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bcbdrums · 4 years ago

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Victory

For a fellow Drakgo fan, it’s @dawhitebag‘s birthday tomorrow! Happy birthday!!!

Inspired by three pieces of their art: 1, 2, and 3

Read on other sites: FFn AO3

Enjoy “Victory,” a tiny AU ending to So the Drama.

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On the computer screen: destruction. Outside the building, a timely lightning storm that would have made any super-villain envious. And inside, standing before the screen, the mad scientist's head was thrown back in maniacal laughter.

Shego watched from the back of the room as henchmen seated at rows of computer consoles maintained careful control of the Li'l Diablos—Drakken's (finally) successful robots that had been his means of taking over the world. The big screen was cycling between news feeds from cities of various nations where armed forces were useless against Drakken's—for once—brilliant plan.

Or had they all been brilliant, and she had just never seen it before? In most every one of his previous plans, she had been over his shoulder, mocking him all the way. This time he had kept everything secret from her. He had said it was to make sure Kim Possible wouldn't discover it, but she wondered now... Had he shut her out so he could actually succeed?

She looked at Drakken's back, and the way he stood taller and prouder than she'd ever seen him. Hands on his hips as the well-tailored suit made clear the fact that the person who usually skulked in an over-sized blue lab coat was in fact a man, and one she realized she was spending more and more of her thoughts on. He turned then, and she noticed how the electric blue of the suit seemed to make his skin and eyes less corpse-like and more vibrant.

He was grinning at her, but not with the chaotic abandon she'd expected. Yes, his eyes held fire and glee, but there was also a knowing within the dark depths as he stared at her, and a desire to know. It sent her heart racing, and she instinctively straightened up from where she was leaned back against the wall. Usually when she let her thoughts stray from the professional to the impossible, it was he who fell uncomfortable under her gaze. But there was something different in his eyes; he had never looked at her that way before.

"Go get changed."

"E-Excuse me?" she answered with unexpected fluster.

"You should be on my level when we make our announcement about ruling the world," he said, gesturing broadly to his suit.

Her eyes widened. "We...?"

"Yes of course...unless... You don't want to make the announcement with me?"

He looked worried for the first time in days, and Shego quickly pushed off the wall and turned to go find something less side-kick and more...co-ruler of the world? Was that what he was saying?

"Give me a minute, I'll be right back."

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Drakken replayed the image of Shego's retreating back with unease as his nerve-endings were tingling with a slow build of anxiety. He stared at the images on the computer screen, all revealing his triumph in explosive detail. He had hoped to impress her... He had hoped that taking over the world would show her he was more than he appeared, and certainly more than the losers she kept dating.

Recently she had acted more friendly toward him. She had even taken him up on an offer to get revenge against one of the gorillas who had dumped her. Evil bonding was a good secret first date, he had thought. And while she had certainly enjoyed it, and even seemed to enjoy his company...nothing changed beyond that.

He knew world domination was the only way to be worthy of her. But...he had succeeded, and she had yet to say a word about it. Would she reject the offer he was going to make her, of ruling the world together...? It was extremely risky, he knew, but over the past several months as he plotted and schemed, impressing her always at the front of his mind, he had come to realize... Shego was his world. He didn't want to do it without her.

The soft sound of Shego clearing her throat caused him to whirl around, and then his brow rose. She was dressed in the blouse and skirt set modeled after her costume that she had worn when they'd gone to see Brotherson at the Bermuda Triangle. And...she might have done something to her makeup, because her eyes were somehow more vibrant, and her hair was as luxurious as ever.

"This good?" she asked off-handedly, glancing down at the claws of her glove.

"Yes," he said, swallowing a lump in his throat and then clearing it. He hadn't expected her to wear...that, or anything so alluring and feminine. He tried to put back on his usual airs as he beckoned her forward with a small jerk of his head. "Perfect."

Shego seemed to hold her breath before moving, releasing it only when the clack of her heeled boots started eliminated the distance between them.

"Dunno why you need me for this," she said nonchalantly.

Drakken realized he was holding his breath too.

"I thought...you might enjoy more of a...leading role, now. Now that there's no reason to hide things anymore," he quickly justified his statement.

