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unnecessarywriting · 4 years ago

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Him? That’s My Dad - Fred Weasley

Requested: Hi! Can I get a Fred x reader where the reader is Sirius’ child and is best friends with the twins and when he first sees them they are maybe pranking snape and maybe they reunite in the shack cause they are protecting Harry and just fluff really? A/N: Thank you for requesting. First I want to apologize for the wait, but I had some personal stuff going on and I needed some time off. Also, I was a bit confused by your request, so I took it into my hands and tried to match it to the best of my ability, but if you want me to write something else (More of what you wanted) just let me know and I'll write something new! Requests are still open of course, and I hope you all enjoy!!!

ITALICS ARE FLASHBACKS

Him? That’s My Dad

Fifth year at Hogwarts meant that there was a lot of chaos, not to mention that you were dating one of the biggest pranksters in Hogwarts history. Fred had been there in your life from the beginning of your Hogwarts experience. Despite your last name and the reputation that comes with it, you were able to have a decent time with Fred and George by your side. By third year, you had become very close with the twins, and they even began to include you in their schemes. When Fred asked you out in fourth year, you began your work at becoming one of the masterminds behind some, if you dare say, epic pranks. Then, fifth year came around, and well, the chaos of OWLs ensued, and so did your more personal issues.

You had been aware of the return of your father, or rather the escape of the murderer who just so happened to share your DNA. Were you happy that he was out? Well, that question was difficult for you. On one hand, he may have murdered a whole lot of people, and he may have been involved with the dark lord, resulting in making an orphan out of Harry and you. On the other hand, he could be innocent and have a real reason for not making more of an attempt to get out of Azkaban.

Before Sirius was sent away for the murder of the muggles and Peter, your mother had died. Luckily for you, Remus was made your godfather, which gave you a home, but Remus was sure to never overstep his role. He had never wanted to imitate a father to you, but there were times in which you wished it had happened. When you found out that he would be a professor at Hogwarts, you couldn’t tell if you were happy to spend more time with him, or worried that he would become too involved in your personal business. You knew Remus found education very important, as did you, however, spending time with Fred and George was sometimes prioritized. Not to mention, Remus was not familiar with your relations to one of the twins.

You were sitting in the great hall with the twins trying to study, but you couldn’t help but overhear some of the murmurs from around the room. There was a lot more hatred pointed towards you because of the Sirius situation. It was hard to focus on too much that was meant to be actually important to you. Fred saw this, and he was right by your side to remind you of how amazing you were, and not to let the actions of your father define.

“You’re not like Malfoy. Who your father is, and what he has done is not a reflection of who you are. Now, let’s do something to get your mind off of all of those gits.” He motioned to where some other students were loudly whispering. You smiled at him and turned your attention to what George was working on.

“Who’s it for?” A simple question, but the answer would be the secret to your happiness.

“Snape.”

~ A Dog Tale ~

Sirius had his reasons for escaping Azkaban. When he visited Harry, he was in emotional turmoil. He felt terrible for being trusted by his best friend to take care of his son, and yet he failed. Then Sirius thought of you. He was never ready for a child of his own, but he was ready to give anything for your well-being. Him and your mother were not in a real relationship at the time, but he was heartbroken that she had died. He worried about his daughter and the lack of a mother figure, but he was sure that he would do everything he could to give you the life you deserved. When he was sent to Azkaban, however, he didn’t know how to react.

While he was not the one to sell out his friends, he was guilty for wrongly putting trust in someone. He spent his time repenting for making those choices. He reminded himself of his innocence, but there was a part of him that believed that he belonged there. Often, he would find himself thinking about you. He wondered what you looked like and what your personality was like. Did you take after him? Were you happy? Did you miss him? These questions lived in his head everyday, but he needed to grieve and take accountability for his crimes.

When he got out, he wanted to go and find you, but he knew you were with Remus, and he was aware that Remus was very careful. His old friend knew about Padfoot, and for certain, he was keeping a close eye for any dog that came near you. He knew that he needed to go to Hogwarts to get to the rat he once called a friend, but there was a part of him that was convinced his main reason for returning was to answer those questions that had been eating away at him.

When he first saw you, he knew exactly who he was looking at. You were the spitting image of your mother. Despite his dog form, he couldn’t help but feel a smile come on. Without thinking, he let out a bark and a whimper. He watched as your head whipped around to look at him. You stared at him with confusion written on your face, but you quickly returned to the twins that were beside you. He whimpered quietly to himself, but he refused to take his eyes off of you. You had grown up so beautifully, and from the looks of it, you were a bit mischievous yourself.

He recognized the sound of a particular person he wished that he could remove from his memory. Snape. The git himself was a professor at Hogwarts. Of course. He pointed his gaze at your sudden change in demeanor. You got down and cast a spell. One of the twins towered over you as they cast another one. The other twin seemed to be the lookout. After hexing the greasy professor, the three ran off in a direction that would allow them to watch the mayhem ensue without getting caught.

He also watched on the sidelines. He saw the obvious immediate spell cast. It was simple. A color change to the hair. He was concerned that this was the best that the three of you could do, but then he thought that there had to be more to it than what meets the average eye. He hoped that if he got to meet you, he would be able to ask you about it. Then he saw Snape’s legs start to falter, and he ultimately collapsed to the ground with an angry grunt. Sirius did everything he could to keep the laughing quiet, but it was riveting to see his old rival take such a nasty fall, especially at the hand of his daughter. His heart filled with pride knowing that she may not look like him, but she definitely took after him.

Sirius looked over at where you were hiding and watched as you hugged the twins. Then he watched you do the unthinkable.

~ What did you do? ~

When Fred and George had a plan, you liked to add a little bit of your own spice to the mix. You liked adding something that could only be thought of by you. Nothing was different with your prank with Snape. It was simple really. The twins had this new, altered version of the hair color changing spell. The plan was to make it near impossible to get rid of it. In fact, there was a particular potion that was needed to remove the effects of it, however, they weren’t planning on giving it to Snape too soon. The counter jinx would only change the color on Snape’s head. You thought it was genius, but there was a part of you that wanted a bigger reaction.

“Okay, I think that it’s great, but what if, and just hear me out, we change his feet.”

“What does that mean?” Your boyfriend looked at you intrigued by your suggestion.

“It’s easy really, there is an opposites spell that I found, and it would allow me to change his left foot to his right and his right to the left. It could be reversed, but there is a specific spell to do it, and I doubt Snape would know what it is.” George laughed at the idea of Snape trying to stand up without knowing how to fix his issue.

“This is one of the many reasons I love you,” Fred said as he placed a peck on your lips.

The three of you had learned which hallway Snape would be in, and you made your way in that direction. The three of you stood in the hallway chatting, so as not to raise any particular suspicion to your actions. You heard a bark from behind you, and you turned your head in that direction. There stood a large black dog. He looked as though he was trying to smile, but he also looked like he was punched in the head. You gazed at the dog to see if it was deranged or just a strangely happy dog. Eventually, you turned your attention back to the twins.

You heard the slow footsteps of the annoying professor, and you all got into position as you awaited with a nervous excitement. You ducked down to get a more accurate aim at his feet, and Fred towered above you where he focused his attention to the top of the greasy haired man. You both carefully cast your spells and retreated to a nearby space to watch the chaos unfold. As Snape fell, you laughed quietly. When he angrily struggled to stand up, the three of you had to move slightly to avoid bringing attention to how much you were enjoying his struggle. You hugged George, congratulating him on a good idea and a successful prank. Then you hugged Fred and pulled him in for a joyful, passionate kiss. You both pulled away and smiled at each other, while George awkwardly evaded his gaze. You felt eyes boring into you, so you turned your eyes to the culprit. The dog from before looked furious. Then, he began to run away.

“Hey, I’m gonna go for a walk, but I’ll catch up with you two later. Alright?” The twins nodded, but Fred was a bit suspicious of your sudden change in behavior. He kept his eyes on you and watched the direction you walked towards, but he kept his distance. He didn’t want to intrude on your time to yourself.

You followed the dog and watched as it ran into the Whomping Willow. You had a feeling you knew what was going on. You had often referred to Remus as Uncle Moony. When the twins showed you the map, you had a feeling that there was a connection. Cue you Sherlock skills. You thought about the other names on the map and tried to connect them to Remus’ friends.

“Uncle Moony?”

“Yes?” His gaze lifted from the Daily Prophet to your inquisitive face.

“When you were in school, did you ever feel connected to the animals there?”

“Why do you ask?” You needed to cover your ground otherwise he wasn’t going to give any information.

“Well, I know that you don’t remember the events of what happens when you change, but I just wondered if there was ever some sort of connection with the animals on the grounds. I have found that there are some friendly deer around. I’ve also seen a few rats and mice wander around the castle.” You were trying to hint to some of the hints from the map. Prongs being a deer and Wormtail being a rat. Remus chuckled at your words.

“Yes, the deer and rats can be quite kind and they can often invade your personal space. Not to mention the wild dogs. Those can be the most intrusive creatures on the grounds.” A dog. That was the last detail you needed. Padfoot. Now you just needed to figure out who was who.

In your years at Hogwarts, it was relatively rare to find a dog on the grounds. That didn’t mean that it never happened, but this dog seemed different, and you had a hunch as to what was going on. You stood far away from the tree and contemplated going into the whole that the dog ran into. If you were right, then you could easily be heading to your one way trip to the afterlife, but you wanted to protect the people you cared about at all costs. You didn’t trust the professors with this information, and Remus was no exception. Harry had become a friend to you over the years, and if the disgusting rumors held true, this could be your chance to help him. Afterall, this was your father who was trying to kill Harry. The least you could do is fight this man and prove that you were capable of not being like him.

You ran by the swinging branches and launched yourself into the whole. You found yourself in what appeared to be the shrieking shack. The floorboards creaked all around you. You pulled the wand out from your pocket and pointed in the direction you were walking. Eventually, you found yourself face to face with the dog.

“You know, I had a feeling you were the dog. Remus never admitted to anything, but something about all that he told me about you just reminded me of a dog. You don’t have to stay in that ridiculous form since I know it’s you.” You were surprised by your own confidence, but twelve years of anger can spark a lot. Suddenly, you were met with the man you thought you would never see again. You raised the wand up to his face, and locked your jaw in anger.

“You look just like your mother Y/N. I know you think I’m a murderer, but that’s not the case. I’m innocent. Why don’t you lower your wand and we can talk this through.” He spoke carefully and clearly so as not to push you to hex him into another life.

“I don’t know why you came here, but I’m not going to let you hurt Harry, and I sure as hell am not going to let my guard down. You escaped from Azkaban for murder. Did you really think that I was going to believe you? Honestly, you must really be an idiot. Even if you are innocent, you let Harry and I live without you. You were supposed to be there for us.” You yelled the last line with an anger you didn’t know you had. “You were supposed to be there for me.” Your voice was low and full of pain. Sirius felt everything you said to him.

“I know, but allow me to explain.” You kept your wand in place as Sirius told his story. He explained how he was framed by Peter, and his reasoning for returning to Hogwarts. “You’re right. I should've done more to be there for you, but I can’t change the past. I sure as hell am never going to forgive myself for allowing you to grow up without me. I’m here now though. I know that I cannot make up the lost time, but I can try like hell to be there for you now. I have no right to ask for anything but I beg you to give me a chance to be in your life.”

You lowered your wand and sat down on the nearest surface. Sirius sighed at the removal of the threat. He stayed silent as he watched you think about everything he said. He knew it was a lot for you to handle. It was a lot for anyone to handle. Neither of you were aware of how long you both sat there, but when you heard a distant creak and the familiar call of your name, you both launched into action. Sirius transformed into Padfoot.

“Y/N? Are you in here?” Fred appeared in the doorway and sighed at the sight of you. “George, she’s in here. Darling, what are you doing here? We've been looking for you for hours. You had us both worried.” He pulled you into a tight embrace and kissed the top of your head. You breathed in his scent and smiled. Maybe having your dad in your life wouldn’t be so terrible. You thought about Fred and your future together often. You thought about what it may be like to have someone that you could call your dad be there to watch you achieve all of the milestones in your life, and be there for any future children you may have. You thought about how happy Fred and George were with their family, and how jealous you were of their parents.

“Were you just here with a dog all of this time?” George asked as he walked into the room. Fred moved his gaze to the big, black dog in the room. You giggle quietly.

“Oh him? That’s my dad.” You smiled and sat next to the dog and gave him a reassuring look. “And judging by the way he’s looking at you Fred, he doesn’t seem too happy that his only daughter is dating someone.” Padfoot offered a small growl at your boyfriend who was both confused and slightly scared.

“Y/N. I think you might be losing it.” George muttered. You laughed and motioned for Sirius to regain his human form. The look of fear and shock on the twins’ faces were priceless.

“Mr. Weasley I presume.” Sirius held out his hand. Apparently the Weasley hair was something that exceeded generation. Fred reached out his hand to meet your dad’s and he muttered his response. “I understand that you are dating my daughter. I will allow this, however, after I am proven innocent, and we can have a word alone, I think we should get to know one another. Thoroughly.” You watched the interaction with joy. You knew that sirius was pranking Fred, although there was a bit of seriousness in his tone as well.

“Boys, I assume that I don’t need to tell you that the knowledge of Sirius should remain a secret. I will also say that he is of no threat to any of us, so there is no need to worry.” You grabbed Fred’s hand and gave him a reassuring squeeze. “I think that you two should return to the school. I’m going to stay here a bit longer, but I am perfectly fine.” You kissed Fred’s cheek and gave a side hug to George as they wandered out of the shack. They weren’t happy that you were left alone with someone who was notorious for mass murder, but they understood that you wouldn’t put everyone in danger.

“So, you’ve taken to pranking old Snivellus eh?” You laughed and nodded. You wouldn’t have expected your day to go from terrible to one with an amazing boyfriend, and a supportive dad, but fate works in mysterious ways.

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #george weasley imagine #george weasley x reader #fred weasley #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #Harry potter x reader #harry potter imagine

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racheloveyunho · 4 years ago

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Till death do us part - 4

Y/N grew up in a wealthy family, she always was seen as a beautiful and smart kid and was most likely to take her father’s place as the CEO of one of the most important companies in South Korea. However, after the death of her mother, Y/N’s family slowly started to break apart. Her father was always working to forget his uncalled pain while his kids were left alone at home.

She was 17 years old when her life took a sudden turn when she met him in a dark alley. He was a bloody mess, bruises everywhere but behind blood and dirt, she could see his beautiful features and his addictive gaze. Maybe she should have walked away, maybe she shouldn’t have helped him, but the moment his gaze locked with hers, she was already his.

Choi San was his name.

Genre: Mafia AU, smut, angst, fluff, stranger to lovers

Words: 1883

TW series: Y/N is described as an OC. Please be aware that this story will contain a lot of triggering content such as smut, blood, death, murder, drug, kidnapping, etc. Do not read if you are under a legal age!

TW chapter: Obsessive behavior (from Y/N’s and San’s side), threats, swearing and a hint of jealousy.

Here it was, the silhouette I liked the most

"San..."

He hugged me tightly as if there was no tomorrow. I noticed how he was sweaty and out of breathe, probably from running to get to me faster.

I breathed in his unique scent, it was woody scent, something fresh but still manly. I felt safer with him, everything was easier when he was by my side. I didn't want to let him go and my feelings seemed mutual as he tightened his grip on my waist.

I was like a piece of metal attracted to a magnet.

We sat down on the bed and he let me cry my heart out, listening every word I had to say. I told him my story, my conflictual relationship with my father, how harsh he was with me and my brother since my mom passed away and my arranged wedding with this Hwang Jinyoung.

We talked for two good hours about my problems but also about the future we both wanted.

As time went on, I started to feel sleepy, my eyelids were heavy and my mind was cloudy. I slowly closed my eyes until I fell into a deep sleep into San's arms. He gently patted my head to help me fall asleep.

"Don't worry Y/N, I will protect you from now on."

San hummed a song before falling asleep by Y/N’s side.

