had gone on in the throne room. “Let’s see,” she said. The kitchen yielded no lemon cakes, but they did find half of a cold strawberry pie, and that was almost as good. They ate it on the tower steps, giggling and gossiping and sharing secrets, and Sansa went to bed that night feeling almost as wicked as Arya.

—AGOT - Sansa III

After my name day feast, I’m going to raise a host and kill your brother myself. That’s what I’ll give you, Lady Sansa. Your brother’s head.“ A kind of madness took over her then, and she heard herself say, "Maybe my brother will give me your head.”

—AGOT - Sansa VI

She-Wolves of Winterfell:

Lyanna is literally the she-wolf in the tale of “The Knight of the Laughing Tree”:

But then they heard a roar. 'That's my father's man you're kicking,' howled the she-wolf."

"A wolf on four legs, or two?"

"Two," said Meera.

—ASOS - Bran II

Sansa went from a “wolf girl” to the she-wolf that killed a king:

He smiled at her. "Now, wolf girl, if you can put a name to me as well, then I must concede that you are truly our Hand’s daughter.”

—AGOT - Sansa I

“I forgot, you’ve been hiding under a rock. The northern girl. Winterfell’s daughter. We heard she killed the king with a spell, and afterward changed into a wolf with big leather wings like a bat, and flew out a tower window. But she left the dwarf behind and Cersei means to have his head.”

—ASOS - Arya XIII

“May the Father judge him justly,” murmured a septon. “The dwarf’s wife did the murder with him,” swore an archer in Lord Rowan’s livery. “Afterward, she vanished from the hall in a puff of brimstone, and a ghostly direwolf was seen prowling the Red Keep, blood dripping from his jaws.”

—ASOS - Jaime VII

“Your Grace has forgotten the Lady Sansa,” said Pycelle. The queen bristled. “I most certainly have not forgotten that little she-wolf.” She refused to say the girl’s name. “I ought to have shown her to the black cells as the daughter of a traitor, but instead I made her part of mine own household. She shared my hearth and hall, played with my own children. I fed her, dressed her, tried to make her a little less ignorant about the world, and how did she repay me for my kindness? She helped murder my son.

—AFFC - Cersei IV

What a kick-ass reputation: Sansa, the she-wolf that killed King Joffrey!

Inner Strength:

Lyanna:

"You never knew Lyanna as I did, Robert,” Ned told him. “You saw her beauty, but not the iron underneath”. —AGOT - Eddard VII

Sansa:

My skin has turned to porcelain, to ivory, to steel. —ASOS - Sansa V

Sansa lost her direwolf Lady, and with her, the possibility to develop her abilities as a warg. But GRRM has still made Sansa an skinchanger through poetry. Her skin has changed to porcelain, to ivory, to steel.

Sword & Armor

While Lyanna might have carried a sword, Sansa Stark is a lady armored in courtesy and she polishes her armor with her wits. As Tyrion Lannister said:

My mind is my weapon. My brother has his sword, King Robert has his warhammer, and I have my mind … and a mind needs books as a sword needs a whetstone, if it is to keep its edge." Tyrion tapped the leather cover of the book. "That's why I read so much, Jon Snow."

—AGOT - Tyrion II

Lyanna:

Lyanna might have carried a sword, if my lord father had allowed it. You remind me of her sometimes.

—AGOT - Arya II

Sansa:

Sansa felt that she ought to say something. What was it that Septa Mordane used to tell her? A lady’s armor is courtesy, that was it. She donned her armor and said, “I’m sorry my lady mother took you captive, my lord.”

—ACOK - Sansa I

Courtesy is a lady’s armor. You must not offend them, be careful what you say. “I do not know Ser Willas. I have never had the pleasure, my lady. Is he … is he as great a knight as his brothers?”

—ASOS - Sansa I

“Gods have mercy.” The dwarf took another swallow of wine. “Well, talk won’t make you older. Shall we get on with this, my lady? If it please you?” “It will please me to please my lord husband.” That seemed to anger him. “You hide behind courtesy as if it were a castle wall.” “Courtesy is a lady’s armor,” Sansa said. Her septa had always told her that. “I am your husband. You can take off your armor now.” “And my clothing?” “That too.” He waved his wine cup at her. “My lord father has commanded me to consummate this marriage.”

—ASOS - Sansa III

He wanted to reach her, to break through the armor of her courtesy. Was that what made him speak? Or just the need to distract himself from the fullness in his bladder?

[...]

Perhaps that would please Sansa. Gently, he spoke of Braavos, and met a wall of sullen courtesy as icy and unyielding as the Wall he had walked once in the north. It made him weary. Then and now.

—ASOS - Tyrion VIII

Ser Harrold looked down at her coldly. “Why should it please me to be escorted anywhere by Littlefinger’s bastard?”

[...]

A lady’s armor is her courtesy. Alayne could feel the blood rushing to her face. No tears, she prayed. Please, please, I must not cry. “As you wish, ser. And now if you will excuse me, Littlefinger’s bastard must find her lord father and let him know that you have come, so we can begin the tourney on the morrow.” And may your horse stumble, Harry the Heir, so you fall on your stupid head in your first tilt. She showed the Waynwoods a stone face as they blurted out awkward apologies for their companion. When they were done she turned and fled.

—TWOW - Alayne I

Knights protect the innocent:

Lyanna, as herself and as “The Knight of the Laughing Tree”, defended Howland Reed, a bannerman of House Stark:

“None offered a name, but he marked their faces well so he could revenge himself upon them later. They shoved him down every time he tried to rise, and kicked him when he curled up on the ground. But then they heard a roar. ‘That’s my father’s man you’re kicking,’ howled the she-wolf.” “A wolf on four legs, or two?” “Two,” said Meera. “The she-wolf laid into the squires with a tourney sword, scattering them all. The crannogman was bruised and bloodied, so she took him back to her lair to clean his cuts and bind them up with linen. There he met her pack brothers: the wild wolf who led them, the quiet wolf beside him, and the pup who was youngest of the four.

(…)

“Whoever he was, the old gods gave strength to his arm. The porcupine knight fell first, then the pitchfork knight, and lastly the knight of the two towers. None were well loved, so the common folk cheered lustily for the Knight of the Laughing Tree, as the new champion soon was called.”

—ASOS - Bran II

Sansa, as a lady armored with her courtesy and wits, defended and saved Dontos Hollard’s life, a defenestrated knight turned fool:

The king stood. “A cask from the cellars! I’ll see him drowned in it.” Sansa heard herself gasp. “No, you can’t.” Joffrey turned his head. “What did you say?” Sansa could not believe she had spoken. Was she mad? To tell him no in front of half the court? She hadn’t meant to say anything, only … Ser Dontos was drunk and silly and useless, but he meant no harm. “Did you say I can’t? Did you?” “Please,” Sansa said, “I only meant … it would be ill luck, Your Grace … to, to kill a man on your name day.” “You’re lying,” Joffrey said. “I ought to drown you with him, if you care for him so much.” “I don’t care for him, Your Grace.” The words tumbled out desperately. “Drown him or have his head off, only … kill him on the morrow, if you like, but please … not today, not on your name day. I couldn’t bear for you to have ill luck … terrible luck, even for kings, the singers all say so …” Joffrey scowled. He knew she was lying, she could see it. He would make her bleed for this. “The girl speaks truly,” the Hound rasped. “What a man sows on his name day, he reaps throughout the year.” His voice was flat, as if he did not care a whit whether the king believed him or no. Could it be true? Sansa had not known. It was just something she’d said, desperate to avoid punishment. Unhappy, Joffrey shifted in his seat and flicked his fingers at Ser Dontos. “Take him away. I’ll have him killed on the morrow, the fool.” “He is,” Sansa said. “A fool. You’re so clever, to see it. He’s better fitted to be a fool than a knight, isn’t he? You ought to dress him in motley and make him clown for you. He doesn’t deserve the mercy of a quick death.” The king studied her a moment. “Perhaps you’re not so stupid as Mother says.” He raised his voice. “Did you hear my lady, Dontos? From this day on, you’re my new fool. You can sleep with Moon Boy and dress in motley."

—ACOK - Sansa I

Singers & Songs:

Lyanna and Sansa are linked with singers and romantic songs.

Lyanna loved a singer and became a lady in a song, her own tragic romantic story:

The dragon prince sang a song so sad it made the wolf maid sniffle.

—ASOS - Bran II

The wolf maid was Lyanna Stark hearing her dragon prince Rhaegar Targaryen playing a sad song with the harp.

And curiously enough, a blue eyed redhead man called Jon also wept while hearing Rhaegar Targaryen playing a sad song with the harp:

At the welcoming feast, the prince had taken up his silver-stringed harp and played for them. A song of love and doom, Jon Connington recalled, and every woman in the hall was weeping when he put down the harp. Not the men, of course.

—A Dance with Dragons - The Griffin Reborn

Jon Connington was, of course, in love with Rhaegar Targaryen...

Sansa:

Once, when she was just a little girl, a wandering singer had stayed with them at Winterfell for half a year. An old man he was, with white hair and windburnt cheeks, but he sang of knights and quests and ladies fair, and Sansa had cried bitter tears when he left them, and begged her father not to let him go. “The man has played us every song he knows thrice over,” Lord Eddard told her gently. “I cannot keep him here against his will. You need not weep, though. I promise you, other singers will come.”

They hadn’t, though, not for a year or more. Sansa had prayed to the Seven in their sept and old gods of the heart tree, asking them to bring the old man back, or better still to send another singer, young and handsome. But the gods never answered, and the halls of Winterfell stayed silent.

But that was when she was a little girl, and foolish. She was a maiden now, three-and-ten and flowered. All her nights were full of song, and by day she prayed for silence.

—A Feast for Crows - Sansa I

Bran and his brothers and sisters sat with the king's children, Joffrey and Tommen and Princess Myrcella, who'd spent the whole meal gazing at Robb with adoring eyes. Arya made faces across the table when no one was looking; Sansa listened raptly while the king's high harper sang songs of chivalry, and Rickon kept asking why Jon wasn't with them. "Because he's a bastard," Bran finally had to whisper to him.

—ACOK - Bran III

Later, while Sansa was off listening to a troupe of singers perform the complex round of interwoven ballads called the “Dance of the Dragons,” [sung in High Valyrian] Ned inspected the bruise himself. “I hope Forel is not being too hard on you,” he said.

—AGOT - Eddard VII

She pulled a chair close to the hearth, took down one of her favorite books, and lost herself in the stories of Florian and Jonquil, of Lady Shella and the Rainbow Knight, of valiant Prince Aemon and his doomed love for his brother’s queen.

—AGOT - Sansa IV

After the meal had been cleared away, many of the guests asked leave to go to the sept. Cersei graciously granted their request. Lady Tanda and her daughters were among those who fled. For those who remained, a singer was brought forth to fill the hall with the sweet music of the high harp. He sang of Jonquil and Florian, of Prince Aemon the Dragonknight and his love for his brother’s queen, of Nymeria’s ten thousand ships. They were beautiful songs, but terribly sad. Several of the women began to weep, and Sansa felt her own eyes growing moist.