Shego looked up at him with a raised brow. "You mean...co-ruler?"

Drakken bit the inside of his cheek. He selfishly wanted to rule the world alone, but...this might be his only chance.

"I can think of none better," he said, holding his hand out to her not to shake, but palm up and open. He was glad for his gloves to hide his skin's clamminess.

Shego looked between his face and his hand. There was something unspoken in her eyes that made him nervous, and her too apparently as she glanced away to the brightness of the destruction still displayed on screen.

Her silence was causing his anxiety to rise and he rushed to fill it.

"We can...work out the details later."

Shego looked back at his hand, and then up into his eyes. He held her gaze, despite wanting to look away and make excuses for what he was saying. He was expecting the usual sarcastic quip or question of doubt, but instead she simply stared at him. She had never done that before, and he wanted to escape her verdant gaze as much as he longed to fall into it.

She slowly lifted her hand and set her gloved fingertips in his palm, her cheeks coloring as she did so. His lips parted in a silent gasp as her eyes suddenly filled with uncertainty at the same time she rose up on her toes.

Lightning flashed outside, and the next moment was a blur as her other hand was somehow resting on his shoulder and his other inexplicably on the bare flesh at her waist. He saw the flutter of her eyelashes just before her eyes closed, and then her lips pressed softly against his.

The moment was broken far too quickly as he became aware of more things: the orange reflective glow from the explosions on screen, the sudden silence in the room but for the storm outside as the henchmen all stared at them, and the way Shego's hand tightly gripped his.

When she pulled back from the too-brief glimpse into heaven, her eyes were worried and questioning. But not regretful. Drakken released his breath as he gripped her hand in return, a smile of unbridled joy blooming across his face that he couldn't have held back if he wanted to. Her expression changed to one of relief, hope, and excitement, and as he lifted his other hand from her waist to put behind her head and draw her back to the intimate moment, an answering smile filled her face.

The instant before their lips met they were startled from the moment by a resounding cheer, and they both turned to see the entire room of henchmen on their feet, applauding and shouting and a few even exchanging money over bets won and lost no doubt. Drakken ran his hand over his hair sheepishly, but the feel of Shego's hand looping through his arm drew his focus back to her and where she was smiling up at him, trying to maintain her usual air of confidence through the shy joy that had filled her eyes.

"Shego..." He wasn't sure what else he would have said, but the awed breathing of her name was all he could manage.

She cleared her throat, though it didn't do anything to mask the blush in her cheeks.

"Ruling the world?" she said softly.

Drakken blinked. "Right... Jameson!" he bellowed for the henchman, "Get ready for the broadcast!"

Drakken and Shego turned to face the computer screen that changed to show their image. He was startled by what he saw, as he had only ever seen it in his dreams before: Shego on his arm, her confidence, beauty, and intelligence...devoted to him.

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Shego looked at Drakken's eyes through the video monitor where his assurance suddenly seemed to have faltered. Her heart was still racing from the impulsive kiss, but she couldn't have agreed to rule the world with him without knowing. But suddenly, something seemed to have changed.

"Dr. D.?" she asked softly, her fingers tightening on his arm in what she hoped was reassurance.

He blinked a few times and then looked down, anxiety rapidly joining the happiness in his eyes. His jaw worked for a moment before one word finally slipped out.

"Me...?"

Shego grinned. "Yes. You."

He seemed to calm, but then his brow furrowed. She cut him off before he could continue.

"Why me?" Drakken's brow rose in response. And again, she cut him off. "Probably similar reasons?"

Drakken considered, and Shego decided in a split-second to let her own remaining uncertainty show.

"We can...talk about all of it later. As long as you're sure...?"

Drakken grabbed her hand on his arm and held it tight, nodding firmly.

"Yes. I'm sure."

The laser-focus in his eyes was all the assurance she needed, and as her expression melted back to happiness she watched his shift into the same.

"So..." she sighed as she felt her nerves finally begin to calm, "talk later... But right now, I believe we have a broadcast to make?"

Drakken straightened, and his broad grin of victory returned.

"Yes," he said firmly, "we do."

Shego mirrored his devilish look as they faced the screen again, taking just a moment to survey the image that met them once more. Side by side, and arm in arm... She honestly wondered what had taken them so long.

