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theendorisit · 2 months ago

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magnus protocol season 1 final part - praise and credits

all right my haunted maggot clowns, Season 1 is OVER, we are at our Magnus protocol hiatus until FEB 2025 and you know what that means?

No, not hysterical weeping!

It’s time to recap the last ten episodes, epilogue and fluff of Season 1, so SPOILERS AHOY!! Including TMA Spoilers. If you haven’t listened, come back later! Ok? Ok!

Part 1 (eps 1-20) is here:

All praises to the guest writers:

Harlan Guthrie, for more of his work visit https://www.malevolent.ca/

Alex C Telander, for more of his work visit https://ostiumnetwork.com/

Muna Hussen, for more of her work visit https://www.thesiltverses.com/ I honestly cannot rave enough about how much I adore The Silt Verses, strongly recommend to everyone.

If you have enjoyed the guest writers, I also recommend the Nine To Midnight annual series, lots of writers, all brought together by Harlan Guthrie: https://linktr.ee/ninetomidnight - Check it out! This years halloween episode is GOING TO BE AMAZING!

The Magnus Protocol Episode 21 – Breaking Ground

CAT2RBC4254-04011998-12042024 Architecture (landmark) -/- corruption (entropy)

Written by Jonathan Sims

Script Editing by Alexander J Newall

Thoughts: Intriguing case, I enjoyed it thoroughly, though as a Brit it is very disconcerting hearing about the millennium dome in a horror context. It’s like a fleshy bouncy castle. Spooky, but also plain weird. Hello, Dr Welling. Of course the star of this episode is the consequences of Gwen trying (failing) to be authoritarian. Delightful escalation of Ink5oul’s powers, as the mere presence of a tattoo can be manipulated. I adore Magnus stories for the implications they provide - what might a scorpion tattoo do, hmmm? Crawl under the skin? After all, some scorpions can burrow up to 2m underneath the surface, using complex tunnels. Sting and sting and sting again until death? Mind you, some scorpions only paralyse their prey, before they feast. The compulsion scene is delightful, amazing performance by Anusia, and ALL OF THEM, MINE: So amazing, giving me shivers. All of them: All people? All normies? All OIAR? We’re back in the terror, the horror, the mystery, compelling statements again.

The Magnus Protocol Episode 22 - Mixed Signals

CAT13RBC4488-14121924-15042024 Experiment (brain) -/- imprisonment (existential)

Written by Jonathan Sims

Script Editing by Alexander J Newall

Thoughts: I love existential horror. What makes a person a person after all? If there’s someone screaming in pain and terror and loneliness but you never hear them, see them, know of them - do you know, or care, of their personhood at all? Also, as with Archives, the question of why we’re hearing about certain cases is floating in the air. There are certainly voices speaking in the void, yet unable to make themselves heard. Office tensions are rising, we are getting some juicy backstory hints. Shahan and Billie getting some real frustration into their voices, Sarah and Anusia have all the terse company-line bullshit vibes and I love Lowri’s conspiratorial name-dropping bombshell to a mood-killing baffled response.

The Magnus Protocol Episode 23 - A New You

CAT13RBC3536-20062018-18042024 Transformation (dysmorphic) -/-doppleganger (infection)

Written by Harlan Guthrie, for more of his work visit https://www.malevolent.ca/

Script Editing by Alexander J Newall and Jonathan Sims 

Thoughts: One of my top three episodes in Season 1. This case makes my heart sing. It’s delightful, insidious body horror, with a sweet side of social commentary. What’s not to adore? And a piece of coral (a living skeleton with multiple identical lifeforms inside) being referred to as She is so intriguing to me. I feel I could spent a long time trying to unpick the nuances of this piece. Especially as there’s a key story element in the fact that something goes wrong at the end, and the forum mods don’t want other people to know. So far things have felt every individual and separate… but maybe things are more connected than we think? Do we have cults and followings like in Archives? On a related note, ngl I cackled when JS and MB’s fates were revealed because I know Jonny and Alex had fun writing that. However, I don’t trust such suspiciously merciful deaths, at all. (Also, were those deaths a Koji Suzuki reference? Hmm) Wonderful performances from Anusia and Billie in the final scene.