—ACOK - Sansa VI

So the singer played for her, so soft and sad that Arya only heard snatches of the words, though the tune was half-familiar. Sansa would know it, I bet. Her sister had known all the songs, and she could even play a little, and sing so sweetly. All I could ever do was shout the words.

—ASOS - Arya IV

Lady Ashara was my aunt. I never knew her, though. She threw herself into the sea from atop the Palestone Sword before I was born.” “Why would she do that?” said Arya, startled. (...) “Why did she jump in the sea, though?” "Her heart was broken." Sansa would have sighed and shed a tear for true love, but Arya just thought it was stupid.

—ASOS - Arya VIII

"Do you require guarding?” Marillion said lightly. “I am composing a new song, you should know. A song so sweet and sad it will melt even your frozen heart. 'The Roadside Rose,’ I mean to call it. About a baseborn girl so beautiful she bewitched every man who laid eyes upon her.”

—ASOS - Sansa VII

Lyanna and Sansa are also linked with the tale of Bael the Bard and the Rose of Winterfell.

The Rose of Winterfell:

This is the tale:

According to free folk legend, Lord Brandon Stark, the liege of the north, once called Bael a coward. To take revenge for this affront and prove his courage, Bael climbed the Wall, took the kingsroad, and entered Winterfell under the guise of a singer named Sygerrik of Skagos. (“Sygerrik” means “deceiver” in the Old Tongue.) There, he sang until midnight for the lord.

Impressed by his skills as a singer, Lord Stark asked Bael what he wanted as a reward, but he requested only the most beautiful flower blooming in Winterfell’s gardens. As the blue winter roses were just blooming, Brandon Stark presented him with one. The following morning, the maiden daughter of Lord Stark had disappeared, his only child, and in her bed was the blue winter rose.

Lord Brandon sent the members of the Night’s Watch looking for them beyond the Wall, but they never found Bael or the girl. The Stark line was on the verge of extinction, when one day the girl was back in her room, holding in her arms an infant: they had actually never left Winterfell, staying hidden in the crypts. Bael’s bastard with Brandon’s daughter became the new Lord Stark.

Thirty years later, Bael was King-Beyond-the-Wall and led the wildlings’ army south, and he had to fight his own son at the Frozen Ford. There, incapable of killing his own blood, he let himself be killed by Lord Stark. His son brought back Bael’s head to Winterfell, and his mother who had loved the bard, seeing the trophy, killed herself by leaping from the top of a tower. The son was eventually slain by the Boltons.

[Source]

Jon’s first and only lover, Ygritte, told him this story:

“You said you were the Bastard o’ Winterfell.” “I am.” “Who was your mother?” “Some woman. Most of them are.” Someone had said that to him once. He did not remember who. She smiled again, a flash of white teeth. “And she never sung you the song o’ the winter rose?” “I never knew my mother. Or any such song.” “Bael the Bard made it,” said Ygritte. “He was King-beyond-the-Wall a long time back. (...) “Well, long before he was king over the free folk, Bael was a great raider.” (...) “The Stark in Winterfell wanted Bael’s head, but never could take him, and the taste o’ failure galled him. One day in his bitterness he called Bael a craven who preyed only on the weak. When word o’ that got back, Bael vowed to teach the lord a lesson. So he scaled the Wall, skipped down the kingsroad, and walked into Winterfell one winter’s night with harp in hand, naming himself Sygerrik of Skagos. Sygerrik means ‘deceiver’ in the Old Tongue, that the First Men spoke, and the giants still speak.” “North or south, singers always find a ready welcome, so Bael ate at Lord Stark’s own table, and played for the lord in his high seat until half the night was gone. The old songs he played, and new ones he’d made himself, and he played and sang so well that when he was done, the lord offered to let him name his own reward. ‘All I ask is a flower,’ Bael answered, ‘the fairest flower that blooms in the gardens o’ Winterfell.’” “Now as it happened the winter roses had only then come into bloom, and no flower is so rare nor precious. So the Stark sent to his glass gardens and commanded that the most beautiful o’ the winter roses be plucked for the singer’s payment. And so it was done. But when morning come, the singer had vanished . . . and so had Lord Brandon’s maiden daughter. Her bed they found empty, but for the pale blue rose that Bael had left on the pillow where her head had lain.” Jon had never heard this tale before. (...) “Lord Brandon had no other children. At his behest, the black crows flew forth from their castles in the hundreds, but nowhere could they find any sign o’ Bael or this maid. For most a year they searched, till the lord lost heart and took to his bed, and it seemed as though the line o’ Starks was at its end. But one night as he lay waiting to die, Lord Brandon heard a child’s cry. He followed the sound and found his daughter back in her bedchamber, asleep with a babe at her breast.” “Bael had brought her back?” “No. They had been in Winterfell all the time, hiding with the dead beneath the castle. The maid loved Bael so dearly she bore him a son, the song says . . . though if truth be told, all the maids love Bael in them songs he wrote. Be that as it may, what’s certain is that Bael left the child in payment for the rose he’d plucked unasked, and that the boy grew to be the next Lord Stark. So there it is—you have Bael’s blood in you, same as me.”

—ACOK - Jon VI

This tale resembles Jon’s own story: Bael the Bard and Rhaegar Targaryen, both harp players, “abducted” a Stark maid, Brandon’s daughter and Lyanna, ‘the fairest flower that blooms in the gardens o’ Winterfell’. Rhaegar also crowned Lyanna as the Queen of Love and Beauty with blue winter roses, and they procreated a “bastard” son, Jon Snow. Lyanna died after giving birth to Jon, and the memories of that tragic even haunted Ned, who remembers the Lyanna bleeding and the blue winter roses:

"Promise me, Ned," Lyanna's statue whispered. She wore a garland of pale blue roses, and her eyes wept blood.

—AGOT - Eddard XIII

Promise me, Ned, his sister had whispered from her bed of blood. She had loved the scent of winter roses.

—AGOT - Eddard XV

Immediately after this chapter, comes ACOK - Sansa IV, where Sansa got her first period.

So after a chapter about ‘the fairest flower that blooms in the gardens o’ Winterfell’ it follows the chapter where Sansa Stark becomes a maid, Sansa literally flowered.

Next chapter is Jon again. There is a succession of Jon-Sansa-Jon chapters, that linked them thematically.

Also take note that Sansa was “abducted” by Petyr Baelish, a known deceiver, whose surname has a resemblance with the name Bael.

Blue Winter Roses:

Lyanna and Sansa are linked with flowers, but especially with roses:

Lyanna and the blue winter roses:

Ned could recall none of it. ”I bring her flowers when I can,“ he said. ”Lyanna was … fond of flowers.”

—A Game Of Thrones - Eddard I

"Promise me, Ned," Lyanna's statue whispered. She wore a garland of pale blue roses, and her eyes wept blood.

—AGOT - Eddard XIII

Promise me, Ned, his sister had whispered from her bed of blood. She had loved the scent of winter roses.

—AGOT - Eddard XV

Ned remembered the moment when all the smiles died, when Prince Rhaegar Targaryen urged his horse past his own wife, the Dornish princess Elia Martell, to lay the queen of beauty’s laurel in Lyanna’s lap. He could see it still: a crown of winter roses, blue as frost.

—AGOT - Eddard XV

Sansa Stark:

It was enough that she could walk in the yard, pick flowers in Myrcella’s garden, and visit the sept to pray for her father. Sometimes she prayed in the godswood as well, since the Starks kept the old gods.

—AGOT - Sansa V

Her eyes were only for Ser Loras. When the white horse stopped in front of her, she thought her heart would burst. To the other maidens he had given white roses, but the one he plucked for her was red. “Sweet lady,” he said, “no victory is half so beautiful as you.” Sansa took the flower timidly, struck dumb by his gallantry. His hair was a mass of lazy brown curls, his eyes like liquid gold. She inhaled the sweet fragrance of the rose and sat clutching it long after Ser Loras had ridden off.

—AGOT - Sansa II

—ASOS - Sansa VII

So we have Marillion, a singer, composing a song for Alayne Stone, Sansa Stark in disguise, that he meant to call “The Roadside Rose”

And Loras Tyrell, The Knight of Flowers, gave Sansa a single red rose. I will expand on this next, because Loras giving Sansa a red rose is an allegory in reverse of Rhaegar giving Lyanna the crown of blue winter roses.

Knights & Queens of Love and Beauty:

Lyanna was a Mystery Knight AND was crowned Queen of Love and Beauty at the Tourney at Harrenhal.

Lyanna as the Knight of the Laughing Tree

Lyanna, as herself and as a mystery knight, the Knight of the Laughing Tree, defended the crannogman, Howland Reed, a bannerman of House Stark:

But late on the afternoon of that second day, as the shadows grew long, a mystery knight appeared in the lists. Bran nodded sagely. […] “It was the little crannogman, I bet.” “No one knew,” said Meera, “but the mystery knight was short of stature, and clad in ill-fitting armor made up of bits and pieces. The device upon his shield was a heart tree of the old gods, a white weirwood with a laughing red face.” […] “Whoever he was, the old gods gave strength to his arm. The porcupine knight fell first, then the pitchfork knight, and lastly the knight of the two towers. None were well loved, so the common folk cheered lustily for the Knight of the Laughing Tree, as the new champion soon was called.” —ASOS - Bran II

Lyanna as the Queen of Love and Beauty

Rhaegar Targaryen wearing an armor adorned with rubies (red) gave Lyanna a crown of winter roses (blue):

The Targaryen prince armored all in black. On his breastplate was the three-headed dragon of his House, wrought all in rubies that flashed like fire in the sunlight.

—AGOT - Eddard I

—AGOT - Eddard XV

Sansa as a “Knight”

During the Tourney in honor of King Joffrey’s Name Day, Sansa, as a lady armored with her courtesy and wits, defended and saved the life of Ser Dontos Hollard, a defenestrated knight turned fool, as I explained above.

Sansa as the Queen of Love and Beauty

Art credit: Loras Tyrell Gives Sansa Stark a Rose and the Hand’s Tournament by Jonathan Burton.

Sansa was the unofficial Queen of Love and Beauty at the Tourney of the Hand. GRRM wrote this passage as a resemble of the Tourney at Harrenhal, hiding hints and reversing colors.

Sansa attended the Tourney of the Hand at Kings Landing and met Petyr Baelish who told her that her mother, Catelyn Tully, was his Queen of Love and Beauty:

"Your mother was my queen of beauty once,” the man said quietly. His breath smelled of mint. “You have her hair.” His fingers brushed against her cheek as he stroked one auburn lock. Quite abruptly he turned and walked away. —AGOT - Sansa II

Loras Tyrell, the Knight of Flowers, wearing an armor adorned with sapphires (blue) gave Sansa a (red) rose:

When the Knight of Flowers made his entrance, a murmur ran through the crowd, and he heard Sansa’s fervent whisper, “Oh, he’s so beautiful.” Ser Loras Tyrell was slender as a reed, dressed in a suit of fabulous silver armor polished to a blinding sheen and filigreed with twining black vines and tiny blue forget-me-nots. The commons realized in the same instant as Ned that the blue of the flowers came from sapphires; a gasp went up from a thousand throats. Across the boy’s shoulders his cloak hung heavy. It was woven of forget-me-nots, real ones, hundreds of fresh blooms sewn to a heavy woolen cape. —AGOT - Eddard VII

During the second day of the tourney, Sansa wore the red rose in her hair:

The boy from Highgarden did something with his legs, and his horse pranced sideways, nimble as a dancer. Sansa clutched at his arm. “Father, don’t let Ser Gregor hurt him,” she said. Ned saw she was wearing the rose that Ser Loras had given her yesterday. Jory had told him about that as well. —AGOT - Eddard VII

The Tourney at the Gates of the Moon

And at this point in the Books, Sansa, as Alayne Stone, is organizing a tourney to elect the members of Robert Arryn’s personal guard, named the Brotherhood of the Winged Knights.