Drakken turned and nodded at the henchman waiting to begin the live broadcast to the world that they now owned. He turned back and gave Shego that same knowing grin that had spurred her to action. She returned it in kind.

"Let's do it!"

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oh-my-otome · 8 years ago

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Otome Sitch: Pregnancy Scare

Prompt brought to you by this Precious Anon. Here we go!

Rank: You’re sorry you even bothered

What you said: “...a little late, I think.” What they heard: "Baby on the way!”

Before you can explain that you’re not sure yet, they’re already cartwheeling around the room in ecstasy. You exchange an exasperated side-eye with Nanny (Kanetsugu/Giles/Kirisato/Tadatsugu) and throw your hands into the air. They’ll figure it out eventually.

Kenshin has thrown himself head-first into his room of requirement storage room, and started digging around, looking for the most beautiful of his treasures. To set aside as heirlooms, of course. He’s even sorting things properly so that he can accomplish his task. You start to say something, but find that Kanetsugu has snuck up behind you and clasped his hand firmly over your mouth. “Don’t you dare!” he breathes. “I’ve been trying to get him to clean this junk out forever!”

When you told him that you had something to talk about, Nico held you in his arms and told you not to worry-- you’ll figure this out. As you left to go to your lessons, he walked back to his room. He looked over his shoulder as he went, the better to make sure the coast was clear. Closing the door behind him, he settled his slender frame against it, and waited a beat-- just to make certain that it was absolutely silent --before shouting “Yeeeeeeees!” You can hear him from the ball room.

Yuki is already threading a needle and is surrounded by various baby-sized patterns. The two of you are happily chatting away about fabrics before you realize that you’ve been swept up in his enthusiasm. “Dammit, Yuki! Now is not the time!”

“You’re right,” he replies, “we should knit booties first!”

Ieyasu’s half-eaten daifuku rolls out of his hand as he stares at you in amazement. The next thing you know, you’re flat on your back, inexplicably tucked into his bedding. He sits by your side happily grinding away with his mortar and pestle, dipping into his medicine chest occasionally. Curious, you start to sit up, but he nudges you back down, eventually thrusting a bowl of...something...right under your nose.

’ugh...swamp water? That’s definitely swap water...’ you try not to grimace.

“You need your vitamins at a time like this!” he says, looking quite proud of himself.

Kyo was finding it hard to keep the corners of his mouth from curving up. He never even thought that he would be in a position that might result in your pregnancy to begin with. You can tell that he’s trying to remain calm and be supportive, but his excitement is leaking out into his voice, and he’s practically bouncing on his toes with glee. You remind him that he has patrol and should get going. You lied.

You feel a little dizzy as Kondo places you back on the ground, after having spun you around. You remind him again that you’re still not sure yet, but his happy expression doesn’t change as he takes you into his arms once more. You thought he was bad at making sure all of his swords had names. Now, you’re trying to talk him out of suggesting them for a potential bun.

Rank: To the book shelf! And Beyond!

They’re covered in dust from reading. You don’t even try to clean around them anymore; you just start drawing shapes in it, as it collects on the floor. While they admit that their pull-out game wasn’t exactly top-notch the last time, they vow to read every last bit of information available from predicting luteal phases to choosing a midwife.

“Hideyoshi, of course!” says Mitsunari, right before you calmly set aside the manju and whack him on the back of the head with the tray.

Albert now knows your cycle like the back of his Byron obsession and appears at your bedside every morning with a basal thermometer.

Okubo is still quiet as a mouse. You get the feeling that he is silently filing away every detail, as he glances at you now and then. On occasion, though, he will ask you things that reveal his true intentions, his voice unusually halting. “Which one of us do you suppose a baby might look like?”

Rank: Craaaaap!

Flipping tf out, pacing the floor, berating themselves. They were careful. Meticulous, even. They look calm enough on the outside, but inside, they’re a mess.

Each of them has a job that affords them little free time, and little control over their own schedule. Also, they all have enemies...which means you and your potential bun have enemies. They’re cautiously supportive while they tear their remaining hair out.