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Chapter 4

I woke up in the same room I felt asleep on. The unusual walls made my heart ache at the thought of what had happened between my father and I. I knew deep inside me that there will be no turning back with my relationship with him but strangely enough, i didn't feel bad about it, I was more concerned about my brother than anything.

"Did you sleep well?"

I looked up and was greeted by this angelical face of his. San was laying on the same bed as me, one of his muscular arm holding my frame tightly. I smiled back and hide my face on his chest, smelling his addictive scent at the same time.

"I did."

It was a weird feeling. I knew almost nothing of San, I met him three times and still... I felt as if I could give him my whole body and soul. I couldn't help but think about what my mom told me when I was still a child.

"Someday you will find someone you can rely on, someone who doesn't need words to know how you feel, someone who understand and cherish you as the most precious thing in the world. You will find this person one day Y/N, I'm sure of it."

My lips came upward in a smile as I remembered my mom's word, they had a new meaning to me since I met San.

His grip tightened a little around me while his other hand was busy, gently petting my hair.

"You are acting like a boyfriend"

"Do you like it?"

"Very much" I smiled, looking fondly at him and before I knew it, San leaned on and kissed me slightly.

His lips felt like feather, there was nothing but sweetness and love in this kiss, his right hand cupped my cheek and rubbed his thumb against the soft skin.

When our lips finally moved apart, I looked up to meet his - oh so lovely - gaze.

"You are so beautiful"

"Say the man whom is beauty itself" I giggled softly.

This moment was almost perfect - almost.

My mind was quick to remember about the bitterness of the situation I was in. I looked down sadly, avoiding San's intrigued eyes.

A lot of questions were running on my mind. What will happen from now on? I was still minor and my dad was stubborn, he would never let me escape from his grasp so easily. How will I survive? I didn't even had enough money to stay on this hotel for more than a week.

Unconsciously, I sighed heavily. San took my chin between his thumb and his index and lift my face towards his.

"What is it?" San asked me in a whisper.

"Did you bring your phone with you? I have to call Hana, she must be worried."

After a few seconds, he nodded and gave me his phone. I entered the familiar number and quickly enough, Hana's voice was heard through the phone.

"Y/N!! Is everything okay? I was worried sick! I thought you were coming early in the morning?" Her voice cracked at the end of her sentence. I frowned my eyebrows. She was whispering yelling and it was odd since she was always a loud girl.

"Sorry, I didn't wake up. Why are you this quiet?" I suspiciously asked.

"Y/N, I don't think you should come here, your father was there one hour ago and he was beyond furious! He threatened me and my family, saying that he will ruin our lives if he find out we are hiding you from him!" She cried out.

This sentence came before a long and heavy silence where no one dared to talk. My mind was processing this new information while my heart was scolding me for bringing my best friend and her family into a delicate situation.

San was quietly listening to our conversation, his right hand on top of mine while his thumb was gently rubbing the back of my hand..

"I'm so sorry Hana... I didn't mean to bring you into this mess..." I lowered my voice, guilt eating me alive.

"Hey sweety... It's okay. You didn't do anything wrong but... I don't think this is a good idea to go against your father will. He is really scary."

"Are you telling me to came back home and let my father do everything he wants with me?" My throat felt suddenly dry and my heart heavy in my chest.

No answer.

I knew she was just afraid of what could possibly happen to her and her family, she just wanted to protect her loved ones. However, I couldn't help but feel betrayed. She knew how my father was and how hard it was for me to handle this situation.

"I see. Don't worry for me, I'm gonna find a way." I finally stated with the coldest voice I could muster. I didn't let her the time to give an answer and hung up right away.

I stayed silent for a while and so did San.

After what seemed like an eternity, I finally looked up at him and sighed with a small smile "Thank you for what you did to me. I owe you one"

"Why are you talking as if you are going somewhere?" he arched his eyebrows before leaning close to me with his signature smirk of his "I'm not planning to let you go away from me, love."

I gasped in surprise "L-love?" I asked stuttering, embarrassed by this sudden pet name.

"Why are you embarrassed about? We just kissed a few minutes ago"

I avoided his gaze and coughed slightly to get rid of the awkwardness "I can't stay here San... You will be in trouble if my dad find out you helped me and I don't want it to happen."

This time, it was San's turn to sight.

"Y/N. Listen to me. I will let you two choices" I frowned but stayed silent to let him continue "You don't know who I am but I can help you. However I won't take you with me if you don't want to. It's up to you. Do you want to stay with me, where I'll promise to keep you safe by my side, or do you want to go back and be toyed your entire life by your father against your own will?"

Silence again.

His face was serious and his voice demanding, It actually made me think I couldn't choose the latter choice - not that I wanted to choose this option anyway.

"Why are you doing this.. I mean, we don't know much about each other and-"

"Kim Y/N, born in Seoul the 25th September 1999 at 3:48. You like horror movies and all kind of sweets, your mother passed away the 4th June and since then, your father had changed completely, leaving you and your brother behind" San said, never breaking visual contact with me "You are the student with the best grades on your class and you are the teacher's favorite and even though you want to attend the prestigious Seoul national college, you don't know what to do in your life yet"

I was astonished, how did he get all his information?

As if on cue, he slipped a hand in my hair "It's been two years now Y/N, no one know you as much as I do. I know every single details about you but now, I don't want to look at your life from far away, I want to be apart of it" He smiled but frowned as I slowly stepped away from him "were you stalking me all this time?" I asked, heart beating fast.

"Come on, I know you are as obsessed over me as I am over you" He laughed before standing up and quickly doing his hair while looking his own reflect on the mirror “I was there every time you talked to your friend about me”

I watched his every move and couldn’t find anything to say. No matter how crazy it sounded, I knew he was right.

"And how are you gonna help me?"

"Your dad isn't all white, quite the contrary" He said "I know enough to tell him to let you be" He added.

"Are you going to... threaten him?" I looked at him through the mirror.

"Why? You don't want me to?" He smiled at me, his back still facing me.

I took a deep breathe.

"No... He deserves it"

He turned around and came closer to me with the widest smirk.

"So... Are you coming with me?"

I watched as the landscape kept changing from outside the window. The spacious car was moving in slow pace in a part of Seoul I never went in.

I knew it was the beginning of something new but everything seemed so unreal, the only thing that kept me back to reality was the warmth of San's hand intertwining with mine.

I quickly take a glance at the driver, his sharp nose and strong eyes made him look cold, a perfect contrast with his tanned skin. I was surprised by how young he was, probably not much older than San and I and obviously both of them were getting along with each other.

I was so focus on looking at the man and wondering who he was to San that I didn't took notice of my staring until I felt San squeezing my hand.

"Y/N...I'm not sure of how I feel about you looking at another man" He pouted cutely to grab my attention back to him. I laughed lowly and gave him a apologetic look "I'm not sure how I feel about you being jaleous while we are not in an official relationship yet" I smirked at him.

"The kiss wasn't official enough for you?" He smirked back "should I give you an other one then? " He asked, his face coming closer to mine.

His lips ghosted over mine but we were interrupted by a loud cough before we could properly touch each other.

"Please San, can you keep your hands for yourself until you both are alone? I don't especially want to see you guys kiss in the back seat of my car" The driver said in a rather annoyed tone.

"Look who is talking" San scoffed "Should I remind you how many times you made out with your girlfriend in front of me?"

The older man let out a dry laugh, his eyes still on the road.

After a few minutes of a comfortable silencex the driver looked at me from the front mirror.

"Your name is Y/N, right?"

"Yes... And you are..?"

"I'm Seonghwa. Park Seonghwa" He said "I'm glad to meet you, San wouldn't shut up and talk about you every fucking day" He laughed, earning another loud scoff from San.

"Watch your mouth, you are older but I'm still the boss here" San growled.

Suddenly, the car stopped abruptly.

"We safely came back to your home sir~" Seonghwa politely stated, not without a hint of teasing in his voice.

San pulled me out of the car, hand still holding mine firmly. I followed him and looked up at the huge mansion in front of us.

My mouth fell agape, this place was way bigger than mine.

"Welcome to your new house" San smiled.

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We are finally starting to introduce the others members!

Also this chapter is a bit shorter, I didn’t even noticed until I checked the number of words but I thought it was better this way, there was nothing to add since the next chapter was already done lol.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it!

See you next time~

Tag list:

@hijirikaww @pinkchampagne2 @xduygu-arsx @joongiebug @leicy0756

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fandomficsnstuff · 4 years ago

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Healer - Part 10

Ivar x Modern!Reader

(Warnings: (Y/H/T) is Your Hometown, also Ivar is being a concerned drama queen)

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You watched Rollo with intrigue, eyes slightly narrowed as you watched him, Ivar’s hand on your thigh, as it usually was, while they were talking. The older man glanced at you finally after stating his one condition for helping, that Björn was spared, his eyes taking in every detail of you before looking back at Ivar “who is this?” he asked, gesturing to you and Ivar smirked pridefully, straightening his posture and looking at you with so much love and adoration “my wife. She and I will marry when we have taken back Kattegat” Ivar informed, looking back at Rollo who nodded, giving you a polite smile “welcome to the family, may I ask where you are from?” he asked and without thinking you answered “I was born in (Y/H/T) but I lived in Chicago for a while before I got here” you said, only realising afterwards that he had no idea about anything, where you were from, how you got here, which you honestly wasn’t quite clear on either, and how long you had been here. Rollo looked at you confused and you cleared your throat “it’s, uh… complicated” you added, Rollo nodding hesitantly before looking back to Ivar.

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You frowned as you stared at your food, Hilda noticing and kneeling down by your side on the tree stump. You were back where you were not that long ago, only it was a different location, the same people protecting you. Ivar had predicted the length of this battle to be longer than before, therefore making sure you had water and food with you so you wouldn’t grow hungry or thirsty, the thought sweet and heartwarming but right now you just felt sick. You hated when Ivar went on without you, even when he sailed to England with his father for the first time, you hated how he was away from you even then. You hated being left behind for every battle, when they took York, when they first battled Lagertha, and now again. You felt as though the food in front of you was unappetizing, even though it was far from it, the water in the leather sac having no appealing qualities either. Hilda sighed and sat on the ground beside you, watching you for a bit longer as you battled internally, trying to force yourself to eat it as you felt your stomach growl. Eventually you ended up putting it back in the small bag you had with you, Hilda sighing at the act “you do not like the food?” she asked and you shrugged “I do but-... I don’t know… I don’t like how Ivar is in danger, out fighting while I just sit here” you admitted, Hilda giving you a soft smile in sympathy, gently rubbing your upper arm in an attempt to comfort you.

You picked up the leather sac that had water in it, debating if you should try, Hilda giving you a reassuring nod, making you try and take a sip of the water. You forced it down, not feeling any of the sickness fading, quite the opposite, actually. You frowned, handing the water hurriedly to Hilda, accidentally spilling some on her before you turned away, your knees hitting the wet ground as you emptied your stomach into the ground, Hilda holding your hair back with a worried frown as you threw up, gently rubbing your back in comfort. You winced at the taste left in your mouth, Hilda helping you to sit on the stump again, handing you the water to try and clear the taste from your mouth. You noticed how worried she looked and once you had cleared your throat with water you spat it out to the side, groaning at the remaining taste in your mouth “I’m okay. Just nervous, I think” you said, Hilda nodding with a suspicious look in her eyes.

You could still hear the battle sounds, swords hitting swords, screams and yelling, it made you feel as though you were going to throw up again.

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You nervously bounced your leg as the sounds of battle had faded, your hand mindlessly rubbing the tattoo on your wrist nervously, sort of wishing it was one of those bracelets where if you touch it, the other person with the same bracelet feels it vibrate, letting them know that you are thinking of them. You heard horse hooves and shouts, followed by clear sounds of wheels, your eyes wide as you got up, Hilda by your side as Ivar came into view on his chariot. Without thinking you ran to him, getting up in the chariot and hugging him, ignoring the blood that covered him as one of his arms wrapped around you, holding you tightly against him for as long as you needed. You parted from him and kissed him, ignoring the copper you tasted on his lips, you knew it wasn’t his, he wasn’t hurt. You parted from the kiss, kissing his sweat covered cheek that had small splatters of blood on them, hugging him tightly again “you’re okay” you whispered, mostly to yourself, Ivar giving a small nod in affirmation, about to say something when his eyes caught the worried eyes of Hilda. Hilda gestured to your vomit on the forest ground while you were still hugging him, causing Ivar to frown worried, fear instantly taking hold of him, were you sick?

“Let’s go home” you said with a big smile, Ivar nodding as he forced a confident smirk, but he continued to think about how tired you looked, what if you were sick? No, you were a healer, you’d know it if you were… right? Ivar didn’t have any more time to think of it as you sat down on the floor of the chariot, smiling up at him and leaning your head back, eyes closing as Ivar drove towards Kattegat with you by his side.

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You smiled as you got out of the chariot, watching Ivar smirk at you, sitting still, just watching you, until Hvitserk approached, holding a woman by her arm. She looked disheveled and paranoid, her eyes all over, scanning everyone but Ivar and Hvitserk. You frowned and glanced at Ivar who seemed to tense at her presence, anger clear in his eyes as you approached him, standing by the front of the chariot and reaching up, gently touching his arm, bringing him back to reality, to you, his gaze softening as he looked at you. You gave him a soft smile “who is she?” you asked quietly, Ivar’s gaze glancing to the woman and then back at you, jaw clenched “Margrethe” he said through gritted teeth and instantly your smile faded, your eyes going back to the woman Hvitserk were still holding onto. You bit your lower lip in thought and walked over to Hvitserk “I’d like to talk to her, bring her to the Great Hall?” you asked, Hvitserk nodding “I’ll be there soon” you called after Hvitserk and walked back to Ivar with a sweet smile, Ivar looking at you confused. You smiled softly when you noticed his confusion “I want to know why any woman would be as cruel as she was to you” you explained. Ivar had told you more of Margrethe, how she was the one who told Sigurd and his brothers he couldn’t have sex. How she humiliated him after he was so vulnerable in front of her, it made you furious that a person could be so cruel.

You walked into the Great Hall, nodding at Hvitserk who left you alone with Margrethe, her eyes downcast as she nervously looked around, she seemed sort of twitchy, disoriented, even. You frowned at her “hello, Margrethe” you said, her eyes nervously glancing at you but never making it all the way to your face “y-you’re the one with Ivar” she said and you nodded “yes, we’re going to get married” you explained, Margrethe laughing “why? He cannot please a woman, he is not a real man” she said and you glared at her, jaw clenched as you took a step closer to her “Margrethe… I am a healer, I took an oath to do no harm, to help people, with that being said…” you said and grabbed her by the hair, bringing her closer to you “don’t talk of my husband that way” you warned, Margrethe being scared but forced it away, being as dumb as to taunt you further “he is mad! He tried to kill me!” she snapped with a grin, making you scoff “be glad I won’t” you growled, letting go of her, pushing her away from you with such force that made her fall to the ground with a yelp “if I ever hear you talking of Ivar that way, ever again, I will break my oath for him” you warned, looking up and finding Ivar at the edge of the hall, standing in the doorway with a shocked Hvitserk, but Ivar, Ivar smirked proudly, limping closer, not even sparing Margrethe a glance on his way to you. Ivar’s hand went around your waist as he reached you, pulling you against him and kissing you with a passion that made you moan into his mouth, Ivar’s hand reaching down and giving your ass a firm squeeze before parting from you, smiling softly, lovingly at you before glaring at Margrethe, his mood changing so quickly you’d think he was pregnant and having mood swings due to hormones.