Alayne Stone’s betrothed, Harrold Hardyng, known as Harry the Heir, is competing in the tourney.

Since her betrothed is competing in the jousting and since she is daughter of Petyr Baelish, Lord Protector of the Vale, Alayne Stone has great chances to be crowned the Queen of Love and Beauty of the tourney.

The Tourney at Ashford Meadows

Sansa has also strong links with the Tourney at Ashford Meadows, but this is a matter for another time.

Failed betrothal to a Baratheon:

Both Lyanna and Sansa were betrothed with a Baratheon, Lyanna with Robert and Sansa with Joffrey:

If Lyanna had lived, we should have been brothers, bound by blood as well as affection. Well, it is not too late. I have a son. You have a daughter. My Joff and your Sansa shall join our houses, as Lyanna and I might once have done. —AGOT - Eddard I

There is also this parallel between Jenny of Oldstones, Lyanna & Sansa [I wrote about it here]:

Note the parallels between Duncan Targaryen, his betrothed Baratheon and Jenny of Oldstones & Rhaegar Targaryen, Lyanna Stark and her betrothed Robert Baratheon: A Targaryen prince breaking an engagement with a member of House Baratheon that then originates a rebellion.

And this: Sansa was betrothed with Joffrey “Baratheon” and the engagement was broken in the middle of a war with Robb Stark leading an army against King Joffrey, and Jon almost breaking his vows to join Robb’s army to avenge Ned’s death and rescue their sisters. All of which makes me think about these parallels: Sansa being a hostage in King’s Landing & Lyanna’s “abduction”, Ned’s death & Rickard’s death, Robb’s death & Brandon’s death. And that leaves Jon to possibly play the role of Ned Stark in the future.

Basically if Jon and Sansa happens, they will parallel two stories: Rhaegar and Lyanna, a Targaryen/Stark couple; and Ned and Cat, a Stark/Tully couple.

And right now in the Books, Sansa Stark, under the disguise of Alayne Stone, is betrothed with a Robert-like young man: Harrold Hardyng, also known as Harry the Heir:

Both orphaned boys

Both wards at the Vale

Both handsome and physically strong

Both linked to Jon Arryn and the Vale

Both fathered bastards in the Vale: Mya Stone // Alys Stone

Both involved in a conflict with a cousin: Robert killed his cousin Rhaegar and became King // If Robert Arryn dies, his cousin Harry will be new Lord Arryn.

Both betrothed to a Stark girl: Lyanna Stark // (Alayne Stone) Sansa Stark

Pleading Ned to protect part of themselves:

"Stop them," Sansa pleaded, "don't let them do it, please, please, it wasn't Lady, it was Nymeria, Arya did it, you can't, it wasn't Lady, don't let them hurt Lady, I'll make her be good, I promise, I promise …" She started to cry.

—AGOT - Eddard III

He could still hear Sansa pleading, as Lyanna had pleaded once.

—AGOT - Eddard IV

"Promise me, Ned," Lyanna's statue whispered. She wore a garland of pale blue roses, and her eyes wept blood.

—AGOT - Eddard XIII

Promise me, Ned, his sister had whispered from her bed of blood. She had loved the scent of winter roses.

—AGOT - Eddard XV

Lyanna was pleading to her brother Ned to protect her son, while Sansa was pleading to her father Ned to protect her direwolf, Lady, part of Sansa’s soul. Later, Ned regretted failing Sansa…

Sansa’s pleading and repeating the word “promise”, triggered Ned’s trauma over Lyanna’s death. That also happened when Robert asked Ned to protect his children.

Targaryen Imagery:

Sansa’s chapters hide hints about Lyanna’s son, Jon Snow, true parentage.

Indeed, Sansa Stark has a very interesting imagery of white/off-white fabrics stained with blood and fire. I wrote more about it here.

Sansa’s Ivory silk dress stained with blood orange juice and ashes

“Liar,” Arya said. Her hand clenched the blood orange so hard that red juice oozed between her fingers.

“Go ahead, call me all the names you want,” Sansa said airily. “You won’t dare when I’m married to Joffrey. You’ll have to bow to me and call me Your Grace.” She shrieked as Arya flung the orange across the table. It caught her in the middle of the forehead with a wet squish and plopped down into her lap.

“You have juice on your face, Your Grace,” Arya said.

It was running down her nose and stinging her eyes. Sansa wiped it away with a napkin. When she saw what the fruit in her lap had done to her beautiful ivory silk dress, she shrieked again. “You’re horrible,” she screamed at her sister. “They should have killed you instead of Lady!”

(…)

“Arya started it,” Sansa said quickly, anxious to have the first word. “She called me a liar and threw an orange at me and spoiled my dress, the ivory silk, the one Queen Cersei gave me when I was betrothed to Prince Joffrey. She hates that I’m going to marry the prince. She tries to spoil everything, Father, she can’t stand for anything to be beautiful or nice or splendid.”

(…)

“Sansa stalked away with her head up. She was to be a queen, and queens did not cry. At least not where people could see. When she reached her bedchamber, she barred the door and took off her dress. The blood orange had left a blotchy red stain on the silk. “I hate her!” she screamed. She balled up the dress and flung it into the cold hearth, on top of the ashes of last night’s fire. When she saw that the stain had bled through onto her underskirt, she began to sob despite herself. She ripped off the rest of her clothes wildly, threw herself into bed, and cried herself back to sleep.”

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa III

When the king’s herald moved forward, Sansa realized the moment was almost at hand. She smoothed down the cloth of her skirt nervously. She was dressed in mourning, as a sign of respect for the dead king, but she had taken special care to make herself beautiful. Her gown was the ivory silk that the queen had given her, the one Arya had ruined, but she’d had them dye it black and you couldn’t see the stain at all. She had fretted over her jewelry for hours and finally decided upon the elegant simplicity of a plain silver chain.

—A Game of Thrones - Sansa V

Take note that the ivory silk dress was a “betrothal gift” from Cersei, that Sansa later had to “dye it black” so the “blood and fire stain” couldn’t be seen at all.

Oh George! Your wording here is just genius!

Sansa’s bedclothes stained with her moonblood and fire

When she woke, the pale light of morning was slanting through her window, yet she felt as sick and achy as if she had not slept at all. There was something sticky on her thighs. When she threw back the blanket and saw the blood, all she could think was that her dream had somehow come true. She remembered the knives inside her, twisting and ripping. She squirmed away in horror, kicking at the sheets and falling to the floor, breathing raggedly, naked, bloodied, and afraid.

But as she crouched there, on her hands and knees, understanding came. “No, please,” Sansa whimpered, “please, no.” She didn’t want this happening to her, not now, not here, not now, not now, not now, not now.

Madness took hold of her. Pulling herself up by the bedpost, she went to the basin and washed between her legs, scrubbing away all the stickiness. By the time she was done, the water was pink with blood. When her maidservants saw it they would know. Then she remembered the bedclothes. She rushed back to the bed and stared in horror at the dark red stain and the tale it told. All she could think was that she had to get rid of it, or else they’d see. She couldn’t let them see, or they’d marry her to Joffrey and make her lay with him.

Snatching up her knife, Sansa hacked at the sheet, cutting out the stain. If they ask me about the hole, what will I say? Tears ran down her face. She pulled the torn sheet from the bed, and the stained blanket as well. I’ll have to burn them. She balled up the evidence, stuffed it in the fireplace, drenched it in oil from her bedside lamp, and lit it afire. Then she realized that the blood had soaked through the sheet into the featherbed, so she bundled that up as well, but it was big and cumbersome, hard to move. Sansa could get only half of it into the fire. She was on her knees, struggling to shove the mattress into the flames as thick grey smoke eddied around her and filled the room, when the door burst open and she heard her maid gasp.

In the end it took three of them to pull her away. And it was all for nothing. The bedclothes were burnt, but by the time they carried her off her thighs were bloody again. It was as if her own body had betrayed her to Joffrey, unfurling a banner of Lannister crimson for all the world to see.

—A Clash of Kings - Sansa IV

Even if the color of the bedclothes was not stated as white/off-white, it’s very probable that they were of white or an off-white color, like ivory. So, again, we find this very interesting imagery in Sansa’s chapters: white/off-white fabrics stained with blood and fire.

And this passage of a bed stained with blood that must be hidden makes me think about Ned’s dream of Lyanna’s death:

He dreamt an old dream, of three knights in white cloaks, and a tower long fallen, and Lyanna in her bed of blood.

—A Game of Thrones - Eddard X

So I think there is another pattern here: betrothal, marriage and giving birth.

As I said before, the ivory silk dress was a “betrothal gift” from Cersei; and, as Sansa stated, the bedclothes stained with her moonblood was a proof of her having reached her womanhood and thus able to do her duty and marry Joffrey and bear his children.

Moreover, after Sansa’s first moonblood, she had this conversation with Cersei:

“I don’t blame you. Between Tyrion and Lord Stannis, everything I eat tastes of ash. And now you’re setting fires as well. What did you hope to accomplish?”

Sansa lowered her head. “The blood frightened me.”

“The blood is the seal of your womanhood. Lady Catelyn might have prepared you. You’ve had your first flowering, no more.”

Sansa had never felt less flowery. “My lady mother told me, but I … I thought it would be different.”

“Different how?”

“I don’t know. Less … less messy, and more magical.”

Queen Cersei laughed. “Wait until you birth a child, Sansa. A woman’s life is nine parts mess to one part magic, you’ll learn that soon enough … and the parts that look like magic often turn out to be messiest of all.” She took a sip of milk. “So now you are a woman. Do you have the least idea of what that means?”

“It means that I am now fit to be wedded and bedded,” said Sansa, “and to bear children for the king.”

—A Clash of Kings - Sansa IV

An ivory silk dress, a “betrothal gift” from Cersei, that Sansa later had to “dye it black”, so the “blood and fire stain” couldn’t be seen at all, sounds pretty much like Lyanna Stark’s betrothal to Robert Baratheon being “stained” by Rhaegar Targaryen. And then, of course, of Jon Snow hidden in the Wall as a Black Brother/Black Knight of the Night’s Watch.

Again, Sansa’s bedclothes stained with her flowering blood and then with fire to hide the stain, sounds pretty much like Lyanna Stark’s bed of blood after she gave birth Jon Snow, the baby that had to be hidden so his Targaryen identity couldn’t be seem at all.