Saizo and Katsura are beside themselves. There’s just no way they can accept the missions that they were just given at this point. If there was a time to disobey orders, it was right now.

You had come to them near tears. Without hesitation, you were pulled down into their lap, their hand smoothing your hair rhythmically until you fell asleep. You hadn’t even realized how exhausted you were.

They look down at you, their hand pausing on its path. Instead of bringing it back across the silken trail of your hair, they stroke your cheek instead. Leaning their head back against the wall, a broken sigh cuts through the dark. “We’ll get through this.”

Robert and Giles each listen calmly. As you make your way back to your room, they turn resolutely toward their bathroom door. It’s time for “that.”

This is definitely a three-capful problem, they decide, as they push aside their fluffy towels, reaching all the way to the back to retrieve a thick glass bottle marked “For emergencies.”

Adding the scented bubble bath to the water, they slip under the bubbly surface and consider how to have their cake and eat it too. They’ve already conquered their career path of choice. The only thing left was figuring out how to meld it with the family life of their dreams.

Hijikata is lying face down in the pile of papers on his desk. He bolts up abruptly, looking around in bewilderment, a piece of parchment sticking to the side of his face. He stayed up all night trying to figure out what to do. How would he tell Kondo? Scratching the back of his head, he turns toward the door. “Together,” he decides. “We’d tell Kondo together.”

Remembering that you’ve often talked about how cooking relaxes you, Kojuro finds himself in the kitchen, trying to ease both of your worries in one fell swoop. The “soup” was...not entirely inedible interesting. And he certainly kept you on your toes, wondering just how many bones he forgot to pick out of the fish.

Kirisato was pulled to the side again by one of the guards. The complaints of unsatisfied customers seemed to have increased and she found it hard to focus. Throwing off his disguise at the end of his shift, Haru slips into his regular clothes and makes his way to your place. He is surprised to hear you say that he looks flustered. He thought he was handling it pretty well.

“But you came here with a face full of makeup,” you reply with a laugh.

Masamune and Keiki straight up pass right tf out. As clan heads, both face the reality that there is someone trying to poison them daily, so now they have to really be on high alert. They follow you everywhere and hire extra security.

Byron has been on autopilot since you told him. He continues on like normal, or so he thinks. He’s taken to chanting every show-tune that he’s come across that even remotely resembles a soothing mantra. The servants have caught him singing “just keep swimming, just keep swimming” under his breath. They don’t dare say a word.

Typically brazen Sid sneaks a copy of What to Expect When You’re Expecting out of the palace library and reads it diligently each night. When he sees you during the week, the two of you compare notes like you’re on a secret mission. You’ve both found an entertaining way to pass the time while you wait.

Rank: True Pacifist Route

They can sense that you’re nervous before you even open your mouth. Rather than worry about all of the what-ifs while you wait, they launch into spoiling you rotten to keep your mind busy. No use making yourself sick with worry.

Random foot rubs and massages? Hideyoshi’s on it. He’s got the right touch to keep you relaxed and happy.

“It’s not exactly the fanciest thing, but...” Alyn trails off as he sheepishly dusts off his violin. You’re amazed at how quickly he lulls you to sleep with his playing.

Your back fits snugly into Saito’s chest as you recline in his lap on the engawa. He leans back against a pillar, as the two of you take in the starry night sky, pointing out constellations here and there, feeling like the only two people in the world.

Louis and Takasugi both have the same idea. Each would clear their schedule and come to pick you up early the next morning. They were surprised, but undaunted, when you told them you might be “late.” Deciding that this was not the time to show you their flustered side, they stayed up well into the night, planning a day trip to ease your worries.

Unlike the previous two, Inuchiyo and Yamazaki sat in quiet thought after you finished speaking. Each stared down at your hands, clasped tightly in their own, their mouths a taut line of contemplation. You call their name, unsure of their response, and they look up, leveling you with a gaze of such love and devotion that you go still. Neither says anything, drawing you into a firm embrace, instead. Their hands, gently stroking your back, say everything: “Rely on me. I’m here for whatever you need.”

Every evening when you’re both free, you and Leo settle on the couch for a game of “Guess the foreign phrase.” You’re not entirely sure he’s not making some of them up, but his sense of humor keeps you laughing all the same.