The Magnus Protocol Episode 24 - Raising Issues

CAT1RBC1375-29022024-23042024 Baby (demonic) -/- Delusion (exhaustion)

Written by Alex C Telander, for more of his work visit https://ostiumnetwork.com/

Script Editing by Alexander J Newall and Jonathan Sims 

Thoughts: This is the first time a Magnus episode has made me physically cringe in sympathetic pain. Please keep the demon child that wants to chew through my tit and into my chest cavity far away from me. Nope, no, nuh-uh, nah mate, f* off with that nonsense. The medical gaslighting, the exhaustion and the dark acceptance of pain, oof. Plus the new parent not-knowing-if-this-normal? Brutal. Painful realism came in kicking with this one, and it’s very good. Also, demon baby likes Celia. Lady Mowbray likes Celia. Celia is an external magnet. I enjoy the multi-person dialogues in Protocol, everyone giving their best, reminds me of the intervention scene in early Archives. Also, yay, Basira! I love Plummy Teacher Basira, she’s so baffled by these two randomers. Great performance by Frank Voss.

The Magnus Protocol Episode 25 - Gut Feelings

CAT2RB2474-07022024-24042024 Food (Gorging ) -/- compulsion (disgust)

Written by Jonathan Sims

Script Editing by Alexander J Newall

Thoughts: Ah, the McWeevil episode. Tasty. There are all sorts of wonderful implications here that I dare not type in case someone is eating while reading. Also I love the dance we’re doing with the old consent/compulsion/choice dynamic. In Archives many people tried and failed to escape from horrors (shout out to Robin Lennox), but there have been quite a few cases in Protocol with the victim struggling and managing to walk away (though with unclear consequences - the OIAR team aren’t doing follow-up in the same way as Archives). Also Colin, Colin my sweet, you might be the most sensible person in this universe, but this sort of thing will only get you murderised. I love Ryan’s acting, such a desperately agonised breakdown, which you can see a bit of here: https://youtu.be/xlERmS-okTI The universe persists in teleporting Celia towards Oxford for shits and giggles.

The Magnus Protocol Episode 26 - Catching Up

CAT1RBC4463-14042024-02052024 Exhaustion (athletic) -/- compulsion (tape)

Written by Muna Hussen, for more of her work visit https://www.thesiltverses.com/

Script Editing by Alexander J Newall and Jonathan Sims 

Thoughts: Magnussing - creator approved! I really enjoyed this case, because Mr Jarrod is set up as a mysterious figure, like what’s this guys deal - nvm, he’s fucked. The character narration (as a witness statement) is engaging and draws you in, right down to the horrible end. I can’t recommend Muna’s writing enough. Alice connects all the dots together, and we get the wonderful Imogen Harris as Helen again. I am increasingly wondering why some people seem identical to their Archives counterparts, and others are quite different. Is it a natural variation? Does it mean something. Also, while I love Helen’s laugh, I kind of wanted Helen to finish with ‘come back anytime, my door is always open!’ (too on the nose perhaps). Celia, get the tory baby to sleep, it’s sexy time. “with additional voices from Jonathan Sims.” Alright, it’s official that Jonny’s making the baby burbling noises (/silly).

The Magnus Protocol Episode 27 - Driven

CAT3RB5535-18021845-10052024 Kidnapping (carriage) -/- consumption [letter]

Written by Jonathan Sims

Script Editing by Alexander J Newall

Thoughts: Another one of my top three episodes in Season 1! On the same theme as above, Jonah is a twat in this universe too! I wonder who ’N’ is. Victorian Paranormal Monster Pursuit? Yes please, more please! Such delightful gore, very delectable, much fun. So many thoughts on how such a monster would hide in our world. And ‘no cost too great’ indeed. The ancient Magnus rite of sacrificing assistants reigns eternal. Curious emphasis on ‘if there are already such monsters in this world’. Hmmm. Maybe the gap in reality has been discovered? Ooh, weird emails. Sam, now Gwen. Very interesting that Celia, having been repeatedly teleported towards Oxford, now wants to take Sam to Oxford. Something will get revealed…

The Magnus Protocol Episode 28 - Interruptions

CAT2RB2578-17081998-13052024 Transmutation (human) -/- ceremony (academic)