Margrethe crawled slightly back under Ivar’s heavy gaze, clearly scared of him and you scoffed at her, looking back at Ivar “come on, she is not worth it” you whispered, Ivar smirking at you and limping towards the bedroom meant for the rulers, you hot on his heels with a giggle as Ivar held your hand. You cast one last glance over your shoulder at Margrethe as Hvitserk pulled her up by her arm again, dragging her out of the hall with an annoyed expression as she tried to literally seduce him on their way out. You smiled softly at Ivar as he held the door for you, you bowed your head at him with a grin “why thank you, my king” you teased, Ivar scoffing and smirked at you “you’re welcome, my queen” he teased back, earning a quiet laugh from you. Ivar watched you as you looked around, his playful demeanor turning worried and concerned, a frown on his brow as he watched you, it was only when you turned and saw his worried look that you yourself frowned “what is it?” you asked, Ivar limping closer to you, cupping your face in one of his hands, feeling you lean into his touch, making him almost groan out of satisfaction, but his worry for you by far won over his desires. “Are you sick?” he asked flat out, seeing you tilt your head confused at him, prompting him to sigh and look away, eyes downcast before looking back at you “I saw that you had been sick… are you hurt? Are you sick?” he asked frantically and you sighed “no, Ivar. I-... think I was just worried about you, that’s all” you said, trying to make him worry less but he just kept on frowning, his eyes studying you for a few seconds before he grabbed your hand and turned to walk out of the room “we will go to the healer” he said as he pulled you along, not that you resisted to begin with.

“What- Ivar I am a healer” you pointed out and Ivar shrugged “I do not care, we will go to a healer” he declared casually, continuing to drag you along to one of the healers, Katria, who had sailed back with Ubbe when he sailed off while you were taken captive in England. “Ivar, I am not dying” you once again tried to convince him you were fine, though you might as well try to convince a brick wall it can grow wings and fly. Ivar scoffed “how do you know, hm? What about one of those sicknesses you once told me of, cancer? A silent killer, you had called it” he said and you instantly regretted every medical information you had ever told him, your eyes nearly rolling out of your head as Ivar led you to his chariot, driving off the second you held on to him “Ivar, I am just fine” you tried once again, Ivar just straight up ignoring you at this point “Ivar, I am not coughing up blood or-” Ivar just shook his head “maybe not yet” he cut you off, making you groan “it is not cancer, I am not coughing up blood, there’s no blood when I... relieve myself, no lumps in my breasts or any growth that wasn’t there before. I do not feel any pain, except a headache but that is because of this” you tried to reason with him, hearing him sigh annoyed “what if it is something else, hm? What if it is something you ate?” he asked and you sighed “then I know what to do, and it is not something I ate” you tried once again but fuck it, you were already at the cabin at the outskirts of Kattegat. You sighed tiredly as you got off of the chariot, watching Ivar get off as well and limp towards the cabin, fully expecting you to follow, which you of course did.

As you walked inside you sighed again, Ivar glaring at you before turning to a surprised Katria “healer, my wife is dying” he said and you rolled your eyes “I am not dying” you retorded, Ivar scoffing and glaring at you again before looking at a very confused Katria “well, heal her!” he ordered and gestured to you as if Katria was the slowest person in the world and he was in a hurry, poor woman probably just wanted some peace and quiet, and then along comes the biggest drama queen of all, Ivar the Boneless himself. You rolled your eyes again and walked up to Katria “I am definitely not dying” you stated again, glancing at Ivar as you said it before letting Katria lead you to a room to examine you, Ivar following behind, not getting the hint that he should probably stay outside “stay here, Ivar, I will be back shortly” you said with a soft smile and Ivar, puppy eyed and everything, cautiously nodded and sat down on a chair, anxiously watching you disappear behind a wall.

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Tags:

@not-another-viking-fanfic-blog

#Ivar x Reader #Ivar x Modern!Reader #Vikings fic #Healer fics

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alwaysmychoices · 4 years ago

Text

Ski Resort

Synopsis: After declaring her intention to leave medicine forever, Charlie must join the Diagnostics Team for one more case before Ethan will let her retire. But once they’re trapped in the ski resort, Charlie gets tangled in the mystery, and she begins to wonder if she should really leave medicine or if it’s time to come back.

Chapter 26 of the “with and without” series

Previous Series: “a weekend with dr. ramsey”

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x MC (Charlotte “Charlie” Greene)

Words: 5.5k (sorry, I tried so hard to cut it down)

Rating: Teen

Also available on AO3 & Wattpad (link in Masterlist)

The drive to the ski resort was uncomfortably quiet. Ethan and Charlie didn't speak a word, not even when Baz tried to play car games or entertain the captive group with stories.

No, Ethan and Charlie weren't going to speak – or rather, Ethan wasn't going to speak until Charlie did, and Charlie wasn't going to say a thing.

The fight in Ethan's office had cooled to begrudging acceptance. Despite her objections, Charlie put on her coat, read the patient information, and piled in the car with the rest of the diagnostics team just as Ethan insisted. But her cooperation extended only that far.

Ethan was sure that she was furious in the back seat – so sure that he kept looking back to her in the rearview to see if her expression had soured any further.

But Ethan wasn't right about everything.

Charlie wasn't angry – or if she was, it was secondarily not primarily.

She was anxious.

Anxious to be back at work and interacting with critical patients when her confidence in herself and her skills had never been lower. Anxious to stand on the precipice of her entire future – for if she failed today, she wouldn't be a doctor, and if she didn't, she'd have to face fears buried deep in her soul.

It wasn't that she held her tongue because she would have hurled insults otherwise. She held her tongue because she simply couldn't bear to say anything at all.

June and Baz sensed the discomfort, though they were kind enough to not comment on it. Baz tried his best to lessen the uneasiness with music and diverting conversion, none of which stuck. June was more intrigued, maybe even suspicious.

They'd both been surprised when Charlie joined the expedition after her long absence, but Baz was much more willing to accept the sudden return and be thankful for it. June couldn't shake her curiosity.

After all, why had Charlie suddenly returned from leave for this one case? Why was the relationship between Charlie and Ethan, which had once been friendly, now so tense?

Being scrutinized only made Charlie feel worse.

It was a relief for all parties when they arrived at the ski resort.

Any other day, Charlie would have stopped and marveled at the sight.

Perfect, white snow coated the landscape and the resort. Smoke billowed from the central fireplace, promising warmth and comfort inside. Snow-capped trees climbed Mount Dagger and dotted the landscape. Even with layers and layers of footprints marring the snow and a large resort looming in the background, this place felt serene and untouched somehow.

It was so different from the heat and sunshine Charlie had grown up with.

Part of her wished she could have leaned into Ethan and marveled at the place, letting him tease her for her unfamiliarity and inexperience with snow. She realized that winter had only been pain and survival for them. She had the urge to change that somehow – to throw a snowball or challenge him to make snow angels.

But instead, Charlie just trudged along, keeping the urges to herself and remaining silent.

The owner, Rodney, was a friend of Ethan's. He greeted them all warmly and thanked them for their time. On the way to the patient's room, he offered charming anecdotes about Ethan's childhood and their friendship. Charlie wished she could have engaged more, but it was all becoming too real. In mere moments, she would be a working doctor again – a dream that had become a nightmare.

Paula and her son, Timothy, waited in their hotel room.

In the end, they weren't nearly as frightening as Charlie had imagined them. The entire drive, she morphed her patient experience into that of death and destruction, and she'd forgotten how mundane interactions could really be. Even Paula's defiance and complaints felt tame in the face of all Charlie had been through.

During the initial interview, Charlie didn't resume the active role she'd once had on the team. Instead, it was Ethan who drove the questioning, with June acting as his secondary. The team had found their new rhythm in her absence, and they seemed to know that Charlie was purposefully not stepping into her old shoes.

Ethan was disappointed.

To an outsider, she would have looked like a student rather than a member of the team. She stood in the back of the group, her mouth closed and ideas kept to herself. It could have read as disinterest, though Ethan highly doubted Charlie could confront a mystery and not be enthralled. No, it must have been something else. Anger maybe. Perhaps she wasn't ready, just as she'd warned him in the hospital.

During the interview, Ethan managed to look back at Charlie and examine her without anyone noticing.

And what he found prompted a sigh of relief.

She wasn't disinterested.

Charlie's eyes were bright and alive with curiosity. She was listening attentively, her expression changing slightly with each new piece of information. She must be cataloging it, saving it, and allowing it to simmer until it attached to a theory. Even if she wasn't speaking, she was here. She was part of the team, part of the future solution. He could see it in her now– the passion and empathy he'd recognized in her so early in her intern year.

He found himself hoping it would be enough to make her stay.

Enough to make her realize she wanted to stay.

It distracted him from the interview.

Not that he was missing much anyway. Paula, the patient, was particularly uncooperative. It took considerable prodding – and her son’s insistence – to get Paula to say anything at all.

But Ethan’s attention quickly returned when Paula's behavior suddenly shifted.

June and Baz talking to each other, quietly exposing the confusion amongst the team about Paula's bizarre symptoms. Nothing about the conversation was particularly unusual, but to a distrustful woman like Paula, it was enough to prove incompetence on the team's part.

With an eerie light in her eyes, Paula interrupted to say, "It sounds like you have no idea what you're talking about."

She said it with such airy mirth that the comment was unsettling.

Then, to the horror of everyone in the room, the formerly austere Paula's face split into a wild, frenzied laugh. Her posture had changed – so had her facial expressions. Ethan took a step closer and realized that the disturbing glimmer in her eyes was the dark of her pupil as it dilated.

The team looked at each other in horror and shock.

"Paula, are you feeling alright?" Charlie asked. These were the first unprompted words she'd spoken since the introductions.

"I feel great! Why the hell wouldn't I? I'm stuck on a mountain with a load of incompetent doctors!" Paula's voice dissolved into laughter. It was too loud. Too open. Too long.

The diagnostics team looked to each other, and in a silent consensus, they followed Ethan's lead to the hallway. Once the door closed behind them, they abandoned their polite, neutral expressions to show their true concern.

"It looks like a manic episode. If her brain trauma is extensive enough to cause that…." Ethan trailed off, only for Charlie to finish.

"We need to get her to a hospital as soon as possible. Can we call for a helicopter?"

“Doubtful,” Baz frowned, “During the interview, the storm was upgraded to a blizzard. We wouldn’t have time for a helicopter, and the roads are already being shut down.”

“But we just got here!” Charlie fought it, not that she was sure why she did. The entire drive up, the snow had gotten progressively worse. Even from inside Paula’s room, she could tell the weather was turning.

“Then we’re stuck here,” June announced, ignoring Charlie’s outburst, “We’ll have to monitor Paula all night in case her condition worsens.”

Charlie frowned.

This was not how she wanted her first case back to go.

The patient showed unusual symptoms and potential mania, all while they were trapped in a ski resort by a blizzard? This had death and destruction written all over it.

Had Ethan taken the time to consider it, he would have reached the same dim conclusion.

But fortunately for him, he was more distracted by managing the crisis. With little time before the snow made movement impossible to leave the lodge, Ethan decided to find the source of Paula’s rash on the mountain. Charlie objected on safety grounds, but Ethan went out anyway. In his absence, the team conducted a few tests and settled the room arrangements with Rodney. Ethan returned safely, just a bit cold and damp from the snow, and with the cause of the rash. It was poison sumac, he announced. Unrelated to the other symptoms, unfortunately, but at least they could rule other things out.

Only moments later, the blizzard captured the resort captured the resort and trapped the occupants inside.

To his surprise, Charlie wasn’t impressed by his discovery or his quick return. She was annoyed he’d gone out in the first place. And he suspected she was irritated to be here at all.

He wondered if he was pushing her too far, if his plan to show her the best parts of their job had been flawed. If he had been flawed.

If he was doing more harm than good.

Then June pulled out the hotel keys to present them to everyone.

There were four.

The extra room key stung.

It shouldn’t have.

Of course, they couldn’t stay in the same room on a work trip. He shouldn’t have expected anything different.

But something about it made him feel… distant from her.

Like he’d created a wall between them in this whole endeavor, a wall made physical by the separate rooms. Though he’d done it thousands of nights before, Ethan suddenly couldn’t imagine sleeping without her, her body warm beside him and her fragrant curls straying to his side of the bed. He wanted her to forgive him, though he wasn’t sure what for.

In an ideal world, they would have talked about it.

He would have checked on her.

But instead, in a whirlwind of arrangements and discussions, Ethan began his shift, and Charlie followed Baz and June to find their rooms.

Charlie hadn’t planned on staying, so she had nothing to unpack except for a phone charger from her purse and a laptop borrowed from Edenbrook. She didn’t relish the idea of sleeping in her bulky jeans or shivering in the cold night, but there was nothing she could do about that in a blizzard.

It was a relief to warm herself in a hot shower, but after, the room felt too lonely. Unsure what to do with herself, she searched for Baz and June. She found them both at the bar, which fortunately hadn’t been affected by the outside storm.

They sat by the fire with medical journals and drinks – and smores, in Baz’s case. When Charlie entered, they gave her their full attention.

They were genuinely happy to see her return.

They still believed in her, it seemed.

Not that she should be surprised, she reminded herself.

But she was a little.

She’d forgotten how it felt to be the prodigy, not the shattered impersonation of one.

Baz couldn’t contain his excitement and even went as far as to buy her bourbon in celebration, “I’m so happy you’re back! We’ve missed you, Charlie. It hasn’t been the same without you.”

“He tells the truth,” June confirmed, looking a little amused with her colleague’s enthusiasm.

Charlie didn’t know what to say, so she blushed and let Baz fill in the silence – not that he noticed. He had lots to say.

“To our star resident! You’ve been through hell and back, and we’re so proud of how far you’ve come. For you to have survived that and stand here ready to be a doctor again is brave, Charlie,” Baz emphasized in his toast, oblivious to the fact he was only making Charlie more nervous.

Charlie weakly raised her glass, tapping it against June’s and Baz’s.

June’s eyes settled on Charlie’s unsteady smile.

Which only made Charlie more unsteady.

“I can’t believe you’re really back and that Ethan didn’t even give us a warning! For weeks, he said you needed more time, and then, he surprised us. You two were probably in on it together,” Baz laughed good-naturedly, “So, are you back permanently now?”

I have no idea, she thought.

She didn’t know if she’d make it through this case, let alone if she’d take on another.

Her future was too uncertain, her confidence too shaken to answer.

“Um,” Charlie stammered, looking for an answer that didn’t expose her as a nervous wreck, “We’ll see how it works out with my remaining leave, I guess,” she answered noncommittally.

It was the wrong answer.

Too uncommitted. Not enough enthusiasm. Recognizable nerves.

It exposed something that Charlie wanted to hide. It showed how little she controlled this situation, how little she controlled everything. She didn’t know what would happen or what she wanted to happen. It was such a stark contrast from the determined, headstrong intern she’d once been.

If Baz noticed, he took it in stride and said he hoped she would be back full time soon. Then, he started telling her about all she’d missed – leaving out Levi, of course.

June noticed, though.

She sensed Charlie’s unease, and as a result, she stared. And studied.

Charlie became increasingly uncomfortable as the subject of June’s fascination. She felt like she might crack, like June would see through her if she was given enough time.

She began to feel like an imposter trying to fill her old role, and the deception of it all made her sick.

Charlie couldn’t stay for the rest of the evening, not if she was going to survive the night.

So, Charlie finished her bourbon a little too quickly, and to Baz’s disappointment, she excused herself to review online journals on her laptop. June wasn’t surprised she was leaving, though she politely said goodnight anyway.

Maybe June suspected Charlie’s weakness all along.

Maybe she was the smart one. Maybe she saw the truth that Ethan and Baz couldn’t – that Charlie was irreparably broken.

Even with the distance of a few floors separating them, Charlie felt haunted by the exchange – and maybe even still watched by June.

Charlie wanted to prove herself. She wanted to be the old star resident again, though she wondered if she had it in her.

The research proved fascinating, though research had never been a problem for Charlie. She loved learning, and she was always captivated by cases like this. Still, Paula’s case was an enigma, and Charlie went between journals, online textbooks, and her own observations over and over until her eyes burned. When she couldn’t focus anymore, she decided to take a walk and check on Paula. With any luck, she’d gain valuable information through questioning or observation. Even if learned nothing, it would be nice to see Ethan, someone who knew about her trauma and still believed in her enough to bring her here.