A white wool cloak stained by blood and fire

When she crawled out of bed, long moments later, she was alone. She found his cloak on the floor, twisted up tight, the white wool stained by blood and fire. The sky outside was darker by then, with only a few pale green ghosts dancing against the stars. A chill wind was blowing, banging the shutters. Sansa was cold. She shook out the torn cloak and huddled beneath it on the floor, shivering.

—A Clash of Kings - Sansa VII

Out of the three passages with this imagery of white/off-white fabrics stained with blood and fire, this one, the one you asked for, has the more evident references of Jon Snow’s true parentage as the son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark.

Here we have Sansa huddled beneath a white kingsguard cloak stained by blood of the death during the Battle of the Blackwater and wildfire.

I think most of the readers get distracted from the Jon Snow’s true parentage hints here, because they romanticize this scene and believe it foreshadows some romantic future events for her involving the Hound, based in the fact that Sansa had covered herself with “the Hounds cloak” twice. But the relationship between Sansa and the white cloaks is -by far- larger than that; it has more to do with the ideals of knighthood and chivalry, than with the men wearing them.

As you can see, GRRM has plagued Sansa’s chapters with hints of Lyanna’s son, Jon Snow, true parentage.

Dead before their time:

Lyanna:

“She [Lyanna] was,” Eddard Stark agreed, “beautiful, and willful, and dead before her time.”

—AGOT - Arya II

Sansa:

And so many others were missing. Where had the rest of them gone? Sansa wondered. Vainly, she searched for friendly faces. Not one of them would meet her eyes. It was as if she had become a ghost, dead before her time.

—AGOT - Sansa V

Lyanna and Lady (part of Sansa’s soul) both died in the south, before their time.

Lyanna’s ghost has haunted Cersei over the years, Cersei wanted to marry Rhaegar but ended married with Robert. Both Rhaegar and Robert loved Lyanna.

Lady is mentioned in the Books as a “shade”, a synonym for ghost. And after Ned’s death, Sansa became a ghost at the Red Keep’s court.

Sansa and Lady also haunt Cersei, as she remembered them both during her walk of atonement:

The queen began to see familiar faces. (...) She saw Ned Stark, and beside him little Sansa with her auburn hair and a shaggy grey dog that might have been her wolf.

—ADWD - Cersei II

At the end, only the remains of Lyanna and Lady returned home, to the North, to Winterfell.

Ladies of Winterfell:

Lyanna’s and Lady’s bones are buried at Winterfell, what makes them literally Ladies of Winterfell:

“She was more beautiful than that,” the king said after a silence. His eyes lingered on Lyanna’s face, as if he could will her back to life. Finally he rose, made awkward by his weight. “Ah, damn it, Ned, did you have to bury her in a place like this?” His voice was hoarse with remembered grief. “She deserved more than darkness …” “She was a Stark of Winterfell,” Ned said quietly. “This is her place.”

—AGOT - Eddard I

Shortly, Jory brought him Ice. When it was over, he said, “Choose four men and have them take the body north. Bury her at Winterfell.” “All that way?” Jory said, astonished. “All that way,” Ned affirmed. “The Lannister woman shall never have this skin.”

—AGOT - Eddard III

Bran felt all cold inside. “She lost her wolf,” he said, weakly, remembering the day when four of his father’s guardsmen had returned from the south with Lady’s bones. Summer and Grey Wind and Shaggydog had begun to howl before they crossed the drawbridge, in voices drawn and desolate. Beneath the shadow of the First Keep was an ancient lichyard, its headstones spotted with pale lichen, where the old Kings of Winter had laid their faithful servants. It was there they buried Lady, while her brothers stalked between the graves like restless shadows. She had gone south, and only her bones had returned.

—AGOT - Bran VI

Lady’s death and his return to the North to rest in Winterfell is linked with Lyanna’s death and her own path back home. I wrote about this before:

Now, back to Lady’s death. We know that this event is a turning point in Sansa’s arc, but other than that, the paragraphs leading to the direwolf’s execution are laden with symbolism and foreshadowing, not only for Sansa, but for Ned as well.

During the “trial”, Ned decides that he will take Lady’s life himself, in order to avoid having a butcher like Ilyn Payne do the execution. Then, before he struck, he pronounced her name in the same fashion Robb and Jon called the name of their direwolves before they both died. This for me foreshadows Ned’s own death. Also, before Lady’s death, Ned pleads King Robert to change his decision on putting down the direwolf, appealing to the memory of Lyanna, the woman Robert loved. Similarly, before Ned’s execution at the steps of the Sept of Baelor, Sansa pleads King Joffrey to spare her father’s life, appealing to the love he has for her. As we know, both pleas fell on deaf ears and both Lady and Ned lost their lives; bringing the story full circle, as Ilyn Payne himself cut off Ned’s head.

Another interesting thing is that before Lady’s death we have direct and indirect references to Lyanna Stark. We have the direct reference when Ned appealed to the love Robert Baratheon bore Lyanna, in order to save Lady’s life, and the indirect one when he ordered Jory to choose four men to return Lady’s body to the north, to bury her in Winterfell. This order Ned gave to his men alludes to his own decision to take Lyanna’s body to Winterfell to be buried in the crypts, after her demise, brought on by her doomed love affair with Rhaegar Targaryen.

And to finish this post, here some gifsets that illustrate some of the discussed parallels:

Sansa Stark and Lyanna Stark + parallels

Pleading

She-wolves of Winterfell

Beautiful, Captivating Child-Women

Hidden Metal ft. hair parallels

Broken ‘Baratheon’ Engagements ft. more hair parallels

Fair Maidens

BONUS

Lyanna and Sansa in the first Show pilot:

In The Original, Terrible ‘Game Of Thrones’ Pilot That Never Aired, there was a scene where Cersei burned the feather that Robert left at Lyanna’s statue in the Winterfell Crypts:

The Cersei scene that might ruffle some feathers

Let’s begin with a defining scene between King Robert Baratheon and Ned Stark in the Winterfell crypts.

The scene that aired on HBO is slightly different from the scene in the Cushing script, but the gist is the same. Robert asks Ned to be his new Hand of the King, a position left open after Jon Arryn’s death. That’s when Robert places something small but highly symbolic on a statue of his onetime betrothed, Lyanna Stark: a feather.

And that pretty much sums up the sequence you saw in Season 1

But in the script found in the Cushing library, Queen Cersei plays a pivotal role in this exchange’s aftermath ― so much so that her involvement would have changed a Season 5 episode, the recent Season 8 teaser and possibly more.

The following scene is written into the pilot script found at Cushing and involves Cersei visiting the crypts right before the feast at Winterfell:

Cersei exits the crypts, crosses the courtyard and walks into the antechamber between the kitchen and the Winterfell great hall. The celebration for the king’s arrival is underway, and servants are rushing past her with food. The queen’s handmaidens make adjustments to her outfit and remove her heavy fur.

Then Cersei reveals something she has inside her sleeve:

“A word with the Stark girl”. I have no doubt this meant Sansa.

We didn’t get to watch this scene, Cersei never came down to the Winterfell Crypts, and she never took the feather Robert left there for Lyanna. But a few seasons later, we got to watch a scene of Sansa at the Winterfell Crypts, next to her aunt Lyanna’s statue, where she found the same feather that King Robert left there years ago...

...And Petyr Baelish told her the story of Lyanna and Rhaegar at the Tourney of Harrenhal.... I wrote more about it here.

I hope this is enough.

Thanks for your message and good night.

#Sansa Stark #Lyanna Stark #parallels #anon ask #Sansa & Lyanna parallels #Lyanna & Sansa parallels

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justfangstvdto · 4 years

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Open Coffin 2 | Chapter 04 “Word travels fast among the Damned”

Disclaimer: This is a sequel! Find Part 1 here. For some context, I´d advise you to watch The Originals to understand some occurrences.

Chapter warnings: typical TO violence and fighting, a dash of ptsd, glimpse into messed up childhood, oh and some new spells and practices, also this took so extremely long so please feel free to wait until more chapter are here

Word count: 6664

Tags & Author Note at the bottom. Feedback is my lifeblood and keeps the writing coming (eventually...lol)

Your name: submit What is this?

At certain times in life, there is this premonition, a sense of knowing that something is coming. It is felt in the air in every passing breeze, and there is nothing one can do to stop it. It blows from the environment to throw its opponent off balance. Could be a monster with sharp claws, a bullet, a virus or bacteria. Or, in your case, a wooden and deadly staff handled with ancient vampire strength.

The attack came from the left side, poignant and with precision. The wood colliding with the carved stick in your hands send vibrations through your arms, that travelled to your shoulders. Strike blocked. Another attack came swiftly, this time from below in an upwards angle calculated just right to throw you off balance. Blocked again. You could see it in Mikael´s face; he was growing frustrated by every passing round of attack. He threw his weight behind his next attack, that edged closer to your face. Pain erupted from the point of impact as it sliced through the skin just above your cheekbone. Mikael doubled up again and brought the staff to your knees, swiftly knocking you off balance. You fell backwards like a sack of wood but caught yourself midair before landing on your stomach.

He's good.

He forced you down with the edge of the staff, burying your face in the dirt. He could kill you with a push of his weight, but he relented. You heard his feet cracking the ground beneath him as he turned his back and walked away as the champion.

Or so he thought.

You pushed yourself up with your dirt-covered hands, using your vampire speed and the element of surprise to your advantage. Holding the staff in a horizontal line, you went after him. He let out a huffed gurgle when you pulled back on the wood you pressured against his neck, pulling him against your torso. Mikael reacted swiftly and brought his weight forward to overthrow your chokehold like a bull trying to buckle of its rider. You let yourself fall over his back with your hand around the staff, nearing the ground with your backside, only to switch to your front as you easily grasped the staff out if his hands. Swiftly and without hesitation you plunged the staff into his face before you brought it down to his feet to trip him over. He landed into the dirt as you did before, face red with anger.

“I told Klaus already," You said, pointing the end towards his heart, while the Mikaelson family runic crest buried itself into the flesh of your hands "never turn your back on a Salvatore. Especially not me. ”

He was hurt in his pride, that much was evident, but there was a glimmer of surprise in his eyes that made you proud. You've beaten the vampire that hunts vampires. Granted, he had lost his touch over the years on the other side, but he still had centuries on you. It was a cause for celebration, or at least it was something to hold over him if you needed to.

Mikael scrambled to his feet, dusting off his dirt-covered clothes tainting the afternoon sun with dust particles "You fight well.“

"That's what happens when you grow up with two brothers that constantly had to one-up each other. You learn to fight if you're the one in the middle.” You said, sparing a thought to how you´d find Stefan and Damon in front of your house, fighting each other with their bare hands or loose wood from the barn a few ways down from the front door. You would always see them through the smudged window in the housekeeping room where your mother used to teach you what a girl should learn to become a proper woman. But you never cared for it. Instead, you would run outside your dress dragging in the dirt as you pushed your brothers apart even onto the dirt if you had to.

You pushed that memory aside, and you bend over to grab the staff on the floor, your fingers gliding over the ornate wood once more “The crest.” You continued “What does it mean?”

Mikael seemed surprised by your interest, even if it was covered with a loud sigh of contentment. Yet, he complied and drew the crest in the dirt beneath him “Long ago this was the Norse alphabet rune “Gebu”. It´s meaning varied from spear to gift but has been used to refer to Odin's spear Gungnir. It was believed that it had been given to Odin by Loki and is known for always hitting its mark, no matter the obstacle.”