You go for relaxing morning strolls along the shore with Sakamoto. Your sandals clink against each other as you hold them in your hand. Sakamoto looks over at you as you drag your feet through the sand. Suddenly, you find yourself hoisted into the air in a princess carry as he makes his way to the breakers. Splashing as he goes, you can’t help but giggle along with him. Without any words at all, you know everything is going to be all right.

Rank: Foot-in-Mouth Disease

These derps.

Nobunaga found himself on the other end of his iron war fan when he flippantly asked why you didn’t just get here sooner, then. If he weren’t absentmindedly munching away on konpeito, he would have been able to pay attention to context.

“Nobuyuki told that joke last time. Remember? With the poison needles and the...oh.” Yukimura’s voice trails off as he realizes that this is definitely not like the last time. In fact, Nobuyuki is nowhere to be found. Leading you to a secluded place, Yukimura stammers out an apology, having long since gone from rosy pink to beet red.

In retrospect, wondering aloud if pregnancy sex is as good as the rumors say, was not the brightest of Mitsuhide’s ideas, he concedes. You can hardly hear him, as he has bent himself into a bow so low that he is almost laying on the floor.

“That was the plan all along,” was definitely not what you expected to hear from Shingen, after you gathered up the courage to talk to him. He even had the nerve to look smug about it, his hearty laugh booming through the grassy field. However, you could almost map the course of his changing emotions as he gazed at your incredulous face.

Pride, uncertainty, regret.

You turn away from him in a huff, continuing to brush his mare. Gently, he stops your hand and takes it in his. “That was unnecessary. I’m really sorry.”

At Okita’s feet lie the unfortunate soldiers who have sparred with him. Against the wall, a fresh group of “sparring partners” try desperately to not make eye contact with their captain. He’s been in the training hall since you took him aside earlier and told him that you were “late.”

“Why? Did you have an appointment?” he asked with a grin, as his head tilted automatically to the side. He could tell by the way you gaped at him that there must be some other meaning to what you said, but he couldn’t figure it out on his own.

“You,” he grumbles out, brandishing his wooden sword at one of the soldiers still trying to slink away. “If someone is late, what does it mean?”

“Late, captain?”

“But not...to a place. At least, I don’t think.”

“Is this ‘someone’ a woman, sir?” When Okita nods, the soldier explains, his eyes on the floor as the tips of his ears turn red.

The practice sword he had been holding clatters to the ground as Okita bolts out of the training hall, calling your name.

#otome sitch #samurai love ballad party #midnight cinderella #destined to love

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wvlfwife-blog · 8 years ago

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lost and found,

their sunday morning vibes.

She woke up with a start-- a common occurrence as of late that left her feeling no less panic than she felt the first time dangerous words left her husband’s mouth. ( Her husband! She thought, the only light that could ever come out of perilously dark circumstances ). He whimpered and cried in his sleep, and she did not wait another second before engulfing him in her arms, splaying dainty fingers through his downy locks as she willed calmness and quiet back into his mind -- for him to be fully her’s again, for him not to be consumed by dangerous events that had such an intense hold on her nerves. But she wasn’t the soft, lilting angel she was when he first laid his hands on her at sixteen. Roseanne Park thought she is much stronger than that now, a strange coincidence that she always felt so in his company.

( perhaps he was destined to make her stronger, whilst she must stay so for his sake )

But with all the love in her heart, the strong will of her mind; she wants nothing more than to lay all of the strength she possessed just for the hope that it will all be okay. The he will be okay. That the demons that might consume him from the inside might be defeated by sheer will and might leave him happy, content, and whole -- her only wish.

Roseanne Park did not know how to not love Song Yixing with all her heart.

You’re here, she whispered, his name on her lips like a trusted prayer. You’re safe, love.

Perhaps it was the old look in his eyes, or maybe the secret smile that he held that made it all the more easier for her to continue on. In her small space, the miniscule breadth of the world that was her own -- she now shared with him, amidst piles of books and potted plants. Their love grew and bloomed like the roses he had grew in her name, the stanzas that she whispered beneath rumpled sheets. Affection and testaments of love and devotion did not fall behind, for it was behind every breath, every word; within the space between beating hearts.