Charlie was halfway to Paula’s room when she spotted a familiar face.

“Timothy?” Charlie called out.

Timothy, the patient’s son, stopped mid-stride in shock. He probably didn’t think that anyone else in this hotel knew him.

“I’m one of your mom’s doctors,” Charlie explained quickly, hoping to put him at ease.

It worked. Timothy relaxed a bit, though he remained rigid enough to protect the cup of herbal tea he was carrying. Another mug for his mom, Charlie suspected. She worried that this meant her symptoms were getting worse.

“I’m on your way to your mother’s room. Do you mind if I walk with you?” Charlie asked. During the interview, Timothy had been more forthcoming than his mother, and if Paula became more uncooperative, he would be their only hope. And she worried for the boy. It had to be scary to watch something like this happen to your mother.

Timothy agreed, and they walked together quietly. After a few quiet moments, Charlie commented, “That’s very sweet of you to bring your mother some tea. You’ve been a very good caretaker, Timothy. That’s brave of you, and I want you to know you’re doing a good job, though you should also take care of yourself tonight.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. I’m used to it,” Timothy said sheepishly, looking into the cup of tea with a shy smile.

Charlie’s interest was piqued.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just mom and me at home, so I take care of her.”

“What do you take care of, Timothy?”

Timothy frowned like he’d said something wrong.

“We’re here to help,” Charlie assured him, “So if she has a condition you’ve been helping her with, it’s okay. Just let us know. It may be interacting with or causing her current ailment.”

Timothy looked at Charlie thoughtfully. Almost too thoughtfully.

Charlie was sure there was something he wanted to tell her, or at least something he should tell her.

But all he said was, “It’s nothing really. We’re doing better now.”

Better from what? she thought.

Timothy suddenly looked down and frowned further.

“Is something wrong?”

“I forgot my bag in the lobby when I went to make the tea….”

“I can go get it for you.”

“No,” Timothy insisted too quickly.

Charlie was startled.

“Well, I can bring the tea if you want….” Charlie offered, her voice soft.

“She wouldn’t take it from you,” Timothy shook his head, his eyes softer now. Almost like he was apologetic for his mom’s violent dislike of doctors.

Charlie didn’t want to let Timothy go, especially when he was clearly hiding something, but he insisted she go ahead to the room without him. Not wanting to alienate him, Charlie reluctantly complied.

Once Charlie was in Paula’s room, she almost forgot about her strange encounter with Timothy. The change in Paula was drastic. Her boisterous laughter had faded into dreary silence. She laid in the bed silent and unmoving, her face blank and cold. Even the room felt darker, like all of the energy had been drained as depression gripped the primary occupant.

Ethan was stationed in the corner of the room, and he greeted Charlie with a silent nod.

“How long has this been going on?” Charlie whispered as she approached.

“About an hour,” Ethan frowned.

“I ran into the son in the hallway. I think there’s a preexisting condition they’re hiding from us,” Charlie lowered her voice even further to keep from being heard.

“Hmm,” Ethan raised his eyebrows with intrigue.

“I’m working on it,” she assured him.

Before they could talk any further, Timothy entered with a cup of tea and a bookbag in tow. He dropped the bag by the door, letting it slouch near Ethan and Charlie as he rushed to his mother’s side to deliver the tea. His bag’s zipper was half-undone, revealing some of the contents.

Charlie couldn’t help but look.

A notebook. Headphones. Pencils and pens. What looked like a few pages of math homework. Teabags, presumably from the herbal tea.

All normal stuff for a high schooler.

Still, she tilted her head just a bit more.

Some socks. A bag of –

A bag of pills.

Charlie’s head jerked to attention.

Why would he have a bag of pills? Was he abusing them?

Charlie was about to elbow Ethan and draw his attention to it when Timothy returned for the bag, zipping it back up and slinging it over his shoulder. If he noticed her stare, he didn’t let on.

Everything that was said after that was a blur. Charlie was wracking her brain trying to mentally identify the pill, but she didn’t recognize it. If only she knew what it was, maybe she could help.

When June arrived to take her shift, Charlie took it as her opportunity to return to her room to research medications commonly used or abused by teenagers.

Ethan, oblivious to her new mission, was disappointed by how quickly she ran away. He’d been excited when she came to check on Paula. He thought she was getting back into medicine, but now she was running away from it – and him.

He’d hoped to talk to her once he was off duty.

But Charlie didn’t even realize she’d slighted him.

She spent the next forty-five minutes trying to find a match for the pill.

Nothing jumped out at her. The pill she saw didn’t seem to be commonly abused, nor was it coming up in her research. Could it be a regular vitamin? If so, why would he have it in a bag? Or was it a street drug not listed in these databases?

Without interruption, she might have spent the whole night in this fruitless search.

She was lucky Ethan knocked on the door.

Knock. Knock.

Her train of thought was rudely interrupted, she thought, and she was reluctant to abandon her computer and greet the intruder. Had there not been a patient, she might have been annoyed enough to wait for a second knock.

When she saw Ethan, her mind went back to that room – to Paula.

She forgot that there was any other reason he might be coming to see her.

Like the fact that this was her first time back to work or that he was her boyfriend.

“Are Paula and Timothy alright?” Charlie blurted out, skipping introductions as she assumed the worst.

“Oh…” Ethan was a little knocked back, “Yes. They’re fine.”

“Oh,” Charlie was relieved but now a bit confused.

He stared at her.

Didn’t she understand why he was here? Why wasn’t she inviting him inside?

For a second, she’d gotten so into her job that she’d forgotten everything else – even how much her job terrified her.

“I came to check on you,” Ethan announced finally.

This jolted Charlie’s memory, and she quickly moved back from the door, letting him enter.

Her room was smaller than his, he noted. He found himself hoping she wouldn’t sleep in it tonight. He wanted her by his side. He wanted the assurance that he hadn’t lost her by pushing her too hard.

“How are you doing?” Ethan asked as he crossed the room, silently appraising her living arrangements. By the state of the crumbled comforter, it looked like she’d been researching on her laptop for most of the night.

“Alright, I guess” Charlie murmured, a little unsure of herself.

Their case was an enigma, and their patient was rapidly detreating in a blizzard. A teen had mystery pills in his backpack. June was now studying her. All day, Charlie had been teetering between genuine passion for her job and the feeling of insufficiently filling her old role.

How well could she really be doing?

But she also couldn’t say that she was miserable. She wasn’t as sure of her decision to leave as she had been this morning, nor was she convinced that medicine was all death and destruction.

The best way to describe Charlie was unsteady. Unsure, even.

She just had to survive this case.

Ethan, unsatisfied with her answer, awkwardly paced her small hotel room. She watched.

Finally, he turned to her, and finding the courage to say the words he’d prepared for the last hour, he said, “I’ve been thinking, and I wanted to apologize. I pushed you a lot today. At the time, I thought it was right. In fact, I still think it was right, but… it wasn’t fair.”

Charlie couldn’t believe Ethan was apologizing. Any other day, she might have even gloated. But today, she squirmed, equally unnerved by the situation. Maybe even more so.

Ethan waited for her response, trying so hard to be patient but failing miserably. He couldn’t fathom that he might have misjudged her limits and ruined everything.

It felt like an eternity before she spoke.

“It’s okay… I needed to come back before I decided. Maybe not so abruptly but…” Charlie trailed off, the edge of a smile on her lips. There was a glint in her eyes, and he realized she was poking fun at him.

He was relieved.

“You’ve done really well today,” Ethan ventured, “I’m proud of you.”

Charlie shook her head sheepishly, “I barely spoke.”

“But you were listening.”

“You can’t pretend I’m the same as I was.”

“You don’t have to be the same to be a good doctor, Charlie.”

Charlie bit her lower lip as she averted her gaze.

He took that as an invitation to be bolder, “I think you should come back permanently.”

“What?” Charlie’s eyes shot back to him, the shock in her eyes verging on indignation.

“The team agrees. It’s time, Charlie,” Ethan knew he was stuck now. He couldn’t take it back or soothe the storm that was brewing.

“You spoke to the team?” her gaze grew harder.

“I wanted you to know that you had full faith in you!” Ethan explained.

“June’s already watching me like there’s something wrong with me! Now you’ve just given her more reason to study me,” Charlie shook her head, frustration rising through her veins, “Why would you do that before talking to me?”

“You need to know that we believe in you, Charlotte,” Ethan said quite defensively, “We want you on the team.”

“I haven’t even made it through this case. What makes you think I’m ready to take on another?”

“Because you’re you. You’re not even out of residency yet, and you’re pulling your weight among experts. You’re discovering preexisting conditions none of us ever knew about-“

“Of which we have no proof!” Charlie interrupted.

“You’re still closer to an answer than any of us are,” Ethan said firmly, “And even when you’re scared, like you are now, you still care. You’re a good doctor. Great, even. You’ll be better than me one day. But you’re giving up-“

“Giving up?” Charlie repeated incredulously, “That’s what you think I’m doing?”

“You have a gift!”

“I almost died,” Charlie emphasized, “Every time a patient comes in with a mystery illness and no hope, I know what that feels like. I relive the worst day of my life through their eyes, and I know I can’t save them all. And you think I’m just giving up?”

“I didn’t mean it like that, Charlie,” Ethan said, suddenly ashamed, “I’m trying to help you. I love you, and I know you love medicine. I don’t want you to lose that because of a premature decision.”

“So, you think you’re helping me by making me do what I don’t want?”

Ethan frowned, “When it feels like it’s for the best, yes… But it’ll get better.”

Charlie paused.

And then something clicked.

And the fight – and Ethan’s dumb words – were forgotten.

“Wait,” she mumbled, “Making me do what I don’t want…”

“Yes, I know, and I’m sorry. But I really am trying to help,” Ethan tried, oblivious to the shift in Charlie’s mind.

She ignored him, rushing to her computer.

“What are you doing?” Ethan asked incredulously, watching as she frantically typed something into her computer. Again, she ignored him.

Her eyes the screen until they landed on the pill she’d seen in Timothy’s bag.

“I know what’s wrong with Paula.”

Ethan dropped his defensive stance and rushed to her side, hoping he’d understand by looking at her screen. But all he saw was a medication.

“There’s a bag of lithium in Timothy’s backpack. He said he’s been taking care of her for a long time but that she got better recently. I think he’s drugging her with this.”

“Her mood swings…” Ethan’s jaw almost dropped.

“He’s probably been trying to treat her for bipolar disorder on his own. You saw how she was with doctors. I doubt she would have gone in for treatment,” Charlie felt a knot form in her stomach. Even though she was sure of her hypothesis, she hoped it wasn’t true.

“And they gave her ibuprofen to treat her head injury,” Ethan swallowed heavily.

“We have to get her to a hospital.”

“And talk to Timothy.”

As if reading each other’s minds, they abandoned the laptop in Charlie’s room and raced to Paula’s room where they found Timothy waiting by his sleeping mother, looking exhausted but sleepless with worry.

Unfortunately, Charlie’s theory was correct.

Timothy confessed, and Charlie’s heart broke as they explained the repercussions of his actions as well as the severity of what he had done wrong. She felt for him, for what he must have gone through to think such action was necessary. But she couldn’t excuse his decision to medicate her without her consent, especially given the consequences. The lithium and ibuprofen combined to form a disastrous chain reaction, one that lasted even after they discovered the cause.

It took hours for the storm to clear enough for the helicopters to take Paula to the hospital.

While they waited, Charlie and Ethan sat in his room – a romantic suite with a view of the snowy mountains. It felt like a waste now. A romantic night they could have had, if Charlie hadn’t solved such a sad mystery. She was tired, though she wouldn’t admit it. At some point, she drifted to sleep, and Ethan held her, his fingers running through her hair as he kissed her temple and quietly congratulated her on her solve.

“I always knew you’d be the one to solve it,” he whispered.

“Why?” she murmured, “Were you holding back?”

“No, because you’re smarter than me,” he chuckled.

Charlie was smiling when she fell asleep.

When she woke up, the mood had shifted back to panic.

The helicopter on its way, and the team needed to follow. June and Baz took the helicopter with Paula and Timothy, and Ethan and Charlie drove the car back once the roads opened. The team called a few times to share updates and ask for advice.

But for most of the drive, Ethan held Charlie’s hand in silence.

The case was over.

She could back to her life in the apartment where she hid from the world and pushed herself just a little day by day, building her tolerance safely. She could tell Ethan he was wrong. Or she could stay.

And the truth was… she couldn’t imagine going back now.

Not now that she remembered what it was like on the good days – ones where she made the solve and saved the day. Ones where she realized she made a difference, that she solved things other people couldn’t.

It was okay to be scared.

Even as the words were on the tip of her tongue, she was terrified.

“My answer is yes.”

Ethan’s eyes momentarily drifted from the road to her, “What?”

“To your question last night. I want to come back permanently.”

Ethan felt like he could crash the car out of pure shock.

“Are you sure?”

“I mean… not really. I’m scared, but I think it’s time,” Charlie nodded her head, trying to project the confidence she wanted to once more possess.

“We can wait for you if you need more time,” Ethan assured her, struggling to keep his eyes on the highway and not right at her.

“I know,” Charlie confirmed, “But now is the time. I can’t retire, and I can’t wait forever to go back. I’ll never be 100% ready, so I just have to jump in.”

Ethan’s heart was beating so fast that Charlie felt it as she held his hand.

“Are you really, really sure?” Ethan clarified just one more time.

“Yes,” Charlie laughed, a smile lingering on her lips.

He looked at her. Briefly, of course. He was driving, after all.

And then his face broke out in a face-splitting grin.

“I’m so proud of you, Rookie,” he brought her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles, “You’re amazing! I love you! I love you so much.”

His happiness was infectious. So infectious that she forgot about the fear.

And she laughed.

“You haven’t called me Rookie in a long time,” she squeezed his hand softly, and he cast a sideways glance at her.

“Do you still like being called Rookie?”

“Yes,” she smiled so warmly it practically radiated off of her.

And he loved her. He really did.

“Well then, I love you, Rookie,” he smirked, “And I owe you a romantic ski vacation.”

“Bold of you to assume I know how to ski.”

“And I owe you ski lessons, I suppose,” he murmured affectionately.

“You also owe me a kiss when we stop this car,” Charlie added.

He looked over at her – and quite recklessly because they were doctors and knew what could happen when young lovers were stupid on highways – he kissed her. Quickly, of course. Softly. But lovingly.

And even if she regretted it tomorrow and the world caved again, she was glad she was back today.

#Ethan ramsey #choices #ethan ramsey x mc #dr. ethan ramsey #pixelbery #choices stories you play #open heart #open heart fanfiction #with and without #fics #dr. ethan ramsey x mc

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ricaffeine · 5 years ago

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𝐇𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 | 𝐓𝐰𝐨

an: in conclusion i suck at writing, this took far too long to write and i'm not impressed. fingers crossed that the next chapter will make up for it 🖤

leave a comment! i'd appreciate it a lot :))

CHAPTER THREE

The doors creaked open, screeching into the frosty silent of the night, before snapping loudly against the wall. In contrast of the dark night, the full moon shined proudly, its light gently twinkled through the glass ceiling of the room.

Followed by were firm footsteps, shoe soles tapped against the hardwood floor and fainted into the distant. He collapsed onto his arm chair, a sigh of relief washing over as he shifted his weight back.

A knock was heard twice, followed by a steady pace of footsteps that visited the room. Kangtae averted his vision to the man– no, the ghost. Polished in his neat blue uniform, reflecting against the moonlight was a silver half-moon shaped pin tucked above his chest.

"Mr. Moon, you're back." His voice emitted softly as he stopped right in front of the desk- exactly four feet away– accompanying in this hotel for over seventy years– the longest person aside from Kangtae yet to stay, he had his own merits. Jin Hyun paused reluctantly, his wrinkles creasing from concern, eyes wide alert. "What happened to your hand?"

At first a bit muddled, but realization crept after him and Kangtae sighed. Glancing at his blood-clothed hand– scenarios of red winded up in his head. "Ah.. this?"