“Always hitting bullseye no matter what? Yeah, that describes your family pretty well.” You shared a quick look with him before you turned away, heading for the cabin. You always wondered if Mikael missed his northern home - his true north so to speak- or if rage consumed him entirely without leaving a trace of the Wikingr he once was. And if the same thing will happen to you if the seething anger you developed over the last 3 years, triumphs over your sanity. Only time and its unrelenting grasp knew.

Glancing into the window beside the door you stopped to check your phone that was still outside since last night. You turned it over and unlocked it with a click, groaning when you saw the notification. Twenty-eight missed calls. Most of them were Klaus, a few from Marcel and then…

No way.

Stefan's name glared at you through the screen and with it a little icon next to him. He left a voicemail. What gravely thing had to occur for him to call you after years of silence? Did Mystic Fall finally burn down to ashes? Perhaps someone scarier than Klaus rolled into town and he just needed help? Whatever it was, the feeling of impending doom lingered in the air when you locked your phone and left it on the table outside. There was no time to linger in what-if scenarios.

No unnecessary attachments. No distractions - That's how you get things done.

Opening the cabin door a swift of charcoaled sage penetrated your senses, pungent with every step you took. Kaleb stood near a table, an unbuttoned shirt hugging his frame as if he was about to embark on a tropical cruise. He had the table decked out in front of him with elongated squares of stone which looked like they were engraved with runic symbols.

You closed the door behind you, the remnant of your late-night drinking session from the night before, collided together with the door´s vibration against the brittle wood. Last night you sparsely told Kaleb why you brought Mikael back, but your conversation quickly dissolved to more than just small talk. The alcohol loosened your tongue to a comfortable degree. It was strange to be unburdened by the fear of judgment. There wasn't any lasting damage that you had to fear, nothing you had to be ashamed of when looking him in the eyes and nothing you had to live with forever. Maybe the prospect of dying and not be burdened by anything that lasted had its advantages after all. It was easier at least.

When you stepped further into the room, Kaleb looked up from the bowl he had in his hand. Passing him, you discarded the sheer jacket that was stained with the particles of your meeting with the dirt floor outside. You flipped open the cooler filled with the blood bags, taking inventory of how many remained. Two. Great. Hunger was plaguing you more than it ever had. The cooler was full yesterday.

You jumped when Kaleb’s fingers gently wrapped when he turned your shoulder towards him to inspect the damage that had already healed, the only reminder of it a sheer layer of red. You pushed his hand away, regretting your action within a second after witnessing the guilty look on his face.

He shuffled back to where he was standing previously and cleared his throat before he spoke: “I don't think sparring with him is a good idea.”

“What, do you think he'd kill me? I´m a dead vamp walking no matter what, so who cares?”

“Don't you mean an undead dead vampire?” He joked before his face contorted into a questioning gaze “Wait…” He laughed. When you returned his laughter with a chuckle, he seemed proud, face beaming with a sense of accomplishment.

So he likes to make people laugh. Noted.

Kalebs gaze lingered for another moment, then he glanced out of the window to watch Mikael train with nothing but the wind as his opponent." You´ve told me how you brought him back, but not why." He continued, a worried tone now coating his voice "I assume it is more than just as a sparring partner?"

You shook your head “You should know as little as possible. They will come after you if they find out you know something. ”

“You're still not the trusting sort.” He noted, “And I thought we've bonded.”

The truth was you had bonded to a certain degree, and you were wary of the developing attachment.

“Well, do you trust me?” You questioned.

“Are you slicked? Those sad eyes might fool some people, but not me. I know what you're after.” Stoic and calculated he stared you down before his mouth contorted into a lighthearted smile “You've got a lecherous heart, Y/N! I won't be used, not for my body, nor my magic!”

You turned your head to hide a smile, but he caught on and lid up with pride. "Speaking of magic.” You nodded towards the table next to him “How's all this supposed to work anyway?"

“This-” He stepped closer, pointing with his fingers to the runes surrounded by a salt and ash circle “Is an ancient runic foretelling. Like a, uh, prophecy.”

“So like a fancy version of tarot cards?” You said bluntly, “How is that gonna help?”

“Depending on what runes appear, we will have a vague indication of what's causing the bleeding; Spell, curse, your vampire body rejecting magic… whatever it may be. If we know what it is, we can reverse it. “

You looked at him and wondered how someone like him came across a spell this old and what atrocities he had to commit to get a hold of it. Magic like this was not given out to anybody without affiliating to one of the more eclectic covens. You should know, that's what you´ve been doing for the past years.

You were about to litter him with questions, but the opening of the screeching cabin door made you pause, and all questions washed away.

“What have we here?" Mikael said from the doorway before stepping closer to examine Kaleb’s spell. " I have not seen this kind of magic in centuries.“ He looked at him with questioning eyes, observing his reaction as an indication as to end him or not. “How did you come to this knowledge?”

“Well, I've read a lot. You pick up a few things over the years.” He shrugged, and it was clear he had no intention of answering any questions “For example, this is based on a Viking age foretelling where they cut off a branch and sliced it into strips and marked them with different signs and threw them at random onto a cloth. Whatever stripes they picked up was the works of the gods. This is just a more definitive version.”

“Sounds easy enough. What do you need me to do?”

“I just need your blood” Kaleb replied.

Ah, blood. The ingredient that was most dangerous in combination with magic. It was used for curses, binding spells and all sorts of nasty spells. Could you say you trusted someone you barely know with an ingredient like this? No. But Shank´s research from two days ago was fruitless besides revealing Kaleb's last name, so you had nothing to go on but your gut feeling.

You bit into the thick flesh of your hand, and your blood pooled in your palm, ready to be used “Where do you want it?”

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The minutes dragged on with slow intent, waiting for them to die and move on to the next. The spell brewed, Mikael had left to an adjoining back room to rest and prepare for an uncomfortable fight he claimed to feel in the air. One would write off this premonition as ramblings of a crazy old man, but you can feel it too. Eyes somewhere distant, watching your every move. Claws ready to rupture skin. The question was, whose claws would draw blood first. The list of people that want to execute lethal force upon you had gotten embarrassingly long over the years, and guessing who was on top of that list equals a horse race with bets running high at all times.

You used the waiting time and tried to decode the unlinking spell you had been working on for the last year. But the advanced incantations and spellwork scribbled on the dusty pages were more than you were capable of understanding. Still, you had to try. Not to kill Klaus, but to ensure your brothers and everyone in his sire line was safe if his enemies decide to multiply further. Knowing Klaus, he will trample on everyone's sandcastle like a toddler to prove his point and make enemies out of everyone if he had to.

You glanced over to where Kaleb was chanting with his eyes closed, entirely concentrated on the whispered spell that´s supposed to reveal what the hell was wrong with you. You´ve been trying to find that out for centuries, so you did not hold out hope for a spell like this to work.

Out of nowhere, your senses alerted you of a rustle in the bushes, very soft steps were coming from behind. So faint, it was almost mistakable as the wind. Your ears twitched. Two-legged. Not an animal then.

Kaleb picked up on the sudden change of stature and paused the chanting and shared a look of alertness. "You think it's him? The original?”

“Probably. Or about a thousand other people that want me dead, take your pick. You know of all the places to die this didn't make my list. Where is the blaze of glory and a badass backing track?”

Stepping outside into the cooling night air you kept your eyes on the treeline beyond where the sound came from, but it was clear without sparing too many seconds that there was only one person who would chase you here despite all spoken cautions. And that one wouldn't hide in the bushes. He would instead break a window in or kick the door down rather than hide like some common thief. So why was he silent? Something wasn't right.

"Hey, I'll get some wood for the stove." You stated at high volume, masking your approach to whoever was out there. Wrapping your hands around the axe that penetrated a tree stump, you stepped into the open.

The rustling sound of bushes was persistent, dominating over the deafening sound of crickets near the body of water down the way. They moved from the left to the right, your eyes impulsively trained to pinpoint their movement.

He watched as you disappeared into the bushes, only to appear seconds later, dragging someone behind you in the dirt.

“Got him,” You said, hurling the unconscious stranger over your shoulder.

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Minutes easily passed waiting for the stranger to wake from his scare. But he had no intention of cutting the wait short. His head was hanging low, almost touching his knees. Softly breathing he sat there, while you waited for any sign of movement.

“How is he still unconscious?” You sighed.

"You gave him quite the scare, I'm sure."

"To be fair, that guy looks like he would be scared by a kitten." You said, eying him with pity "I think a nice wakeup call is in order."

"What are you thinking? Fire?" Kaleb chimed in.

"You do know all of this is made out of wood, right?" You asked, pointing on the wooden interiors.

"Don't tell me you don't like to set things ablaze."

"I'm not one for setting anything on fire these days." You muttered, pushing the rush of guilt that enveloped you down where it belonged. Only thinking about the smell of fire, the embers that sprinkle into the air and the blasting heat that melted skin from bones, was enough to wish that you could dig a hole and be swallowed into the earth without abandon.

But there was no time for it now. Perhaps there never will be.

"You know let's not go the magic route." You continued "Sometimes all you need is a good slap in the face to get the day started."

"Sure, who needs caffeine if a slap in the face will do." Kaleb chuckled.

You closed in on the stranger and slapped him in the face with gusto, stirring him awake like an unexpected thunder. Realisation dawned on him when he blinked through his tired eyelids and saw your face

“Oh shit, you're Y/N.” He tried to make a run for the door, but you pushed him back where he came from “Oh God, I'm so dead.”

“See?" You looked over your shoulder gesturing your hands toward the tied up stranger "That is how they usually react. With fear. Not all cocky and all-knowing like you were.”

“Well, I find your intimidation charming.” Kaleb grinned.

"Sure, because me being scary is such an admirable quality."

"You know numerous ways to kill a man. It's hot." He shrugged unapologetically.

“Uh... "The stranger uttered, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "You know I´m still here, right? Not that I don't condone this flirting but-”

"I'm not flirting." You defended adamantly.

"Maybe. But he is, clearly not successfully.” The stranger let out a chuckle and immediately regretted it by the way Kalebs face delved into anger.

Was that how people saw your early partnership with Kaleb? Did they assume you'd just fall into the arms of somebody else that quickly? If a stranger saw it, everyone else would too. You could already hear them talk behind your back, laughing at your broken promises and weak composure. What if those rumors were the only thing Kol would hear when he'd walk the earth again when you were dead and gone? You could not are the thought. However useful Kaleb was maybe you had to get rid of him after all.

“Listen," You continued "If you tell me who sent you, I might let you live. Spoiler alert, probably not.”

"He said to look out for any sign of trouble, that's it. I'm- I don't want any trouble.”

“Who sent you. I want a name.” You asked again, all the while trying to think of who would send an amateur like him after you. These days everyone knew that he'd be gutted if he crossed your path.

Following his continued silence you lowered yourself to his seated level, and with your fingers grazing his clothed chest you said “I wonder if you´ve ever had your chest opened before? Or do you prefer something more magical like boiling from the inside? I don't have much time to spare. So If you don´t talk, you´ll find out.”