It was that morning when she first referred to her husband as her husband did he answer with the most brilliant of smiles. His secret dimple not so much a secret anymore -- at least not to her -- for it became her’s as well, just as all of her became his, just how she would like to stretch the moment into the rest of eternity.

“Remember, you can’t say that in front of other people, sweetling. At least not until we tell your parents about the engagement.”

“Oh-- you mean when you tell them about our engagement?”

He stayed silent for a bit, a slight crease marring his otherwise beautifully smooth face. She had to resist the urge to run over and claim his lips -- she didn’t resist strong it enough it seems, for she had flitted over to do so before running back to make sure she didn’t burn her eggs. The small bliss was so welcomed amidst the stormy thoughts in her mind and the constant fear in her heart, the thought only caused her to grip the spatula a little tighter between pale fingers.

“You should go call.”

With a silent nod, her husband reached over for his phone and used clammy fingers to dial -- his eyes burning a little hole to the back of her head, nerves palpable in the easy Sunday morning air. She had to hold back a trail of laughter, pleased at least in the array of berating reproach that will undoubtedly be directed towards her lover; as if it’s the only ( playful ) revenge she could act upon after all the grief he had put her through.

“Marcus! Hello, good morning, how are you?”

She giggled at the obvious nerves that had cut through the peaceful air. Eyes focused on her bacon, but ears trained on the conversation happening behind her.

“Oh, just your way home from church, how marvellous.”

He cleared his throat then, and she had to remove the whistling kettle in order to hear him better.

“Well... I do hope I’m not being awfully untoward, or rather- I have to apologize for not approaching you first as per tradition-”

Rose sat herself cheerfully on the dinning table her feet dangling off the edge after she knocked a few books off of a well placed stack. A knowing smile stretching her lips.

“But I have asked your daughter to marry me, and she had said yes. I was wondering if it might be possible for us to have your blessing.”

A pause. His pupils trembled a little as they searched for her’s; a light suspension of breath in the room. She unconsciously leaned forwards in hopes of catching her father’s response.

There was a little whoop of glee, loud enough for even her to hear, accompanied by loud cheering and clapping in the background. Her mother, it seems, had been informed of the news.

“Oh! Well, thank you very much - I’d have to say that I’m very much relieved... And yes, we’re still coming for tea at five... I’m sure we have lots to talk about-”

A smug smirk, dark teasing eyes. She would’ve scoffed and slapped him on the shoulder if she didn’t find it so attractive. But with a little sigh of resignation, the now twenty-five year old blonde hopped off her dining room table and sauntered back to her cooking, only slightly disappointed at her father’s reaction to the prospect of losing his baby daughter to another man. She had to admit that she wished he had reacted somewhat stronger than he did.

The little pout slipped off her face as warm arms encircled her waist from behind, the familiar scent that was so fully him made her thoughts hazy with the frantic beating of her heart. After all these years. A low chuckle near her ear, the small kiss on her cheek, it’s difficult to hold on to annoyance when love became the reasoning to every breath.

“What? Did you expect him to hex me over the phone?”

“I thought he’d at least wonder if we were living in sin and you decided to put a baby in me before having our relationship acknowledged in front of God.”

“Darling, we were living in sin.”

She laughed a little, endlessly thankful that her parents weren’t aware of their current living situation. Her father would have an altogether different reaction if they knew, no matter how much they loved their future son-in-law.

“...Although he did mention something about ‘finally getting grandchildren’-- I don’t think he’s very happy with your sister at the moment.”

“They haven’t been for a while now. She keeps dating inexplicable men who all had the same commitment issues...”

“Well then aren’t you glad that you landed such a catch?”

Finally turning off the stove and putting her utensils down, Roseanne Park turned in her lover’s arms to place a deep kiss on his plush lips, standing in tiptoes to lean herself into his embrace. She kissed her with all the love she had, all the love she could muster -- all of her, displayed on a gilded platter for him to consume for the rest of time. Strong as she is ( all thanks to him ), she could not deny that her heart is still weak to his voice, those eyes, that secret smile ; she would not have it any other way.

“Of course I am. You’re all I ever need.”