That impulsive woman.

"Just some accident." His reply was simple– like the man he was and unlike the moon guest house's previous owner, he was, you can say, far less complicated.

Kangtae peeled at his clothed hand, anticipating as the blood wrenched skin morphed back to what was before, clean flesh took back its place. "Where's Manager Lee?"

He then reached for his whiskey decanter, filling up a quarter of the lowball glass. "Isn't she back yet?"

Jinhyun hesitated. "About that, I'm afraid to tell you that there had been a major issue regarding your latest purchase. But do not worry sir, Manager Lee will inform you once she has discussed with the–"

"Tell her to take the day off tomorrow." Kangtae spoke and sipped his glass, embracing the scorching burn that drained down his chest. "I'll manage it myself."

Although struck in confusion, the old spirit knew better than to question his boss's command. Jinhyun nodded reluctantly, made sure he would address the message to the mortal being.

"It's the full moon today, so I think we are expecting many guests."

Kangtae drained his glass and set it back on the table, jaw clenched at the comment– though it was swiftly masked away with his poker face. "Open for business, but don't accept the ones whose death were so gruesome. They're a pain in the ass."

Suppressing the urge to tell him that discriminations shouldn't be allowed, instead Jinhyun bowed, no interest to provoke any further into his bitterness. "I will take special care, so they won't get in your way."

He left with another steady bow, footsteps fell into the distant and Kangtae picked on the red stained cloth that layed flat on his desk. A blue flame lit up on its end, he watched waves of blue consumed all of it, before golden ashes swirled and vanished into thin air.

One speck however, did not follow and he reached out, trapping it between his pincers.

"Ko Munyeong, what should I do with you?"

Munyeong slapped her phone shut.

Frustration built up like a ticking bomb as she threw it behind her. It landed with a loud thud, but she could care less. Yesterday's event had bittered her enough and Sangin's repeating missed calls since 6 a.m. weren't brightening her mood any better. Tires screeched against the waxed floor as she struck a sharp turn into the parking slot, the reserved for CEO sign knocked into nowhere.

In her new prized possession, Munyeong stomped through the building, brave less employees– who ever barely had the guts to look at her on a usual day, shuddered twice as much–

"Good morning Ms. Ko!" The tiny body wiggled its way to block her off. A weary smile is served from Sangin's pesky assistant.

"Move aside."

Seungjae shuffled, hands suspiciously frantic as she spoke. "Mr. Lee just informed me that he will be here soon–"

Munyeong hissed. "And?"

"..And that you should go wait in his office." She finished meekly, unsure of her tone.

"Why would I wait there?" She pointed her finger foward. "The meeting room is right here."

Not intrigued for her reply, Munyeong nagged the girl's shoulder, rather she'd figure it out herself.

"Move."

She strolled across, then paused within her pace, eyes captivated by a figure. Leaning onto the metal rail, Prada purse dangling in the air, she hummed in her own favor.

Ah. Him again.

"What a sight." Munyeong said as she stepped down in her extravagant red mini dress, ballooned sleeves cuffed tight at her wrists, a plunging neckline where she proudly presents her new gold necklace. True to her words, he appeared just as fine. Black slacks– which to her favor, did an incredible job in displaying his godly thighs. Cuffed sleeves of his button up accentuated his broad broad shoulders, and the spectacular waistcoat that hugged his chest.

"You look more dashing in these clothes."

The man teared his eyes away from The Witch's Rose– another of her cash-claiming pieces. A work of watercolors and actual blood splayed onto the canvas, everyone who has seen it ends up in complete awe.

However his gaze was not purely admiration, rather laced with criticism– certainly something she never enjoyed from anyone. But there are some exceptions for some specific people, aren't they?

"I thought you were different, but I was obviously wrong." She crossed her arms. "How much did he offer you?"

His voice was rough, almost coarse even. "If you can't talk politely, at least try to not be so cryptic."

"Ah. Look at you talking so casually."

Munyeong raised her chin and barged into his space, weaklings would have already shown signs of discomfort, but surprisingly he was remarkably unbothered. She dragged a finger along his shoulder, the curve of his skin firm beneath her touch, and tapped his bicep. "I practically stabbed you."

He swiveled around, this time his body directly faced hers. "What about it?"

"How much did Mr. Lee offer you to compensate and make sure your mouth stays shut?"

A short spur of silence fell before he let out an cocky ahh. "I'm guessing that method always works."

Her smile dropped. "Verbal consolation is bullshit, money is best."

"You really think so?"

She shrugged. "Then what do you want?" Eyes wide as she suggested. "Sex?"

In a swift moment he had drowned closer to her. His gaze burned at her, brushing at her lips and froze. "Is it worth that much?"

Admittedly he was good at getting on her nerves. Too good, though she'd never lose to anyone, including him. Munyeong let out a scoff.

"If you're not here for money nor sex, then what do you want?

He cocked his head slightly, his prominent eyes playing innocent and for a second Munyeong forgot that they were bickering. "A refund?"

A snap back to reality, her face laced with confusion. "What refund?"

He dodged her question and looked over her shoulder. "Ah. There it comes."

She turned around to see a Sangin entering with a box of not-so-secret cash in his hands.

"Good afternoon Mr. Moon Kangtae. I deeply apologize for what happened, what can we do–"

As usual, meetings with her always began with Sangin's devastated face– knowing all the trouble she is going to cost him– but today it did seem particularly worse.

Kantae lifted his hand, as if it was a sign to stop. "Let's cut to the chase– I want my money back."

Sangin's smile dropped, though immediately replaced by his appealing mask. "Yes, I understand–"

Kangtae stared at Munyeong, a smirk rising on the corner of his lips. "Including our little incident, I say it'd be 11 million."

Tragically, Munyeong had not noticed by the consequence of the appalling numbers. She snapped at the man to her side. "What the hell is he talking about?"

Sangin sighed. "Munyeong-ah, you see.. your little smashing session. It had wrecked The Nightmare Garden, therefore, we will have to repay our client. Mr. Kangtae is here to–"

Client?

Her eyes shot at him again, impossibly wider. "What do you mean client? Then who was that snobby lady?"

"Ms. Lee is my representative." Kangtae stepped in. "But it doesn't matter. The fact that you jeopardized my painting with that cheap wine-"

"I'm not giving up my money!"

"Well, there's nothing you can do." He smiled– devilishly and yes Munyeong would kill to wipe it off his charming face.

"You'll be hearing from my lawyers in a few days." Kangtae reached for his box of honey money, which was sheepishly handed from Sangin. "Until then, I'll take this."

With another amused– and irritatingly handsome smile, and piles of cash he headed off. Left in silence was a raging pit of fire and its hopeless manager.

Three hours and seven corspe employees later, Munyeong crumbled the paper cup in her hand. Furious was an understatement. How could she give her money back to him? She was set, eyes on her prize but just like a fucking clownery it vanished into thin air.

"Aish Moon Kangtae, that bastard." Munyeong trampled at the crumbled trash, letting out on a slice of her frustration. It was his choice to interfere with her, no one forced him to.

"Oh my my, you're a such a pretty girl." A squeaky voice giggled, penetrating into her quiet atmosphere.

She glanced at the lady, head to toe. Dressed in a horrifying shade of hot pink. Her frail grey hair was topped by a floppy hat- also in the same absurd color. She seemed to fond pearls, as it was accented everywhere, including on wrinkly her fingers where she had slotted a card in between. "Mr. Kangtae had asked me to pass this to you."

Her high-pitched voice rang like bells as she added. "He also said that he'd be willing to compromise, if' you go visit his hotel."

Munyeong raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

With a delighted smile, the lady nodded along and Munyeong promptly snatched it, ambiguous eyes interpreted onto the cursive blue lettering.

"Hotel.. Blue Moon?"

A condescending smile played on her lips. More so amused by the piece of paper and unaware of the soft breeze that swept past her.

Fine. If he wants to play with her, she'll play with him.

#it's okay to not be okay #psycho but it's okay #iotnbo #pbio fic #kdrama #kim soohyun #seo yeaji #hotel moon light #hotel blue moon #moon kang tae #moon gang tae #ko mun yeong #사이코지만괜찮아 #호텔 델루나

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potrix-the-queerschlaeger · 5 years ago

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who made you smile again

For @dls-ao3, who wanted Geralt to realise that punching your bard is never okay.

This story can also be found here on my AO3.

- - -

• it doesn't matter who hurt you, or broke you down, what matters is who made you smile again •

Jaskier’s sitting at the biggest table in the tavern when Geralt returns, surrounded by what seems to be half the village. He’s talking animatedly, hands gesturing and pointing wildly, and he’s temptingly flushed down to what Geralt can see of his chest, hair tousled and eyes sparkling with mirth.

He's in his element, nearly as much so as when he’s playing; Jaskier lives to perform, in one way or another.

Geralt allows himself a small, fond quirk of his lips before he schools his face into neutrality, and starts making his way across the crowded room. Jaskier spots him as he approaches, and his own smile somehow, impossibly, grows even wider, making Geralt’s chest feel all warm and tingly.

“Ah, the man of the hour!” Jaskier crows as he pats the empty seat next to himself, then tugs at Geralt’s sleeve impatiently until Geralt settles down with a grunt. “Ale and food, for the brave Witcher who, oh so heroically, slew the swarms of nekkers that have been terrorising your humble town!”

Geralt doesn’t roll his eyes, but the urge is definitely there. Instead, he accepts the tankard someone passes him, and mouths, “Six nekkers,” behind Jaskier’s back, much to the amusement of the gathered people.

When Jaskier turns to scowl at him suspiciously, Geralt looks at him blankly, and takes an innocent sip of his ale.

The innkeeper brings him a heaping plate of meats and cheeses soon after—on the house, as a thank you for getting rid of the nekkers—and Geralt eats in silence, letting the rumbling sound of Jaskier’s voice wash away the last traces of adrenaline from the fight. One of Jaskier’s hands lands on Geralt’s knee, a comforting and familiar weight, and when he focuses on it, Geralt can make out the soft buttercups-teak-amber scent that is Jaskier under the more prominent tavern smells.

The conversations going on around him are mere background noise, right up until a barked, “That's gotta be utter horseshit, bard!” has all his senses hone in on a man across the table.

His voice is full of annoyed disbelief aimed at Jaskier, and could easily turn into genuine anger under the wrong circumstances; it happens often enough, with inebriated people spoiling for a good fight. Geralt sits up a little taller, and fixes his gaze on the man, eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

But Jaskier merely chuckles, light and disarming, and pours a goblet of wine. He slides it over to the man with a cheeky wink, and a teasing, “Oh, my friend, you greatly underestimate the force of nature that is a Witcher.”

Turning to address the whole table again, he continues grandly, “Armwrestling a half-giant? Not even a challenge! Taking down a troll? Like stealing sweets from a babe!”

Geralt has, in fact, had the misfortune of landing in a brawl or two with trolls. He’s not overly keen on repeating the experience, although he’s not going to point that out right now. The man who’d questioned Jaskier’s words is looking increasingly enraptured, nodding along eagerly now, and everyone else is listening with interest and awe as Jaskier keeps relating some of their more outlandish and peculiar adventures.

“But a Witcher is not only a most formidable creature in battle, oh no,” Jaskier says conspiratorially, quieter, and the people lean in closer, like moths caught by a flame. “Their skills can prove incredibly useful in other, more private endeavours, if you get my meaning.”

A young woman lets out a scandalised giggle, while one man chokes on his ale hard enough that his laughing friend has to clap him on the back.

Under the table, Geralt pinches the inside of Jaskier’s thigh. Jaskier yelps through his own laughter, slanting Geralt a mischievous look.

A little nervously, another woman asks, “So much strength, though, is it not dangerous?”

“A Witcher’s strength is evenly matched by his control,” Jaskier explains, somewhat testily, and leans most of his weight against Geralt, as if to prove a point. “None of us have anything to fear. Well, none of you, I’d wager, unless one amongst you reveals themselves to be even more incessantly talkative than dear old me.”

There are chuckles all around the table, followed by a few more questions, and Jaskier himself is loose and relaxed where he’s pressed to Geralt’s side, but Geralt himself stiffens at the carelessly thrown out words.

A memory niggles at him, old and half-forgotten, though once he manages to pull it to the front of his mind, Geralt suddenly feels sick. Years ago, shortly after they’d met, on the trek up Filavandrel’s mountain; Jaskier’s constant chattering, a passing mention of Geralt’s old, hated moniker, Geralt’s fist in Jaskier’s stomach, Jaskier’s pained coughing and wheezing.

As if burnt, Geralt snatches his hand away from Jaskier’s leg, staring down at his leather-covered fingers in disgust. Geralt would never use his full strength on an innocent human, that much is true, but he’d hurt Jaskier nonetheless. Back then, just now most likely, and how many other times, without even realising?

And why?

Geralt’s had abuse hurled at him for decades, from both strangers and people he’d foolishly allowed himself to trust. Folk have spat at him, thrown rocks and rotten food after him, refused him pay, and chased him out of town with pitchforks and torches. He’s been tricked, betrayed, hated, yet none of that ever made him lash out with violence.

“Geralt,” Jaskier's voice is laced with concern, quiet enough for only Geralt to hear. He peers at Geralt with furrowed brows, but Geralt can't hold his gaze, ducking his head to escape it after a moment.

He keeps his eyes lowered while Jaskier makes their excuses to his disappointed audience, shame and guilt swirling together in his stomach. Even now, when he least deserves it, Jaskier's priority is to take care of Geralt, even when it goes against what he must have planned for the rest of his night.

Jaskier exchanges a few quick words and a handful of coins with the innkeeper, ordering them a bath and some more ale. They climb the stairs to their room in silence, and even while he helps Geralt out of his armour, Jaskier only hums a slow melody under his breath. It's for his comfort, Geralt knows, and it makes the guilt clump and rise, settling as an aching lump in his throat.

When there's a knock at the door, he's almost relieved that Jaskier has to move away to go open it.

Geralt keeps undressing as the buckets of hot water are carried in, and snatches up one of the tankards as soon as they're put down on the table in the corner, downing it in three big gulps. It does nothing to calm his ugly thoughts, but it does provide a distraction, even if a disappointingly temporary one.

Jaskier appears at his side to take it out of his unresisting hand, fingers whispering a caress across Geralt's wrist. “Come on, then, before the water grows cold.”

The heat of the bath does soothe away some of Geralt's tension. But then Jaskier goes to fetch a stool, goes to sit down at Geralt's back, and Geralt finds himself blurting, “Join me.”

Sharing baths is nothing unusual, hasn't been for some time, although it doesn't feel like something Geralt should be allowed to indulge in, right now. The thought of letting Jaskier take care of him, however, makes Geralt feel much worse, all the more as if he's taking advantage.

If Jaskier's surprised, he doesn't let on. He sheds his clothes unselfconsciously, right where he stands, and steps into the tub with an appreciative sigh. Geralt maneuvers him until his back is flush against Geralt's chest, his head tipped back to rest on Geralt's shoulder.

Reaching out over the edge of the tub, Geralt fetches one of the washcloths Jaskier had laid out, lathering it up before he starts to gently run it down Jaskier's arm. He falters briefly, feeling horribly selfish for enjoying the contact, but then Jaskier murmurs, “That's lovely, sweetheart, don’t stop,” and Geralt couldn't refuse even if he wanted to.

His mind drifts while he washes Jaskier, back to that very first day they’d met.

He remembers how irritated he’d been by the aimlessly yapping bard, to begin with, but also how strangely intriguing he’d found him. Coming across a human brave, or foolish, enough not to fear his kind had been rare, back then, and even with Jaskier’s tireless work, even after the countless ballads singing praise to the Witchers and their good deeds, most people are still at least wary of them.

Jaskier had been an anomaly, and Geralt had been curious, otherwise he would have ditched his pesky shadow before they’d ever set foot outside Posada.