“Marcel, okay?!”The stranger spoke with hurry, “He was worried about you hanging out with this guy.” He nodded towards the door. You looked over your shoulder where Kaleb rolled his eyes so hard you swore they'd pop out any second. Eying the stranger again you took notice of his swooped dark hair, overly nervous yet intrigued inquisitive nature and his questionable taste in overly printed dress shirts. It dawned on you that this must be Marcel's friend he had been talking about endlessly.

“Oh, you're his buddy. Josh!” You retreated your hand from his chest and stepped out of his personal space “Sorry for the well, unwelcoming welcome.”

"Yeah, it's becoming kind of a thing with everyone that hangs out with Count Dracula."

You grimaced at his words. "Do I look like I hang out with Klaus in my free time?"

Josh considered for a moment, then shook his head "Yeah… probably not. From what I've heard you're more the stabbing him in the back type." His face fell when you raised an eyebrow and he added "Not that he didn't deserve it."

Ah, that word again. Deserve. Nobody deserves anything. Often neither happiness nor grievances come to those who truly deserve them. It comes to those who consume them if they're entitled to them or not. The ones that persevere and push themselves up by kneeling others into the dirt. Those are the ones that take the good parts while the ones that truly deserve it shoulder the rest. That's the way of the world. Especially the supernatural one. And Klaus was both kneeling in the dirt and pushing others in it. You were unsure if he truly deserved what failed assassination attempt you brought upon him. You were not so sure you were worthy of being the judge, jury and executioner all on your own. Not anymore, and you had no idea if that was a good or bad thing.

“So uh.” Josh looked around the room awkwardly, an unspoken question written over his face. It was nothing new, they all had one if they dared to speak it out loud.

“Ask what you want to ask.” You sighed.

“The stories about you. Are they true?” He asked. Kaleb was interested too as his head snapped towards you in interest

“Most of them.” You shrugged as you leaned against the table's edge behind you. You're not really in the mood to play interview with a vampire "And I think the worst is yet to come so better hurry back and tell Marcel to call off his protectors. I can handle myself. ”

“Yeah, I'd say. You're scary.” Josh headed for the door and dipped to the right only to appear a second later “Uh, I have no idea where I am. "

“I assume you left your car near the church?” You asked and Josh nodded “It's about 20 miles northeast from here. Cell service is fickle, so just follow the trodden path.”

"North East. Yeah right okay." He turned on his heels and headed outside again looking left and right to determine where to go.

"That way." You pointed in the right direction and he thanked you with a round of finger gun before he disappeared. How Marcel has not gotten rid of him yet was beyond you.

“Why does everybody keep saying that?" You returned to Kaleb side "Am I that scary?”

“Terrifying. In the best way.” He smiled and his gaze drifted to the floor before snapping back to your face. There was an intensity in his stare, unwavering and unrelenting in a way that kept your focus longer than it should have.

When Kaleb's fingers drifted over your hand his breath hitched and grew still, and you had no intention of moving away. His calloused fingers grazed over your skin and had it not been for the immortal-ish aspects of you, your hands would be as callused, if not worse.

When you slowly lifted your head to look at him he was so focused on his hand on yours that he did not seem to notice your shifted gaze. Your eyes drifted over his shadowed face, trying to pinpoint what about him it was that kept your attention. There was something familiar about him. The way he held himself, this unwavering confidence and charm that revelled in his authenticity. Perhaps you've met him before when grief had its hold on you, or during one of the anger engulfed moments or perhaps just passed by him on the streets.

He felt familiar in a way that was comforting. Like a song you heard in passing that resurfaced with questionable intention and you´re left wondering why it felt as if you´ve heard it before. He felt like bonding on public transport travelling with the same people day in and day out, only to miss them when they take a different route. Or the passing by someone on the streets wondering if it was a ghost of the past or someone that's just bearing a similar face.

Reality hit soon after your wondering thought and unwavering guilt crushed you under its weight. You drew your hand away and Kaleb jumped at your sudden movement.

Get a grip. What the fuck are you doing?

No attachments. No distractions.

“So, uh... “You cleared your throat, putting some distance between you. “The rune thing. You find anything?”

“Let´s see.” He burdened a smile and returned to the table to find that etched lines have appeared on the bare stone tablets.

“Interesting. These two are next to each other, almost connecting."He said, pointing at the first two stones. The first one symbolises strength. You're bound to an unmatched power, yet no that can't be right.”

“What is it?”

“This rune," He said and pointed to the second one "It symbolises power but as an outside force. You´re not tied to your own power."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"You're bound to something powerful and that power depletes your own when it is being used. Like a battery of sorts."

"Too much power for me to handle, huh? Explains the nosebleeds, I guess. But what is it?"

"Whatever it is it's unlike anything I've seen." Kaleb's further words drifted out of focus when a shower of calculated noises drenched the room. There was someone outside yet again.

You interrupted his foretelling, holding a finger to your lips "We have another visitor. Stay here and don't come out."

Kaleb reached for your upper arm when you turned away from him and said "Don't go out there."

You snapped out of his grasp swiftly glaring at him as you said; "You don't tell me what to do." It was a low blow, sure, but perhaps he would keep his distance or disappear before things got even more complicated. Perhaps acting like this will cast him away.

Turning the corner on the far side of the cabin you were met with a suave demeanour full of torment and rage and a newly found hopelessness you had yet to pinpoint its location.

“Oh good, you're here. Want a drink?” You offered a swig of the bottle on the table outside.

“I'm in no mood to socialize,” Klaus declined sternly, the darkness parting for his body as he stepped onto the splintering wooden walkway.

“When are you ever?" You deadpanned, but Klaus was far from being amused. You tried to lighten the mood, but it was of no use. He was furious. No doubt Esther or her bootlicker of a son spilt the beans about the white oak. Handling matters delicately was never their strong suit.

"I can tell by the look on your face that you're here to kill me.” You said, trying to soothe the oncoming onslaught of judgement that was heading your way “I assume I deserve it, but can you tell me why this time? Just so I can keep track. ”

Klaus dragged his tongue over his parsed lips letting out a pitiful hushed laugh before he sat next to you, staring ahead. “I was simply minding my own business - ruling, killing my enemies and what not - and low and behold what do I hear? The white oak stake has resurfaced in the hands of my mother. My my, word does travel fast among the damned, now doesn't it?“

“Well, I'm sorry the world isn't arranging itself for your schedule.” You peered back at his expectant face. Anger was flaring through your blood, an amplified sensation whenever Klaus was near. “But I don't see why this is my problem?”

“Don´t be coy with me. This has your name written all over. Disruption the order of long-established rules of battle for your twisted little schemes." He trickled his fingers against the wind as if he was holding strings attached to a marionette to control at his will. No doubt, he viewed you as a puppeteer master these days. High praise indeed, especially coming from someone as wicked as him.

“I want to know why." His voice was quieter, soft almost, as he spoke into the wind "Why did you defy me when I gave you nothing but trust?” The way he stared holes in the floor uttering these words rattled a rush of guilt that you never expected to be directed at Klaus of all people. Klaus was confident with threats and violence, but bearing himself open was something he barely had the courage for.

“Let's not pretend that we trust each other just because we shared a sentimental moment. Once.”

“You know, I find it fascinating that you believe you are invincible to my wrath.” He continued harsher, covering his vulnerability “Our agreement has been made null and void by your actions, and you don't seem to care. More so you seem to enjoy it. Why is that?”

“You´re the master schemer here, tell me, what do you think I'm doing?” You leaned forward, eager to know what he had to say. No doubt he´d see right through the parts you wanted him to see. The question was if he had any idea beyond that. He was the mighty Klaus after all, and more so he was smart.

“I'd say you're playing both sides, though the recent events convinced me of something else entirely. You're bold, fearless; striking without weighing the consequences. Suspicious, isn't it? Unless you have the upper hand.” He turned his head again, observing your reaction like a hawk. “Is this charade your grand plan? Aiding my mother in her endeavors by handing over the only weapon that could kill my family? I must say, I'm not impressed.”

“You think that's the only part? Just another revenge fantasy? And here I thought you finally learned not to underestimate me.”

“It is because I do not underestimate you that I came here.” He said. It was high praise indeed coming from him, even if it came with a trickle of insult to be compared to the likes of the big bad Klaus.

“Good call, not sending Elijah then. He'd kill me just for ruining his shoes in this terrain. But if this is the only reason you came then you can go right back to your castle and rule your kingdom because Esther doesn't have the real white oak. It's s copy.”

Klaus cocked his head to the side, the lamps fire now perfectly reflecting in his eyes. The look of distrust was written over his face, yet there was no doubt that he was intrigued by the information you laid out.

“See? I´m not trying to play games here. I give you my word.” You added with the hope that at least your word had not lost its ´s value when everything else had.

He paused, dragging his tongue over his bottom lips swiftly, weighing his responses. “Your word means nothing until you live up to it.” You nodded, a silent promise you had no idea if you could uphold. Who were you kidding, of course, there wasn’t any way you would not place his head on the chopping block if it came to it. This whole thing was nothing but polite stakeouts as a way to keep up with the other´s schemes. Problem was, Klaus would offer you up just the same without blinking.

The old Klaus anyway.

If you would listen to the things circulating about him as of late, you'd think he had lost his old tyrannic ways. Found some way to soothe his grudge with the world and became a better person. It was laughable. People don´t change, you found that they mask themselves, sculpting a new life out what the fires left behind. They don´t change, they overpaint. And it was time that the ones whispering about Klaus alleged newly-found compassion, learned that lesson too or they´d head for disappointment. Either way, they'd wake up.

Shuffling from inside averted your attention to the cabin where Mikael and Kaleb were still hidden. Klaus' interest was peaked when your eyes slanted over to the side and remained there for a moment.

“What is it?” He questioned.

You forced your eyes forward, despite the impending doom running through your veins. “Thought I heard something. Probably just an animal somewhere. Or someone who wants to kill me. Take your guess. These days I'm almost as unpopular as you.” You laughed, quickly glancing through the window again.

Klaus followed your gaze again but saw nothing but an empty cabin. He turned and walked across the porch to look into the other window and although he could not see anything, Mikael was inside with his hands around Kaleb´s throat demanding him to grant his release from your boundary spell. Klaus knew that dealing with witches- even a half witch like you- did not mean that what was in front of your eyes was necessarily what was truly there.

“Well here's to living up to my promises.” You said as you made your way to the door. I guess I'll see you back in town, yeah?” You tried to get rid of him, but it was too late. Klaus' paranoia had already sounded the alarm in his head and snapped the door closed with a push of his hand.

"Who is with you?" His voice was dangerously low and calm, which only predicted the worst.

"No one. You know I don't do well in team scenarios." You waved him off. You had to get rid of him or this whole plan will go to hell. Plus your new friend in there would suffocate if kept fighting Mikael.

Without being aware, you took a step back on the brittle flooring denting it enough to let the staff that was still leaning near the door fall from his resting place. It rolled on the angled flooring right towards Klaus’ feet. At first, he glanced at it, but at the second look, his eyes grew wide. He'd recognize the bearing crest anywhere. Within the next heartbeat, he dragged his eyes from the floor and you were granted a look that put hellfire to shame.