#ww:drabble #time:post engagement #au:hp

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bripops · 2 years ago

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let’s not forget the homophobia

Ah yes, Glee, the only show to give us queer representation, queer coding, and queer bait

#inexplicable continuing devotion to glee

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bripops · 1 year ago

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WIP Whenever as tagged by literal earth angel @jtownnn but on mobile so pray 4 my formatting

“Was being his boyfriend really that much of my personality that people still don’t know what else to talk to me about? Don’t answer that, I know you don’t care.”

The note of genuine bitterness in Blaine’s voice surprised Sebastian enough that he spoke without thinking. “I care,” he said. “Like don’t get me wrong, yeah, for a hot minute you were definitely Kurt’s Boyfriend more than you were you–” Blaine scoffed “–but not anymore. And for the record, I never didn’t care, it’s why I fucking hate him so much.”

It was true, but he’d never said it to Blaine so directly. Kurt was the kind of self-centered bitch Sebastian saw a lot in small-town gays: so desperate for every drop of validation he could wring out of his first and only boyfriend that he didn’t even realize he was bleeding Blaine dry. Sebastian had known from day one that Blaine would only ever be collateral damage as Kurt clawed his way out, it was what sparked the stupid vendetta in the first place.

#‘tis the damn seblaine #otp: some snow would be nice #inexplicable continuing devotion to glee

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bripops · 1 year ago

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stealing the WIP Whenever prompt from @jtownnn but not tagging anyone lmao. RIP to me in advance for trying to do this on mobile

from my upcoming seblaine ‘tis the damn season canon-divergence AU

“Have you talked to Blaine?” “Isn’t your whole thing telling me to stay away from Blaine? The entire first year I knew you it was the only thing you’d say to me, and you basically put a protection detail on him after the breakup with Kurt so I couldn’t talk to him for like a month. I can go back to stalking him in coffee shops if you want, but I thought you were gonna go all ‘Code of Hammurabi’ on me if I bothered him.” Trent made a choked-off noise of distress and Sebastian knew the deflection had worked. Referencing the Code of Hammurabi anywhere they could reasonably shoehorn it in had been an in-joke for a handful of Warblers in the immediate aftermath of the slushee incident, their way of telling Sebastian what they thought he deserved: an eye for an eye. Vague enough to avoid the anti-bullying policy, but it didn't really matter— Sebastian had already proven that "zero tolerance" didn't mean what they'd all thought. “That’s not what I meant,” Trent insisted, sounding a little guilty. If nothing else, Trent was easy to read, exhaustingly incapable of hiding his feelings. “I just wanted to check in. According to Sam he’s been acting like a kicked puppy and he can’t get Blaine to tell him what’s wrong.” “Sam?” “Evans, from McKinley? We text sometimes.” Sebastian had clearly missed a memo somewhere, because he had no idea Trent was friends with the redneck himbo. He needed to put a stop to this now; it was bad enough for Nick to be up his ass about Blaine, Trent and Stripper Ken getting involved would only make everything worse. The problem with talking to Trent was that he was so goddamn transparent that he was harder to lie to than most people, even Nick. Trent was just so infuriatingly honest about everything that he was really good at picking up on when someone else wasn’t, and more likely to push if he thought he wasn’t getting the whole truth. Sebastian sighed, he was going to have to say just enough to shut him up. “I haven’t talked to Blaine,” (true) “so I don’t know what his deal is” (partially true, though Sebastian could probably guess) “and if I did I would have told Nick when he asked me yesterday.” (outright lie) “I don’t know why everyone keeps assuming I did something” (even bigger lie) “but genuinely, I didn’t.” (true, but likely part of the problem) “I never said you did,” Trent said carefully, clearly afraid to start throwing around accusations now that his petty little bullshit from junior year had been brought up. “Just, if you hear anything–” “I will absolutely not tell you,” Sebastian assured him, the first genuine thing he’d said so far. “This gossipy shit has got to stop, do you really not get how it keeps making everything worse?” That was true too, and shutting it down had the added benefit of no one fucking asking Sebastian about it anymore.

#‘tis the damn seblaine #otp: some snow would be nice #inexplicable continuing devotion to glee

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