For hours of their journey up the mountain, Jaskier had talked with barely enough breaks for breathing, doing his very best to sell himself as a worthy travelling companion. And, to his own astonishment, Geralt had found himself growing amused by Jaskier’s continuously more ridiculous suggestions—”A horse groomer! My flower crowns are things of legendary beauty, Roach would look marvelous in one!”—and actually considering his offer.

And then Jaskier had mentioned Blaviken, and Geralt had come back to himself, wondering what the fuck it was he was doing.

Allowing a human bard to travel with him, smiling to himself at Jaskier’s antics, horsing about with a bard when he should be focused on his task, on his work, on the Path.

And Jaskier’d still been talking, always talking, and suddenly Geralt had been furious, and—

And he’d punched Jaskier.

For daring to make him feel something beside completely fucking miserable for the first time in what had seemed like forever. For not being afraid of him, for trying to befriend him, for being good.

Too good for Geralt.

Hand shaking, Geralt drops the washcloth next to the tub so he can pull at Jaskier’s leg, exposing the inside of his thigh. And there, high up, it is; a small red mark on otherwise unblemished skin, standing out like a stark reminder of all of Geralt’s faults.

A wounded noise tears itself out of Geralt’s throat before he can stop it, and he stands quickly, turning away from Jaskier and his confused, “Geralt?” to climb out of the tub. He’s dripping everywhere, trembling all over as he stalks into the bedroom proper, then stops in the middle of it with no idea what to do.

A tentative hand lands on his back, between his shoulders, and Geralt twitches, but can’t find it in himself to shake it off. Seemingly emboldened, Jaskier pushes him towards the bed, then onto it, following after Geralt to straddle his lap.

Geralt realises his mistake when gentle hands cup his face, and intent blue eyes bore into his, Jaskier murmuring, quiet but determined, “Talk to me, Geralt.”

There’s nowhere for Geralt to look but directly at Jaskier. He clenches his jaw, grits his teeth, but Jaskier doesn’t back off. Instead, he starts rubbing his thumbs over Geralt’s cheeks, slow and soft, eyes firmly locked on Geralt’s.

Barely audible, hoarsely, Geralt grits out, “I hurt you.”

Jaskier frowns at that, moving one hand from Geralt’s face to poke at the bruise on his thigh. “This?” he asks with a disbelieving little chuckle. “Geralt, darling, I’ve hurt myself worse by walking into doors. Or roughhousing with my brothers, as a child. Or tripping over my own clumsy feet. It was in jest, I don’t mind. I like you teasing me, you know I do. And marking me, though I usually prefer your mouth to be doing the actual marking.”

Which Geralt knows, he really does, but it does little to reassure him right now. “Not this,” he forces out, then amends, “Not only this.”

“If this is about the dragon mountain again,” Jaskier begins, tenderly tucking a few strands of damp hair behind Geralt’s ears, “you have to know, by now, that I’ve accepted your apology. And forgiven you, sweetheart.”

Which Geralt also knows, though a reminder of that particular conversation is never a pleasant one. “You always do. Forgive me. And I—I keep hurting you.”

“Geralt, what—”

“When we met,” the words feel like rough gravel in Geralt’s mouth, “the day with the sylvan. I hurt you.”

Understanding flashes across Jaskier’s face. “You punched me. And I reminded you, tonight, didn’t I?”

At Geralt’s terse nod, Jaskier laughs softly. “It was a long time ago—”

“That’s no excuse!” Geralt snaps, then immediately clenches his mouth shut again.

Instead of rearing back, or getting angry, however, Jaskier turns thoughtful. “It isn’t, I suppose,” he allows after a moment. Rubbing at the tense muscles in Geralt’s jaw, he wants to know, “What happened? That day, I mean? Because, Melitele knows, I’ve made you furious since.”

Geralt has to close his eyes. “You showed no fear. You were annoying. You made me feel—” he cuts himself off, gives a helpless shrug. “You made me feel.”

“Oh, you old fool,” Jaskier says, nothing but fondness in his voice and face when Geralt dares to glance at him. He leans in to brush a brief, featherlight kiss over Geralt’s lips, then leans their foreheads together. He huffs a laugh, eyes crinkling in humour. “That would do it, wouldn’t it?”

“Jaskier—” Geralt tries to protest, but is promptly shushed with another kiss.

“Do you regret it?” Jaskier asks, and Geralt nods.

“Of course you do. Would you do it again?”

Geralt shakes his head.

“No, you wouldn’t. Because you’re a good man, Geralt. You have faults, you misstep, as does everyone else. But you learn, from every single mistake, and that is such a precious gift, one that not nearly enough people possess. You try so, so hard to overcome all the prejudice, the disadvantages, the adversities that have been put in your way, and I am so, so incredibly proud of you, my love.”

Geralt genuinely does not know what his face does at that proclamation, but whatever it is, it has Jaskier snort inelegantly. “Yes, yes, I know. We’re done talking, I promise.”

Relieved, in more ways than he can count, Geralt cranes his neck to kiss Jaskier properly.

And when Jaskier demands, murmured hotly against Geralt’s lips, “Show me what that Witcher strength of yours is good for, darling,” Geralt doesn’t hesitate.

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crqstalite · 4 years ago

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19. — fireworks for kodelyn and kallan? i'm intrigued by them :0

Fireworks

Shepard,

I was informed there was to be a light show somewhere on the strip later tonight. Lt. Vega compared them to something called fireworks. I am unsure of what that means but curious. If you’re free, I would enjoy the chance to watch them with you.

- Kallan

----

Kodelyn initially hesitated over the request, reading over it for any hints towards non-benevolent intentions. A light show on the Citadel seemed innocent enough, something friends would do. She hadn’t seen them in some time.

Yet this was an assassin that asked her to see it with her. Yes, she had plenty of friends who were, by definition, mercenaries and assassins like her. Every single one of them had used their respective guns more than once.

Except Kallan Gautheir was in a league of her own, and not by her own doing. Not a few days ago, this was the same woman that had attempted to kill her. The same woman who wore her face with contempt. The same woman that tried to steal her life right out from under her.

Understandably, Kodelyn’s a bit suspicious. Light shows with your own clone didn’t come with a manual. Or an explanation.

In the moment, it had seemed like the right decision. To grab her hand and pull. To tell her she had more of a purpose than to be...well, her.

It felt like staring at a mirror in that split second Kodelyn had leapt forward and wrapped her fingers around her wrist. As if she were talking to herself, trying to talk her down from squirming out of her grip. To a point, she thinks she was. Projecting, that was. Kodelyn had surprised herself. She was angry. Furious. Brooks, Cerberus, to an extent even the Illusive Man had convinced this woman she was good for nothing but what they’d set her out to do. Convinced her she could never be her own person, follow her own passions. Her entire personality was wrapped up in becoming something she wasn’t.

Or something she was, technically. Kodelyn has to remind herself sometimes that she is really a complete copy of herself. As far as any DNA scanner was concerned, she was Shepard. Well, they both were. Kodelyn was the real one. The alpha prototype, as it seemed. She knew that. The average passerby did not.

Saving her seemed like the right thing to do. The only thing to do.

Those dark, but somehow bright mahogany eyes had widened upon realizing Kodelyn didn’t intend to kill her outright. Surprise painted her entire expression when she was offered to live what life the Reaper’s invasion would allow her. Speechless, when Kodelyn had told her she was free. As if she’d been speaking in tongues or another language, completely spaced out just on that idea alone.

Had she ever been offered a choice like that before? Something says she hadn’t. Something says her short life had been nothing but being told what to do without even a second thought. Kodelyn wants to rectify it, even if she’s fumbling trying to figure out how.

But at the same time, and a little more selfishly, she doesn’t think she could’ve sat back and watched herself die. Watched herself fall to her death among the Citadel wards. That may have haunted her for much longer than she could’ve handled.

Lately Kallan had been staying in the apartment, shut up in the room she’d claimed for herself, closest to the door. Kodelyn had expected her to want to explore, but she’d made herself scarce. When she wasn’t doing that, she was occasionally giving heart attacks to the crewmates that came over to visit. It was a little amusing. EDI was currently the only one successful at knowing which was which upon first glance (which Joker claimed was cheating, rightfully so with her biometric scans), but Kallan had managed to confuse the rest of them. Kodelyn couldn’t help but laugh when James had come over, and Kallan had come out of her room to grab something from the kitchen. All in good, unintentional fun for those on the Cerberus SR-2 crew as they got to know the not-her.

But short of that, Kallan had never made a request to go out somewhere with her. She’d been silently observing, quietly answering questions when prodded. Sitting at the kitchen counter in the mornings with her nose in her omni-tool, or staring out the big picture window in the living room. But the last day or so, she’d been showing some sort of fledgling personality. Curiosity about things outside of the Reapers, mostly a fascination with EDI, but also an academic one of the biotics on the crew. She’d gone out with Miranda earlier in the day, presumably so that Miranda could compile more data on her, but she’d seemed pleased when she returned.

Kodelyn can’t read her. Maybe that speaks more volumes about her herself than it does about her clone.

Placing the datapad back down on her nightstand, she slips a sweatshirt on and pads downstairs. Would it hurt to grant her request? Probably not. Kallan would know better not to start anything, especially in the middle of a gathering. It could be worth giving her the benefit of the doubt, after all, until the party all they have is time. Maybe Kodelyn just wants to sate her curiosity about her as well.

Kallan herself is watching one of the vidscreens with great curiosity, her head slightly tilted to the right. Kodelyn isn’t sure what she’s watching, most likely a drama off one of the vid channels, but she taps the woman on the shoulder. It’s almost as if she’s electrocuted her, the biotic jolting and whipping her head around to look at her.

“Don’t freak out.” Kodelyn holds her hands up, “Just wanted to see what you were up to.”

It takes her a moment, a critical eye roaming over her form but Kallan relaxes back into the couch, “Then...I am up to nothing. I was curious what entertainment the Citadel had, but I’m not quite pleased with what I’ve found. There are...a lot of inaccuracies in the vids that portray the Alliance.”

“I’m not surprised.” She answers, leaning her forearms on the couch’s back. To a point, she wonders how Kallan can tell the difference, but just how much she knows about their military is an unknown, “People love a good story way more than they do facts.”

“That seems counterintuitive. How could you build a story on a shaky foundation of skewed details?” Kallan furrows her brows, gesturing at the screen. Her reaction makes Kodelyn smile, how many of these had she ever seen? She doubts Cerberus would’ve been showing her entertainment media. Maybe Tali could show off Fleet and Flotilla to her before they had to ship out again, “Regardless, is there something you needed?”

“Got your message. Can’t say I saw any adverts for the show, but lead the way.” Kodelyn nods towards the front door, “I’ll have to admit, I’ve never seen one on the Citadel before.”

Her eyes brighten, pushing herself up from the couch, “You haven’t? I thought they were common.”

“I don’t spend a lot of recreational time down in the wards. This shore leave is one of the few times I’ve been for longer than a day or two.” She answers, “Could be fun.”

“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I didn’t think it was.”

Childlike wonder. That’s the only word Kodelyn has to describe the look on her clone’s face when they’d arrived to the venue, watching the show with wide eyes.

Another one of the lights flashes over the strip, crackling with artificial pink and blue fireworks. Kodelyn had been pleasantly surprised, they weren’t nearly as loud as she’d thought they’d be, but just as bright. It seemed to be part of one of the nearby establishment’s routines for the weekend crowd, Kallan had just managed to catch it a few hours prior to them lighting it.

Her excitement was infectious. It’s a little odd, seeing her own face brightly smile in a way she knew she hadn’t in years. Seeing anything flying over head that weren’t bullets was...probably a new experience for her. When she’d said blank slate, Kodelyn hadn’t taken it as seriously as she should have.

She nudges the other woman’s shoulder with her own during intermission, “Good view, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Better than good.” She pulls her jacket tighter around her, turning to face her, “I’ve...never had the chance to see something like this.”

Then she was right. Kodelyn prods the question, “How much of the galaxy have you seen, Kallan?”

Like a wilted flower, the question makes her expression fall, “Not much. The strip, the archives...even the Normandy. All new places in the last couple of months. Before then, I’d never been off the station where they woke me up.”

Kodelyn feels like she’s understandably stunned, “You’ve never been to the Citadel before?”

Kallan is silent for a few moments, other pedestrians passing behind them, “I’ve been cooped up in a Cerberus facility for most of the time I’ve been alive. Brooks kept me there, taught me what I needed to know. Walking, talking, learning how to exist. There wasn’t time for vids or games or whatever else, I was learning how to be you. I’m probably the most mal-adjusted thirty year old to ever exist, to be entirely honest.”

She isn’t sure how to answer that. Her clone was mature, probably recreated with similar neural pathways to put her right at the mental age of thirty, but her memories aren’t there. They aren’t her’s, and she’s...

Still a person. A person with no idea of friendship, comradery, even love. If she did, it was probably skewed by Brook’s treatment of her.

“I’m sorry.”

Kallan raises an eyebrow, “Why? It isn’t as if you were the one that created me.”

“No. But...” What answer even is there? She feels a bit guilty, as if there was something she could’ve done or should’ve done to prevent what’d happened, but there isn’t anything she can think of short of not coming back at all, “It’s not fair what happened to you.”

“I don’t think fair mattered when they woke me up.” Another lightwork goes off, the crowd roaring with excitement. Kallan’s expression lifts into something more wistful while the green lights plays with the shadows on her face, “I don’t have childhood memories, and sometimes I don’t know where you end and I begin.”

“You’re your own person now, Kallan. You’re free to do whatever you want now.”

“I’ve never known true freedom.” The other woman leans against the railing again, rocking back and forth on her heels, “To be entirely honest, I’m not sure what to do with it. It goes against everything I was trained to do.”

“Nothing wrong with breaking a few boundaries.”

“Maybe so.” Kallan says. She gently pulls at the hair on her head, “That freedom does spell something other than looking exactly the same as you now.”

“Got any ideas on what you’ll do?”

“Nothing yet. Lawson -- Miranda, she suggested a new hair color. EDI suggested something far more drastic, but I’m not partial to artificial eye colors. Or tattoos.” Kallan says, softly smiling, “Red maybe. Or blue. Or maybe I should shave it all off. If I had any credits, I might buy something that’s not black or Alliance blue.”

“I’ll see what I can do about it. I don’t have many of my own I can offer you, but I’ll transfer over some funds.”

“Oh.” Her surprise is genuine, yet the idea seems to please her, “That’s very kind of you.”

“It’s the least I could do. I wouldn’t toss you to the wolves like that for fun.”

“I suppose I should think more highly of you.” Kallan tilts her head skyward, “Regardless, I should actually be thanking you for what you’ve already done for me.”

“I’d think I’d be one of the last people you’re thanking.”

“I’d be spattered somewhere in the wards if you hadn’t stopped to help. If you’d let me go.” Kallan says, “If the roles were reversed, I don’t think I could have done that. You’re a good person, Shepard. Guess I wish I was too.”

“Well, you didn’t take the opportunity to kill me in my sleep last night. I think that’s a step in the right direction.”

Kallan chuckles, “That’s only because Alenko would have noticed.” Seeing Kodelyn’s stunned expression she crookedly grins, “But you’re right. If I wanted to, I would have.”

“Kallan, I’m not sure how to take that. You did try to kill me, on my own ship. Only a few days ago.”

“I’m serious, believe it or not. If I killed you, I’d be blamed, and then where would we be? It wouldn’t benefit me at all.” She shrugs. Her voice gets softer, “I wouldn’t want to kill the only person who’s shown me any real respect.”

“Yeah. I trust you won’t try anything against me, and hopefully not my crew either.”

“It’d be the same outcome. I might not have your mind, but I am smarter than that.” She steps away from the railing, glancing around at the people nearby, “Fun how I’m only discovering this side of life at the end of the world as we know it.”

Lightworks crackle above their heads, bathing them in white light speckled with red. Kodelyn puts a hand on her shoulder, “Better late than never.”