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Your heartbeat beat so loudly it seemed to want to escape your chest, to flee the oncoming slaughter. You were not one to run, to hide and cower in fear. But this was different. Klaus knew you brought his hateful father back to life and he was right outside a spelt door, ready to burn this place down if he had to. There was no reprieve. You knew that the beating of your heart was numbered, counting down to your own demise.

You could´ve made him bleed, unconscious or writhe in pain, but it would not hold him down forever. Nothing could. So you headed for the door which gave you the luxury of a few more minutes before he would skin you alive. Distance was all that mattered, even if that distance was a brittle door that if not for the magic seal would break in two by the way Klaus was hammering against it.

“If you want to fight me, why are you running?” Klaus yelled and paraded on the porch like a lion in a cage that was ready to end his captors. You turned your back towards the rattling door, your attention now focused on Mikael who still had Kaleb in his grasp.

“Release me or I will end him!” Mikael said, his fingers digging into Kaleb´s neck, cutting off his air supply, ready to snap his neck like a twig if he had to.

You balled your hand to a fist forcing Mikael to his knees to bear the pain of your magic “You think you're in any position to make demands?” You shared a look with a heavy breathing Kaleb and he nodded while grasping his neck, signalling he was fine, though hurt in his pride.

“Enough games, Y/N!” You jumped at Klaus´s voice which invaded through the cracks in the walls. “Let's finish this. Is this not why you brought him for? I'm not afraid.”

You opened the door with a flick of your free hand while Mikael was kept in place with the other.

If you cannot fight them on your own, let them fight each other.

There you stood between the devil and the deep blue sea, one decision worse than the next, one would bring hellfire while the other would leave you stranded on the bottom of the ocean. There was- without a doubt- no silver lining at the crossroads you arrived at. If you released Mikael and held up your end of the bargain Mikael would slay Klaus and with him his entire line. Your brothers would die. You would die sooner than expected and thousands of vampires would die by your hand. Your chance of getting Kol his life back would slip through your hands like sand in an hourglass.

However letting Klaus in to fight his father would either result in the same outcome or he'd kill Mikael and with it every bargaining chip - and if necessary threat- you had hidden in your hold. Either way, you were backed into a corner, and an animal in a corner always fought back.

You took a breath that was loaded with thought. The men in the room picked up on your hesitation and Klaus was the first that dared to speak. “Let him go. I can't wait to stand over his burning corpse. Only this time, I intend to enjoy it more. ”

He knew what was on the line for you if you let them fight. He knew. And something in his face told of nothing but victory. So you let them go and chase each other to death. Hatred was useful in a fight and Klaus had more than anyone. He will win. He had to.

Right?

Kaleb watched from behind as you drew the curtain open to and surely enough there in the distance, beyond the scarce line of trees you saw them fight. They managed to disrupt each of their blows but even from afar you saw Mikael had the upper hand. He kicked Klaus onto the ground and knocked him flat on his back towering over him.

"And you're going storm after them right about…" Kaleb counted on his wrist as if checking an imaginary clock. Now."

You shot him a glare with the doorknob already in your grasp. You exited with Kaleb only a few steps behind. You were already vamp speeding away when Kaleb collided with the boundary spell

"Of course." He sighed and took in the room he was now trapped in "I guess it's time to set this thing on fire."

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A/N: I know it has been....months. 2020 y´all. Shit´s crazy. In all seriousness, my life did a 360 this year - as it did with everyone- so please excuse my absolute snail speed with writing these days.But thank you to everyone that´s here right now at the end of yet another chapter. Please let me know if you have any thoughts!!

Also I was proud of my little sneak sentence when she talks about Klaus being hopeless. Because you know, he´s without Hope. I rather liked that.

Open Coffin Series Taglist: (message me if you want on or off this list!)

@shadyladyperfection @akshi8278 @thegoddessofvampire @newurleans @originalbish98 @acourtofhopeanddreams @bonniebird @imnoaingeal @cherryblossomllama @relmi-llorrac @piercethepottorff @maliae14 @5-seconds-of-animals @the-geeky-engineer @rock-n-magick @flymeawayworld @givemesomehybrid @mikealsonlover @nuteller28 @fandoms-fandoms-everywhere99 @drkplum @fandooomqueenforyou @free-the-fangirl @clockworkballerina @twisted1ginger @superwholocksociopath474 @pacifyprincessxo @mustachio1616 @thealyana @sandyclaws @unicorntrooper @buckysummers @sanity-is-overratedxp @lunna-star-8 @graysonmalfoy @woodworthti666 @elenavaldez02 @lilulo-12 @selmasemlan @thelostallycat @characterobsessed @cococola-cocaine @crazyinternetgirl @codenamewitcher @-thatgirloverthere- @alwxadria345 @trymexo @mizzezm @willieshakesqueer @spunky-89 @putyourherohaironstefan @xxdragonagequeenxx @thegingerthatwaited @shootingstarsaretearsofheaven @hinata7346 @controloffandoms @sabrielflowers

#kol mikaelson #the originals #the originals imagine #kol mikaelson imagine #the originals fanfic #open coffin

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stonylovessteve · 4 years

Text

Creator Reveals

We’ve reached the end of the exchange and that means it’s time to reveal the creators of all our works.

Thank you for putting so much love and effort into Stony Loves Steve 2020, you really made it a great experience. We hope everyone loved it as much as we did!

Giftees, be sure to leave a comment and kudos on your gift if you haven’t already. All our creators worked hard to make this event a success, so show them some love.

You can now post about your work publicly outside of the exchange. Tag it as #stonylovessteve2020 on tumblr and we’ll reblog you. @ us @stonylovessteve on twitter and we’ll retweet you.

Below the cut is the final list of all the works produced for the exchange and the creators.

Love thy neighbor by captainstars for picturecat (616, 2.2k Words)

Neighbors are supposed to come around to borrow a cup of sugar; these ones take Steve’s husband instead.

“So let me get this right, you came here to save me?” He asked.

Steve ducked his head down in a nod.

“But you managed to get captured by my kidnappers?” He added.

Steve paused, and then repeated the motion.

“And somewhere in the midst of all that, they turned you into a cat.” Tony pointed out, like it wasn’t obvious.

Funnel Cakes and Ferris Wheels by jehbehee for muchmoremajestic (MCU AU, 5.4k Words)

Tony takes Steve on a road trip to help him relax before his last exam.

give me something sweet by starkboi for starksnack (MCU, 1.5k Words)

Steve loves baking on his days off, there's just a missing ingredient that's been on his mind lately.

operation: grocery shopping by starksnack for avengersandco (MCU, 6k Words)

Steve, Peter, and Peter's trusty sidekick Mister Dog set off on a quest to check off everything on their grocery list. Will they find everything they need and get rewards from Tony?

Featuring cloud watching, scented markers, and Born This Way by Lady Gaga.

Moon and Stars by DepressingGreenie for march_hyde (MCU, 2.6k Words)

Steve and Tony spend the full moon at their cabin in the woods.

there's no place i'd rather be, without you beside me by ircnshield for starkboi (MCU, 10.5k Words)

“I don’t think he wants you to leave,” Natasha jokes from the couch.

“Yeah, no kidding,” Tony says as he bends down to scratch behind the dog's ear. “Look, buddy, I’ll give you a treat if you stop looking at me like that and let me go down to my lab.”

Dodger, seemingly unimpressed, walks closer towards Tony’s shoes, turns his body around, and simply drops his body on top of them.

Turn a Little Faster by Ishipallthings for b0n3l3ssm1lk (AA, 5.4K Words)

Tony and Natasha pose as a couple for an undercover mission. Steve doesn’t find this distracting. Not at all.

And yet, it all goes downhill from there.

(5 times Steve is distracted thinking of Tony, and 1 time Tony distracts Steve on purpose.)

Taking chances by hundredthousands for shcrlockholmcs (MCU, Comic)

Tony can’t resist it when Steve gets like this, and he’s feeling a tad uninhibited tonight.

say my prayers by farawatt for jayjayverse (616, 3.3k Words)

Steve gets into the motel at a quarter past nine in the morning.

You've Got That Power Over Me by stevesnarkrogers for alexcat (MCU, 8k Words + Fanvid)

“Pull it together, Stark,” Tony muttered to himself.

Steve’s chest ached at the sound of Tony’s voice. God, he missed him. He wanted nothing more than to wrap him up in his arms and see if they could—no. YOU pull it together, Rogers. You’re here to help Tony, not yourself. Eyes up, soldier.

Net of Wonder by hollyandvice (hiasobi_writes) for Syan (MCU, 2.4k Words)

"You can't control me." Then Tony whips his tail again to turn away from his father.

"You swim out that door and I'm planning your wedding and coronation myself."

Tony stills. He swallows down the way the oppression tries to pound him flat. But there's no avoiding the inevitable. He looks over his shoulder to glare at Howard. "Be my guest. It's not like you ever would have listened to me anyway."

Tony isn't expecting an apprentice when he goes to meet with Yinsen after a blowout fight with her dad, but he finds all that and more in Steve Rogers. Steve gives Tony everything he needs while Tony runs from his future, never knowing that their futures might be more entwined than they'd realized.

diastolic pressure (in between heartbeats) by firebrands for betheflame (MCU, 8k Words)

For flame, who gave the prompt "Steve and Tony have been fake dating for a while, but everyone else thinks they're *really* in love. When a mission goes terribly and Tony is presumed dead, Steve realizes he's in love with Tony and Dramatic Shenanigans Ensue."

Same Difference. by Perlmutt for Huntress79 (MCU AU, 5k Words)

Tony and Steve are the successful heads of two different divisions of SHIELD IT Security and are the walking wet dreams of all ladies in the company. Tony Stark is the elegant genius with his dark humor while the newcomer Steve Rogers is known for his gentlemanly behaviour and kindness. On the surface the two men are rivals. But there's more to it than meets the eye...

Canteen food is horrible, the intern is chaotic, and Tony goes toe-to-toe with a hyena to rescue the princess who doesn't need to be rescued...

Why Need a Thousand Words? I Prefer a Picture Instead by march_hyde for Neverever (MCU, 4k Words + Art)

Steve is struggling with a project for Tony, not that he knows of it. So of course Tony finds out and has to help out with whatever he can do.

Operation Check Yes or No by avengersandco for hundredthousands (MCU, 2.7k Words)

Steve just wants Tony to notice him, but he’s not sure how. Lucky for him, his friends help him make a plan to capture the attention of the one he wants.

When I Look At You by Syan for AvengersNewB (MCU, Comic)

Steve is always looking at Tony in very meaningful ways... Or very embarrassed ways, depending on the situation~

for god's sake, dear (just say yes). by frostfall for captainmistyknight (vicspeaks) (AA, 10.8k Words)

Ever since they’ve met, Steve has been in love with Tony Stark. So when Tony makes a marriage pact with him, he jumps at the offer, thinking that’s the only way he could have Tony.

Fast forward five years, and Steve is ready to pop the question to Tony, with hopes that maybe, just maybe, Tony feels the same.

That is, until he meets Carol Danvers, who just so happens to be dating Tony.