#kodelyn shepard #kallan gautheir #oc #original character

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lostinthemazecalledmyhead · 7 years ago

Photo

Part 1 Beginning of a long long journey

Part one (beginning of a long long journey); Part two (Good guys); Part three (No place in heaven); Part four (Oh, girl you’re the devil);

Word count: 2508 Summary: You are on a road trip with Kai, Damon and Klaus and have to stop for gas, but as often happens when you are in their company, things don’t go as planned.

“I can't believe I said yes.” You tell Damon shaking your head. Damon turns around on his heels with an conceited grin on his face that is just nearly killing you. “It’s no secret you can’t resist all this.” He says gesturing to his own body. You let out an annoyed sigh and open the car door. “Is he annoying you, love?” Klaus walks up to you and shoots Damon an threatening glance. “I suppose we better get going and get this over with before anyone gets killed.” You suggest. “Were you going to start this party without me?” A third voice asks. You look over your shoulder and see Kai walking up to the car. Confused you turn to Klaus and Damon. “What is he doing here?” You only knew that you were going to be stuck in the car with Klaus and Damon, which could end in a fight, now that Kai is added to the mix it could end in a bloody massacre. “So lovely to see you again, Y/N.” Kai whispers in your ear. You feel his breath on you bare neck. The feeling of the brush of warm air on your skin and the idea of Kai being so close to you makes your hair stand up straight. “Get off of her.” Klaus growls and pushes Kai away from you. “She’s off limits.” True that. “I think that she can decide that for herself.” Damon interferes. “What about you all getting your stubborn asses in the car.” You say before things could get really out of hand. Threatening glances are exchanged before everyone gets into the car. You have to sit in back with Kai because having Damon or Klaus sit next to him is like setting the timer on a bomb you actually don’t want to go off. It’s a just a matter of time. Everyone is tense. “Tell me, Cher.” Kai says imitating a southern accent. “How did the hybrid get you to comply to this road trip of hell?” He asks and then quickly adds “Well hell, except for your company of course.” He winks at you. “Klaus,” you say noticeably correcting him. “didn’t get me to comply to anything. Actually it was Damon who persuaded me into this.. Whole thing.” You say for the lack of ways to describe this road trip. Damon who's sitting shotgun turns around smiling broadly. “What can I say, I can be very persuasive.” He looks at you as if you're sharing a secret. How in the world are you going to keep them from fighting when you are the reason they are challenging each other? “Shut it. Both of you.” You tell them. “If you're just going to act like kids, then I don’t know what I’m doing here.” Damon turns around in his seat and stares at the road ahead of you. “Thank you.” You say relieved. It didn’t take long before the silence was broken again. “The gas is low.” Klaus's voice is the first to break the quiet. “Already?” You ask disbelieving. “Couldn’t you fill up before we left?” Kai asks Klaus irritated by the fact that we already needed the make a stop. “It’s Rebekah's car, mate.” Klaus's voice sounds hostile. “This is unbelievable. Not even an hour on the road and we have to stop. All because the hybrid didn’t fill the tank.” Kai rambles angrily. “It’s not my bloody car!” Klaus cries angry, slamming his hands on the steering wheel almost making the car fly off the road. Scared you look out the window and see the depths of the ravine next to the road. “Guys, remember that there is also a mortal in the car, who really doesn’t want to be smashed to death by gravity.” Your voice is a bit shaky due to your fear of heights. Klaus grumbles an apology. A thought just popped up into your head and you turn to Kai. Curious he looks at you. “What would happen if a vampire is smashed to death?” You can't help but wonder. Kai laughs out loud. “Now that is an interesting question, Y/N!” Kai replies overly amused. “I wonder about death a lot too.” “And I’m going to wonder a lot about your death if you don’t stop being so infuriating.” Klaus growls at Kai. “Come on, Kai.” You give him your judgy eyes. Kai just shrugs. “I think it would be marvellous to find out.” You raise your eyebrow. He really is a nutjob. A total basketcase. But there is something else about him, something you do like. That’s the case with each guy in this car. They're repellent, but there is something about them you admire. You've never admitted that their cockiness intrigued you, but it does. They are cocky without being vain. “You’re an idiot Kai.” You say giving him a playful push. Kai smiles at you. “You have a point there.” He says pretending to really think it over. “But at least I'm fun.” He adds with a wink. Laughing you shake your head. “Having fun back there, I hear.” Damon says turning around. If there is one person who has a jealousy thing, It’s Damon. “If you three weren’t so stuck-up we could all be having fun.” You point out. “I don’t share well with others, love.” Klaus says while Damon speak at the same time. “Foursomes aren't really my style.” You scoff loudly. The car stops and you can't wait to get out. Needing a minute of silence you walk away from the car heading to the back of the gas station. You hear Klaus calling your name, but you pretend to not have heard him. Just as you've sat down on the grass with your back against a tree, your phone rings. “How is everything going?” Stefan asks. You sigh. “This is torture, Stefan!” You exclaim. “I don't care how busy you are, but you and Elena owe me big time.” Stefan is silent for a moment and you picture his serious face, contemplating what to say to you. “We do, Y/N. I personally know Damon is a real pain in the ass and I don’t like either Kai and Klaus, but it’s for the greater good. You're the only one who can keep every one of them from grabbing each other’s throats.” Even though Stefan is right, it doesn’t make it any less difficult. “I’ll check in with you later. I got to go.” Stefan says and then hangs up. You close your eyes and rest your head against the tree. Silence. When you hear a loud sound you don’t open your eyes. Of course! How could you even think that the silence would last longer than just a few seconds. Reluctant you open your eyes when you start to hear people yelling at each other. “Well, that's not what I expected.” You mumble looking at the hooded men fleeing from the backdoor of the gas station. Guns in their hands and a bag filled with cash. It takes a moment before you realize the danger. The men notice you and one of them starts shooting at you. Fast you jump behind the tree feeling a sharp pain in your arm. You look down seeing the blood staining your white blouse. Great... Your ability to stay calm is also thanked to the fact that it’s just a graze. You're traveling with supernatural creatures and you get shot by humans, what’s luck? The shooting stops, but the yelling only seems to get worse. You take a chance and peek around the tree. You see Klaus and Kai fighting the men. Not that there really is anything the men can do against their strength. You feel someone behind you and turn around ready to throw a punch. “Are you alright?” Damon asks concerned, while deflecting your fist like it’s nothing. Then he sees the blood on your blouse and you can the change in his face. He's furious. Not only in the way normal humans are. The veins around his eyes turn blue and purple and his eyes seem from another world. You lay your hand on his cheek. “Calm down, avenger.” You say flashing him a comforting smile. “It’s not the time for you to lose your cool.” Damon places his hand over yours and you can see his eyes change back. When you can feel his breathing slow down you let your arm fall next to your body. Damon looks at the blood and bites his wrist. You hold up your hand. “No thanks.” You politely decline. “It’ll heal you, Y/N.” Gently you put his arm down and start to head towards the shop. “I know duvis.” You tell Damon. The bodies of the four men lie motionless on the dark stained ground. “Y/N!” Kai hurries over to you. He looks at your arm and then back up into your face, looking scrambled. “It’s just a graze.” You say before he can overreact. “Why wouldn't you let Damon heal you?” Klaus asks. “Because I can't expect there to always be a vampire to heal me whenever I get a scratch.” “That is hardly a scratch.” Klaus replies. “It’s the principle.” You say in a way they know it’s the end of the discussion. “What are we going to do about the bodies?” You ask looking at the dead men. “We’ll have to bury them in the woods. First let me bandage you up.” Klaus says. You shake your head. “Not enough time to do both.” “How about Klaus patches you up and in the meantime Kai and I will get rid of the bodies.” Damon suggest. You know that he actually doesn’t want you to have alone time with Klaus, because he is too afraid that you might fall in love with him or even Kai for that matter. But he can also be practical and that is what he is doing right now. You agree and separate. You and Klaus enter through the back door which the robbers used to flee. The inside is trashed. You’re afraid of what you might find. Walking in front you turn around the corner, into the store, walking right into the barrel of a gun. Shook, you stand still making Klaus bump into you. It’s the owner of the gas station, and after he realizes you are not a threat he lowers his gun. “My girlfriend here needs some help.” Klaus says stepping to your side. Even though you didn’t like his use of girlfriend you show the man your blood soaked arm. “Should I call an ambulance?” The man asks slightly panicking. “No!” You yell way to fast, making the man suspicious. “We’re in a hurry. We need to help our friends but it’s a long drive and otherwise we won’t be on time. And besides, it’s just a graze.” After you finished talking you look up at Klaus and see him looking at you with his eyebrow slightly lifted. He once told you he loved it when you rambled nervously. Something you did a lot when you just met him, now you rather give him a snide remark or a good punch in the shoulder. “A med kit is good.” Klaus tells the man. “You’ll have to take those off.” Klaus tells you with a flirtatious smirk when the man left to get the med kit. “You’ll have to help me.” You say innocently knowing that you are still wearing a top underneath. At that moment the man comes back and he gives you a place in the back so you can both sit. Klaus slowly starts to unbutton your blouse locking his eyes with yours. “Are you okay?” Klaus asks you with a gentle voice you don’t recognize. “I’m fine, it’s just a..” Klaus interrupts you before you can say it’s just a graze. “I mean, you almost got killed, Y/N. As a vampire I’ve dealt with death a lot, but I know that for a human it can be emotional. So how are you dealing?” You smile at his attempt of trying to understand human reaction, it’s alluring. “Klaus, I’ve seen a lot of things I whish I hadn’t seen because of hanging with you guys. I mean it’s hard, but I’m getting used to it. I’m not that fragile girl I was anymore.” Klaus smiles. “You’re a hard ass now Y/N, but you never were fragile. If you were, you wouldn’t be standing here now with three obnoxious vampires in an attempt to save the world.” You’re too busy watching his face too see what he is even doing. You liked the way Klaus could almost seem normal. There were moments he could be rational and that were the moments you wondered how is mind worked. Because there could also be a rage in him that scared you to death. But right now you saw something you didn’t recognize as either sides of him. He himself almost seemed fragile. Vulnerable. “This is going to hurt.” He says and before you can even snap back to reality you feel a sharp pain in your arm. Your body tenses and gritting your teeth you look down seeing the alcohol he poured on your arm to disinfect it runs down your skin. “Told you.” Klaus says grinning at your reaction. “So tell me, why is It that you’re really doing this?” He asks. “Because I don’t think you’re enjoying this nor are you Katherina. Playing three guys at a time would even be top game for her.” Your eyes widen. “You think that I..” “No,” he interrupts you. “It’s what I don’t think. You’re to… you.” Whatever that means. “Since Stefan knows that I am friends with every one of you guys he thought I was the only way that the car was going to arrive safely with all of you unharmed.” You explain. Klaus is done and puts the stuff back in the case. “I think that he is right.” Klaus admits. “I see the way Damon looks at you and the way Kai talks to you, they would die for you, Y/N, you know that?” Not wanting him to stop talking you slowly shake your head. “Even though they have people they love they are willing to leave them to die for you.” Klaus stands up and you do too. “I would die for you.” He adds after a pause. “Those are heavy words, Klaus.” You say not knowing what else to tell him. “I don’t want you to die for me. I don’t want anyone to die for me.” Uncomfortable you look up into his tender eyes looking back at you. “Y/N, there is a goodness in you that breaks my heart.” He brushes your hair out of your face and puts it behind your ear. At this moment the two of you just stare at each other. “We have to go.” He then says snapping the both of you back to reality. Realizing that you have a long road ahead of you.

My question for you as reader is what did you think of it. What is is what you want to happen next?

The question of part one is: What/where is their next stop and why (if there is a special reseaon why they’re stopping).

And for every next part you can always submit lines you want to be said and I’ll find a way to craft it into the story.

#vampire diaries #vd #vd imagine #vampire diaries imagine #the originals #originals imagine #damon imagine #damon salvatore imagine #damon salvatore #klaus mikaelson imagine #klaus mikaelson #klaus imagine #kai parker #kai parker imagine #kai imagine #stefan salvatore imagine

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disrepairhouse · 6 years ago

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Chapter 17 - Petty Revenge

Itara took a step back, watching with barely contained amusement as one of the many museum patrons took a step closer to the large oil painting in front of him. A red, velvet rope hung on golden poles around it, keeping the painting out of reach, but the man stepped as close as he could without crossing the line, studying the large painting of a flaming bird closely.

Though Itara stood alone at the moment, her group was nearby, studying a marble sculpture. They’d answered all the questions on their packets and had decided to explore and examine some of the pieces they hadn’t before. The main lobby was directly to their left so they wouldn’t be far when it got close, and because of this Sparky had decided to take a rest on one of the nearby benches. He sat to Itara’s right and she backed up towards him until she sat on the metal bench beside him. He eyed her as she did, noting the look of trouble easily enough.

“What are you up to, Left-Foot?”

“Me? Nothing, nothing at all, Sparky,” she responded rather matter-of-factly, keeping her sights on the painting. He eyed her suspiciously, eventually following her line of sight to the painting. He studied it, comparing it to a file online to see if something was different about it, but saw nothing… at first. But then, he swore, the painting shifted. It was subtle, and even he hadn’t been sure at first, but upon reviewing his optical files he confirmed that it did, in fact, shift ever so slightly. The bird’s beak moved a centimeter to the left to stare at the man studying it. The man also seemed to catch something, but with the shake of his head, he dismissed it, much to the tiny hedgehog’s amusement.

“You are planning something.”

“Nope. Not me.”

“…Where is the possessed doll?”

A grin spread across Itara’s face before it vanished again, “I wonder…”

So that was it. Looking towards the painting again, he had only enough time to stand back up before the room’s lights flashed, drawing everyone’s attention.

“That’s strange… it’s only this room,” one of their group, who had been closer to the entrance lobby, commented.

“What happened?” Sceira questioned.

“The lights are flashing. But only in here.”

Another quick smirk flashed across Itara’s face, which only Metal caught, as the lights stopped flashing and dimming down instead. As it dimmed, a deep red glow emanated from the painting of the bird, causing the man near it to jump and move away, drawing the attention of the others, as well.

“What…”

“What’s going on?”

“What is that?”

For whatever reason, Metal could find no discernable reason why, the group of children flocked back to him, keeping him between them and the painting. Did they think he would protect them? How funny. Itara, on the other hand, remained in place and just watched the painting with intrigue and amusement. She was hardly trying to keep it off her face.

As the darkened room drew attention from others in connecting rooms, including museum staff, the painting shifted once again, less and less subtly until the great, flaming bird turned to face directly out and screeched. Both children and adults screamed in horror around them, the man that had been closest scrambled away in terror, and the security that had run in stared in baffled confusion. The children huddled further behind Metal, who eyed them quizzically before returning his gaze to the painting, scanning it for the doll’s signature.

The oil in the painting reeled back from the bird’s flames as it neared the unseen wall between them, screeching and cawing so loudly that mobians and humans alike shielded their ears. Even Itara’s ears flattened against the noise, but she remained still as the bird’s claws and beak scratched and stabbed at the barrier of the painting. The canvas charred as flames engulfed the wooden frame, grasping at the white wall behind it. Children screamed in horror and security ran for fire extinguishers, though they had no effect on the ghostly flames spreading across the wall.

“W-We should… g-get outta here!” one of the children of the group yelped, gaining a side-eyed glance from Metal, who waved him away.

“Off with you, then. Nothing’s keeping you here.”

“But-!”

“Come on, Val, let’s just go!”

The group of five, Sceira in tow, ran yelling from the room, leaving Itara and Metal standing near the bench, watching curiously as the bird finally smashed through its barrier and screamed out of the painting, diving for the nearest security guard. Itara could feel the heat coming off its body, but as it swooped in and around the room, the lights cut out entirely for all of a split second before coming back on… and both the fire and the bird vanished. The red glow was gone and the painting, frame, and wall returned to normal. A shadow behind the painting shifted, unseen by all but Itara, who carefully set her backpack on the ground, watching the shadow skirt around the edges of the room and melt into the side of her backpack. She picked it up and returned it to her back without a word, looking up at Metal, who stared down at her incredulously. She only offered an ‘innocent’ smile before walking off towards the lobby.

“We should meet back up with our group.”

“What was even the point of that?”

“I don’t know why you’d think I’d know. I did nothing.” And yet, she sounded so utterly satisfied with herself that Metal believed exactly none of it. He would question her further about it later, answering now risked someone overhearing.

They continued out to the lobby, greeted with the staring, horrified faces of many museum patrons, much of Itara’s class, included. Itara wiped the amusement off her face quickly enough but Metal’s own look of boredom never changed.

“What was that?!”

Itara shrugged, walking back over to her terrified group, one of which was explaining everything that happened in explicit and horrified detail to the blind, confused pseudoscorpion. Camilla and Susan were amongst the group that had been standing nearby, staring, and neither Itara nor Metal missed the looks of suspicion they both gave them, though neither seemed overly concerned about it, either. None of them said anything, and as museum curators and security, alike, went running to the ‘haunted’ room, the main teacher decided it best that they skip their presentations and move on to their lunch location. It was still early and therefore the lunch they’d ordered wouldn’t be meeting them for another hour or so, but they decided it was best to let the children rest after such a ‘terrifying’ experience in a nice, open park.

Few of the children had qualms with this plan and only Susan voiced opposition to it amongst the chaperones. Ultimately, it was decided they could give their presentations during lunch to their classmates and moved out of the museum. Itara wasn’t sure how she felt about giving the presentation at a park, where more people were likely to be, but it was worth it. Sceira looked terrified.

With the class grouped back together, the smaller groups dispersed amongst the crowd again during the walk, though remained in a relatively straight line along the way. Both Metal and Itara remained near the back, not for lack of keeping up in Metal’s case, but to keep as much distance between him and the others as possible. Itara, however, was just slow. Though the city was on flatter ground than the outer edges of Soleanna, the walk was still decently long and Itara was easily the shortest amongst her classmates, even mobians. When she slowed further, incidentally falling back by Metal, he stared down at her with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m not carrying you like RK.”

Her face flushed, “I d-didn’t want you to!”

“So you’re just slow.”

“You’re slow!” His gaze turned from amused to furious at the accusation, but Itara crossed her arms and looked away, “In fact, I bet with all the damage you’ve taken, Sonic’s faster than you now.”

“Take that back.”

She was edging into dangerous territory, and almost regretted looking up at him when she did, but stubbornly doubled-down instead of doubling back. Puffing her cheeks out, she scoffed, “You’re just fast compared to RK because he’s built for impact rather than speed. I bet Sonic’s way faster than you now, being all out of shape and lazy as you are.” She glanced over, not seeing him at first, and looked back to realize he’d stopped. His eyes were narrowed dangerously and glowing brightly. Even in the bustle of the city, she could hear his systems whirring and turned all the way around, putting her hands on her hips, “what are you doing? Don’t do anyth-.” But long before she could finish her sentence, the wind was suddenly knocked clean out of her and the world rushed by in a flurry of colors and puddles of shapes. Her head spun and she felt sick to her stomach, similar to when she first learned to time travel, and reached up to grab her head.

By the time she could think to close her eyes, however, the world came crashing back into view, though her head was spinning so badly she was convinced she was still moving. She wasn’t even sure when she got put back on the ground, but felt the rough warmness of sand and the dry wind soon enough and reached out to grab onto the soft ground to try and stabilize herself again.

“Who’s slow now?”

It took her several minutes to look up at the towering, angry robot, but fell back against the sand as soon as she did, staring dizzily up at him. “B-Bite… me… S-Sparks…”

Metal huffed in amusement and stood back up straight, staring out at the wide open desert before them. The city was several miles behind them and the nearest tree several miles in the opposite direction. The wind whipped sand around and the sun beat furiously down on them, Metal grunted at his heating systems but Itara only laid and basked in the warmth. It had been so cold lately, and while the wind was still biting, the sun felt incredible. After some time, she sat back up and looked out towards the desert, watching the shifting dunes, reaching up to brush the sand from her quills.

“I found that scepter in an area similar to this, you know.”

She looked up curiously, then back out at the horizon, “I’m surprised you’ve retained that memory. RK couldn’t remember the base that I rescued him from because of the reset. I had to fill it in for him.”

There was silence again before Itara sighed and stood up, brushing the rest of her quills and clothes clean, “but to answer your earlier questions, I asked Kipper to help me get some revenge. It was 100% worth it to see the fear on Sceira’s face both when everything was happening and when it was being described to her. Plus, it might be difficult for Kipper to activate much during this trip due to the hotel room setup so I wanted to give him something to do, as well.”

“That doll is increasingly reckless considering how careful we have to be about our situation,” Metal glared back towards the backpack that housed said doll.

“Maybe… but people are more willing to overlook things when it comes to ghosts. They don’t like believing in them and will more often than not come to their own more ‘rational’ conclusion. So I think letting Kipper have some fun every so often is fine, as long as he doesn’t bother anyone in our neighborhood.”

“If you say so. Not that I care, as long as I remain out of Robotnik’s reach I couldn’t care less.”

Itara basked in the sun a bit longer before finally turning towards Metal fully, “we should return before our absence is noticed. It likely already has been…”

Metal smirked and reached down, pulling the hedgehog up by the waist, much to her displeasure, “we can just say something caught your attention.”

“Why me?”

“Because I’m not so easily distracted from a mission.”

Itara huffed, but closed her eyes as soon as she heard his systems whirring again, wanting to avoid as much dizziness as possible this time. At least she knew what was coming. She had been joking earlier about him being slow, having said it mostly to get on his nerves, but now she was actually curious what his highest speed capped out at. It could be important later. What with the monsters reappearing, Sonic being active again, and that new robot working for Robotnik, it might be best if both Sparky and RK were in prime fighting condition. Just as a precaution.

When they returned to the city again their group had only just reached the park, gathering in a larger, open area away from other people while the head teacher gave out commands regarding their ‘break’. Itara heard exactly none of anything that was being said, as she was still trying to keep her head on her shoulders after the run. Metal rejoined them as inconspicuously as possible, only running to just outside the park and then walking the rest of the way to keep as much suspicion off as he could manage. Luckily only a couple parents towards the back of the group had even noticed him walking up and paid little mind to it.

The kids were going to be given about twenty minutes to regain their bearings and discuss their presentations, whatever they had of them, and at the thirty-minute mark, they would give them, going in group number order. Metal checked his log for their own group number, and after counting the dispersing kids, realized they were the last group. That both slightly annoyed him, the idea of going last, but at the same time it mattered little to him. He wasn’t actually involved in any of this. He wasn’t going to be doing anything except staying as far away from everyone as he could get. He almost debated just going for a run around the city while Itara did her little ‘presentation’. Maybe get an updated layout of the city, for his personal records.

Having made his decision, he set Itara back down, watching her stumble for a minute, before explaining, “I’m going for a quick run. Don’t cause trouble while I’m gone.”

Itara looked up at him with an eyebrow rose, Metal smirking when her eyes were still somewhat spinning from the run. “We just got back from a run, where are you going now?”

“Wait, you’re leaving us?” Sceira questioned, catching Metal and Itara’s attention as they realized their group had rejoined them.

“Just for a couple minutes, if even that. You can handle your little project on your own, you have thus far.”

“You can’t just leave us unattended,” the scorpion argued, much to Metal’s irritation. Shouldn’t she know better than to argue with her elders? Then again, Itara argued with anyone, but he figured that was just her. As small as she appeared, she was actually much older than everyone around her. Not that she always acted like it.

“There are several adults around you, you’ll be fine. If you can’t be trusted alone for a couple minutes then perhaps you shouldn’t have been trusted on such a trip in the first place,” Metal eyed her, though realized the pointlessness of such an act when Itara not-so-subtly waved her hands in front of her own eyes. Metal studied the grey-skinned little girl for a moment, noticing the rather obvious film over her eyes and the pincers she’d pulled into pigtails. “What kind of mobian are you, exactly? You don’t look like a normal scorpion.”

“I’m not,” Sceira responded, her pincers moving up and around her, causing Itara to subconsciously flinch and step away. “Apparently I’m referred to as a ‘pseudo’ scorpion. We’re smaller and less lethal than normal scorpions; we’re also commonly blind, as you can likely tell. My father is a normal scorpion, but my mother is a pseudo.”

“Interesting…,” it was the first time Metal Sonic had seen such a creature. “In any case, I’m going to go stretch my legs. I’ll be back in two minutes, work on your projects and don’t cause trouble.” Before any of the kids could argue further, he took off in a ‘light’ jog, planning to speed up once he was out of their eyesight.

Once he was gone, Itara sighed, reaching up to scratch the back of her ear, “he’s such a problem child. Anyway, let’s get this stupid presentation thing done with already, I need a nap. And a cookie.”

Her classmates eyed her strangely, but she ignored them and pulled the worksheet from her backpack to get the presentation started. Honestly, she didn’t even know where to begin with any of it and hoped the others would do most of the work, she didn’t exactly like the idea of public speaking, she barely liked normal speaking. Unfortunately, Sceira was relentless in getting her involved, despite her many protests, and Metal had returned long before they ever finished and apparently thought it was amusing to also get her more involved than she ever needed to be. At least she managed to talk them out of having her be the main speaker, considering not even Sceira wanted to hear her stutter through it all, but she ended up writing most of the presentation. She was only glad they were going last so she had the time to tweak what they had wrong.

When it finally came time for them to present theirs, Itara remained as far back as she could manage without escaping entirely while her classmates explained the pieces they had studied at the museum. However, as they were standing in front of the entirety of the rest of their class, and Itara stared off in every other direction, something off in the distance caught her attention. It was over the line of trees behind her watching class, off to the side a bit, a small, reddish-purple creature popping up and over the trees for a second before disappearing behind them again.

She focused in on it, narrowing her eyes, ignoring her classmates now, waiting for the creature to pop up again. It wasn’t so much its appearance that struck a nerve with her… it was the energy it was giving off. It felt familiar, yet not at the same time, and she couldn’t quite place it. After a moment, the creature popped back up again, a small burgundy and white, almost fox like mobian, with little green wings. It floated above the tree line, scanned the area, and then dropped back down again. Something about it put Itara’s nerves on edge.

Luckily or not, her attention was drawn away from it when Sceira nudged her, letting her know the presentation was done and they were free to relax until lunch. It was the only positive sentence she’d ever heard from Sceira the entire time she’d known her. As the rest of her class scattered around the park, Itara marched over to Metal, who was standing under the nearest tree, his eye lit up as he stared off.

“Hey, Sparky,” she called, reaching up to smack the side of his arm, receiving a glare in return. “I need you to look into something.”

“And if I choose not to?”

Itara huffed, glaring up at him, “there’s a strange creature here with a familiar energy signature and it could be related to the other things.”

“Too bad for you, RK specifically told me to keep you out of that other things trouble. So unless it confronts us directly, I’m choosing to ignore it.”

“Why do you listen to RK so easily but ignore everything I say?!”

“Simple, I trust RK more.”

“No, you just don’t wanna get hit again,” Itara hissed.

“You think I’m afraid of RK? Please,” Metal hissed in return, “He may be built stronger, but I do not fear him. Back when we were both still active, before going rogue, he was my only sparring partner, the only other robot strong enough to fight me. I don’t fear him, I look forward to fights with him.”

“Uh-huh, sure. If you don’t fear him, then help me look into the thing.”

“I am not so easy to trick, Daughter of Mephiles. Now go play with all your kiddy friends, I have work to do.”

Itara’s spines stood on end at the insult, her fists curling as her cheeks puffed. However, instead of wasting her time with retorts, she stormed off towards the trees where she saw the creature, “fine. If you won’t look into it, I’ll do it myself.” However, before she could get far, the ground beneath her rather suddenly disappeared and she found herself face-to-face with the unamused robot, “p-put me down!”

“Not a chance. Stay where I can see you, troublemaker… and put those spines down before I start calling you a porcupine.”

“I am not a porcupine!”

Metal smirked, but set her back down, watching with amusement as she tried flattening her spines and fur but only worsened them the huffier she got, muttering angrily under her breath the entire time. Eventually, she gave up and screeched out in frustration, getting a short chuckle out of the robot. “I hate you.”

“Good. Now go play with your friends like a proper child.”

“Go jump in the ocean,” Itara growled, turning on her heel and storming off. Not necessarily towards the rest of her classmates, she had no interest in them, either, but away. Instead, she went to find a place to hide out of sight so she could talk to Kipper. On her way to find said hiding spot, however, the other source of her constant irritation cut her off, refusing to move when she threatened them to do so.

“Like I’m afraid of you,” Camilla mused, crossing her arms and standing taller, just to tower over Itara that much more. Sceira and a couple other girls from Camilla’s group were standing around her, as always. “I bet you had something to do with what happened at the art museum, didn’t you? I don’t know how, but trouble follows you like a shadow.”

“How could I possible have done that? D-Don’t be stupid,” Itara growled, not in the mood for mockery. “And I’d prefer Shadow didn’t follow me, either.” Apparently that joke went entirely over their heads as they all looked at her strangely. She briefly wondered if any of them even knew who Shadow was. As involved as he often was with bigger problems, he wasn’t exactly as well-known as Sonic. She rolled her eyes but took a step towards them, intending to walk past them, but neither Camilla nor any of the others moved out of her way.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Itara remained silent for a moment, going over several possible responses, eventually looking up and grinning, “Oh, you know, just off to reawaken an Ancient God so it can destroy the world. Nowhere interesting.” She hoped that came off as much of a joke as she mostly meant it, but worried for a couple minutes that they might take her seriously. While the Ancient Gods were active lately, she had nothing to do with it for once. Though she wouldn’t put it past Camilla or Sceira to try and pin it on her somehow, anyway.

Not that she wouldn’t love to show them her true power someday, either.

Someday, if she ever got full control of her powers again, she wanted to show them why they should fear her. Show them the mistakes they’ve been making, by ostracizing her so much. Even her ‘guardians’ were two Robotnik-created ex-killer robots, one of which assisted her in destroying the world once before. Just because they were trying to lay low now, just because she didn’t have her powers anymore, didn’t mean they were average in any way. Didn’t mean they shouldn’t be feared.

But that wasn’t an example she could give at the time. For now, she just had to hope Camilla picked up on her sarcasm and didn’t push it any further.

Camilla stared her down, but as she spoke again, a distant, inaudible shout from across the field drew both their attention… a few seconds too late as a bright red disk careened directly at them. The speeding round object struck Itara dead in the middle of the forehead first, bounding off and cracking against Camilla’s face, sending both of them crashing back into the dirt, more so from the shock and panic rather than the force of the plastic object lying between them.

There was a moment of silence as a small group of classmates sped over, likely the ones throwing the Frisbee, before a chorus of barely contained laughter broke out. There were only giggles from the girls that had been following Camilla, though Sceira stood in confused silence, but from the parents and kids that had caught sight of the event, muffled laughter erupted. Some less muffled than others. The kids that were running over apologized, trying not to join the laughter, while Susan bolted over to check on Camilla.

“I’m so sorry!” the boy at the lead of the Frisbee group exclaimed, swiping his Frisbee up and hiding it behind his back, “I didn’t mean to throw it that hard! Are you two okay?”

Camilla recovered quicker than Itara, who scowled hatefully up at the boy, her mom helping her up and obsessively checking for injuries. “That hurt, you jerk!”

“I’m sorry!”

Itara shook her head, reaching up to rub her forehead and briefly scowled up at the boy before pushing herself up to her feet, “next time just aim for Camilla and leave me out of it.” She was done with everything today already, including this entire conversation, she was leaving. She waited until Camilla and Susan created a ruckus before slipping away from all of them, half feeling sorry for the boy who threw the Frisbee. As much as that hurt, she somehow felt the brute force of the other two’s rage was too harsh of a punishment for knocking Camilla over, especially considering Camilla only got the bounce. But she wasn’t overly concerned with it, either. She wanted to find her quiet spot away from everyone to talk to Kipper.

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