Honey, Keep the Sugar, You’re Enough for Me by Shamen610 for avengersincamphalfbloodstardis (MCU, 1.6k Words)

"I want you to draw me like one of your french girls." Tony had said, the very first time he had walked through his door.

Steve, who had been carrying a bag full of paints and a canvas under his arm, had barely been able to keep everything under wraps upon hearing the bold words.

Steve doesn't actually have a Sugar Daddy, no matter what Bucky says.

Lullaby by alexcat for XtaticPearl (MCU, 1.9k Words)

Steve has nightmares and Tony helps.

Achromatic by captainmistyknight (vicspeaks) for firebrands (Marvel Noir, 2.8k Words)

"Steve’s life ended the moment he was born, according to the doctor’s at least. Of course, it took them awhile to figure it out, but when he was three years old, his Ma realized that on top of all the other issues he had to deal with, his eyes weren’t responding properly to light. She took him to the doctors to get tested, and they spoke his doom.

He was permanently colorblind. An achromat. He’d never know love."

A story of growing up, misunderstandings, and love in the jungle.

Easing Into Us by HogwartsToAlexandria for wingheads (MCU, 4.9k Words)

No matter how much he's tried, Steve could never find the right moment to tell Tony, to come out to him in a setting that'd be both private and allow him to flee if it didn't go as well as he hoped it would.

Until some jerk at the bar decided that Tony being an out and proud trans man was reason enough to pick up a fight. And Steve couldn't stand by and watch it happen.

Tony didn't much like that. At first. Ask him again tomorrow.

Bring Me His Heart by jellybeanforest for firelightmystic (MCU, 6.3k words)

Steve Rogers, infamous cat burglar, is hired by Tony’s business rival and ex-girlfriend, Sunset Bain, to carry out a little corporate espionage, namely to steal the original arc reactor prototype Stark had surgically removed from his chest.

Steve does steal his heart, but perhaps not in the way his employer had envisioned.

Or:

Tony interrupts Steve mid-heist in his penthouse and assumes he is the escort he hired for the night; Steve doesn’t correct him.

Memories of Us by muchmoremajestic for QueenE (MCU, 3.5k words)

An examination of three objects in retrospect as part of a scrapbook for a birthday gift for Steve.

Graphic Design is my Passion by zappedbysnow for talesofsuspense (Marvel, Comic)

Tony was about to have lunch when he saw someone he didn't want to run into inside the restaurant. He quickly backed away and snuck into a cafe nearby, plunking his ass onto a chair shielded by a wall, which just happened to be Steve Roger's art class.

Steve is an artist who does commercial work and draws comics. He spends his weekends teaching a drawing class for free at a local cafe. He doesn't recognize the guy who snuck into his class in a suit that looks like it costs more than his month's rent but he looks stressed and like he's running from someone. He can let this one slide. And no. It's not because the man looks damn fine. He's just a sympathetic guy.

The Love of Every Single One of My Lives by jellybeanforest for farawatt (616, 10.3k words)

Tony loves Steve, and he will always love him no matter how many times he has to bury the man before he gets it right.

Priceless by njava97 for kesktoon04 (MCU, 9.3k words)

Steve Rogers feels like he’s finally gotten the hang of this waking up in the future thing. He’s been dating Tony Stark for 6 months now and it's been going surprisingly well. But when an extravagant anniversary present brings up bad memories and a mission goes sideways, Steve is forced to confront the fact that maybe the first step to letting go of the past involves letting people in. Or: Steve Rogers has a series of epiphanies in a hospital bed, expresses a couple of emotions, talks about his problems and gets all the love he deserves.

AKA my love letter to Steve Rogers.

Ouanga by fundamentalBlue for venusiaries (MCU, 7.7k words)

Steve wakes up to the sound of screaming.

Take a Hand by RoseRose for HogwartsToAlexandria (MCU, 3.4k words)

Steve is single, alone, and about to give birth.

Fortunately, Tony is an amazing nurse.

Falling in Love at the All Day Cafe by betheflame for BladeoftheNebula (MCU, 3.9k words)

One of the things about the particular block they lived on was that at the corner was, quite possibly, the world’s best bakery. It was Zagat rated and everything, so it wasn’t just Tony that felt that way. People flew in from all over the world to eat at All Day Cafe - Tony had bumped into Gwenyth Paltrow a few months ago and thought it was his best friend, Pepper, and that was awkward - and their pastries were no joke.

Run by Olympic Gold Medalist Steve Rogers, the cafe specialized in classic French pastries with American twists - like a pain au chocolat that also came encrusted in pistachios - and routinely sold out of their daily specials within two hours of opening. Peter, in particular, loved their peanut butter cookies that the baker swore was nothing special but Tony was wondering if they’d laced it with kiddie cocaine or something.

Tony, in particular, loved going to stare at the owner.

That’s What You Get (for waking up in Vegas) by bon3l3ssm1lk for JehBeeEh (MCU, 1.3k words)

A dimly lit bar blasting dance music. A rugged man making conversation. A third round of beers, courtesy of the man. A fourth, fifth, and sixth round.

Steve couldn't remember much else.

laughing in bed by wingheads for RoseRose (MCU, Art)

prompt: sex with laughter

James & Barnaby by Wikketkrikket for mariana_oconnor (MCU AU, 16.7k Words)

Steve Rogers has medical debt so ridiculous that if he doesn't do something about it, his mother will be out on the street. He swallows his pride and agrees to a 'charity marriage' with the elusive son of Howard Stark, so Howard can show off how wealthy and generous they are. Maybe it would have worked, too, if he hadn't then met the love the love of his life on his last night of freedom.

Still (Until you moved me) by GuiltyFan21 for maythecat12 (MCU, 2k Words)

Steve hates it in the 21st century, where everything is so different. Life's a mess, the only constant thing being SHIELD coming to check on him. Until he meets Tony Stark, a brilliant genius who makes him feel more human.

The Icing on the Cake by BladeoftheNebula for Lacrimula_Falsa (MCU AU, 2.8k Words)

Steve’s a bit low on cash this month, so he figures making a bit extra by jumping out of a cake couldn’t hurt.

If only someone had told the birthday boy that.

The Next Life by Sheron for hollyandvice (hiasobi_writes) (MCU, 2.5k Words)

Eventually Tony had said: listen, I own an island, let's go.

artwork and email by ohjustpeachy for njava97 (MCU AU, 6.7k Words)

Tony makes a donation to Art Reach, a non-profit, never expecting to get such a kind thank you note in response. He certainly never thought he'd find himself excited to look in his inbox every day, eager for a new message from the foundation's director, Steve Rogers, but here he is. Or, Tony falls for smol Steve over a bunch of emails and everyone knows it but him.

Hug n' Fly by talesofsuspense for rebeccakbaa (616, Art)

Iron Man flies Steve back to the mansion after he loses the serum.

who's that? by venusiaries for Perlmutt (MCU AU, Art)

Quarterback Steve Rogers meets the love of his life in the hallway.

Closer Than Together by shcrlockholmcs for ircnshield (MCU, 5.6k words)

The annual Stark Industries Gala is coming up and Steve wants to ask Tony. But his efforts are of no avail and they both end up going alone. How can Steve stand by and watch everyone else take a bite out of the man he has feelings for?

Brooklyn Life by ashes0909 for himbos (MCU, 1.6 words)

Steve mentally followed his boyfriend's path across the bedroom and down the stairs into the living room

“Oh that fucking--!” Tony cried before he’d even made it past the couch. “Steve!

Objectively Perfect by AvengersnewB for Wikketkrikket (MCU, 2k words)

Going on an objectively perfect, but absolutely horrible date might be the last sign Steve needs to finally talk to the guy he actually wants to be on a date with, so desperately.

(Spoiler: The guy is Tony)

Instinctual by mariana_oconnor for DepressingGreenie (MCU, 17k words)

The true effects of the super soldier serum are top secret. Only a few people know the truth - the serum turned Steve Rogers into a werewolf. Steve still hasn't found a way to tell Tony, even though they've been in a relationship for months. He can't bring himself to explain that he's a monster.

But when they are clearing out an AIM base, that decision is taken out of his hands.

Could Never Resist a Man with Facial Hair by kenshincha for zappedbysnow (MCU, 1.5k words)

The team is tired of Steve and Tony pining for each other. They decide to do something about it.

A timely revelation by frosted_astronaut for captainstars (MCU/1872, 2.3k words + Moodboard)

Sheriff Rogers is in love with Tony Stark, the blacksmith. However, he denies it even in front of himself, until it's time for him to realize that he can't live in a lie forever.

Central (Jurassic) Park & More by cccoffee for nanasekei (MCU, Art)

A collection of art pieces for Stony Loves Steve 2020!

Something Fell From the Sky by jayjayverse for Shamen610 (616, Art)

When Tony is missing in action. Steve starts looking for him right away and when he finally finds him, it's nothing like he thought it would be.

-The art is really explicit so take care :)

I'll Catch You (If You Fall) by maythecat12 for ishipallthings (MCU AU, 10.4k Words)

New York: an artist and a superhero, an accident, and getting back together.

Just One Of Those Nights (The SLS Remix) by Firelightmystic for jellybeanforest (MCU, 6.4k Words)

Natasha's been angling to set Steve up on a date for a while now...

In Your Wildest Dreams by Neverever for cccoffee (AA, 3.4k Words)

The Guardians ask the Avengers to pick some flowers. What could go wrong with that?

Breath of a Fish by picturecat for sheron (AA, 4.9k Words)

Their relationship was courteous, as it must be for any two witches who had no interest in feuding with one another properly. But to someone he could trust not to repeat his words, Steve often complained that Stark was basically a warlock, the way he carried on with esoteric nonsense and ignoring the needs of the people. For his part, Steve had no idea what Stark’s objection to him was. He knew only that the man so obviously delighted in teasing Steve that the people of their town regularly placed bets on when they expected them to come to blows.

The Ballad of Nomad by himbos for GuiltyFan21 (MCU AU, 3.1k Words)

Set in the Old West, Steve Rogers, who moonlights as the vigilante Nomad, and his lover, Tony Stark, make a stop in the town of Extremis. Little did they know, trouble awaited.

How To Woo A Living Legend (by Anthony Stark) by Huntress79 for stevesnarkrogers (MCU, 1.5k Words)

Past the fight against the Chitauri, Tony finally finds the courage to act on his long-harbored feelings for a certain Captain. But he never, ever would have expected that the “Tactical Genius of the Century” could be this blind in regards to Tony’s attempts.

Take a number by jellybeanforest for kenshincha (MCU, 7.2k Words)

Since an unforgettable one-night stand a few years prior, alpha Steve Rogers has pined after infamously-promiscuous omega Tony Stark. He may not have much money, but he has scrimped and saved for the past couple years, determined to declare his intentions by getting the man the best courting gift he can afford, something to distinguish himself from the dozens of more well-heeled suitors gunning for the heart of the elusive billionaire.

All-American Cupcake by One and Five Nines (Obani) for frostfall (MCU, Comic)

“You’re a jackass sometimes, Steve. I’ve seen you get into a fistfight with three guys at once, but you can’t even TALK to the guy you’ve been in love with since we opened.”

#stonylovessteve2020 #Steve Rogers #stony #stevetony #superhusbands

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