Written by Jonathan Sims

Script Editing by Alexander J Newall 

Thoughts: Goodbye Dr Welling. And this, children, is why we don’t roll a critical fail when casting reanimate dead. It’s spooky scary skeleton time, and Sam dun fucked up. Though honestly, if I had experienced something this traumatic as a result of wandering off into a place I wasn’t supposed to be, I don’t know, I think I might have a severe aversion to doing that? Sam, wtf is wrong with your trauma response? Though I am curious on the mechanics of statements - are people only saying things they know, or can information they’ve long forgotten be brought up? 10/10 case, superb, love it. Every episode is getting me hyped. Gwen doesn’t take shit lying down, and while corralling externals is not her forte, backstabbing office politics clearly is. I love Ian’s brusque minster, it’s pretty damn accurate and really gets me in the room with the characters.

The Magnus Protocol Episode 29 - Keyed In

CAT2RB4254-30012020-13052024 Drowning (subterranean) -/- key (metaphor)

Written by Alexander J Newall

Script Editing by Jonathan Sims 

Thoughts: Now something else (not Celia) is pushing Sam to go to Oxford. Interesting. Alex makes Jonny try to pronounce things in Czech. This is a curious case, and I think it’s speaking to keeping secrets, unlocking doors you can’t close again, and the floodwaters are rising. All things Gwen needs to hear. The fact that Lena considers that the Visit went well, ouch. Also, I am convinced Teddy is working for the Response part of the OIAR, and he’s the one dropping off Sam’s weird paperwork. That ending: DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUUN…. (Alice, just pop over to Victoria, get the Oxford Tube, it’ll drop you off in Headington, it’s fiiiiiine). Presumbly the archivist got the train down from Manchester in the first time. Perhaps it has a (Communications) Network Railcard?

The Magnus Protocol Episode 30 - Dead End Job

CAT2RS3366-13052024-13052024 Transmutation (human) -/- Isolation (urban)

Written by Jonathan Sims

Script Editing by Alexander J Newall

Thoughts: Light a candle for the Scottish in the Magnus Multiverse, they are doomed. Ryan’s performance broke my heart. Robin as the custodian is a gem, and then he’s the hilltop golem. Spectacular sound design. Turns out the Welsh aren’t doing so hot either. Lena moonwalks backwards out of the whole situation, Gwen, yer fucked, luv. IT IS MINE - Is this Celia being an external magnet or is the rift what the Archivist is actually after? Makes sense, an entire multiverse of suffering would definitely be satisfying! Plus see previous comment about Magnus Institute and the rift.

London Exclusion Zone has a delightful 28 days later ring to it. I do hope this means what I think it does: that Celia is wrong and the wound is not a pathway to her world but to any world. Which means we’re in Magnus Mk 3, and there could be ANOTHER Jonathan Sims here. In fact, wouldn’t it be something amazing, if here was a world where the Archivist succeeded in taking over as the conduit, and managed to control the horrors into a smaller area, namely London? If so, fucking brilliant, cannot wait… a few weeks until the premiere, and my relentless hunger for lore is satiated.

The Magnus Protocol Season 1 Epilogue

Written by Jonathan Sims

Script Editing by Alexander J Newall

Thoughts: Anusia and Billie smashed this one, some great emotional beats and as they now comprise 66% of the office staff (assuming Celia doesn’t just book it), I’m looking forward to watching their dynamic change over the next season. Important point: apparently there was a full description of the horrors that were seen, but we don’t get to hear it. Yet. Maybe. So until we do, all that happened was that Gwen yanks out a server rack, the phone rings, and Alice says ‘oh Colin...’ because she can see that Colin has been relentlessly ringing his exes and sending dick pics to everyone. Gwen screams because she spots Colin, drunk out of his mind and naked on the floor, having broken into Lena’s other secret alcohol stash (she has like 5 of them).

Colin in Season 1: Dinnae fash yersel', I'll sort out this machine!

Epilogue: Did ye, aye?

(But yeah, I’m mid way between gruesome flesh packed inside the servers, with hairy skin peeling off the circuits like lichen on tree bark, or Colin being in the phone, like the ringing brings up a picture of his face that’s been flensed and matrixed with wires and LEDs, because whatever happened, it was a) not immediately obvious, aka the room isn’t splattered with gore, and b) immediately obvious that it was Colin. So either his face is on show, or a defining feature like a tattoo.)

The Magnus Protocol Season 1 Fluff

Written by Jonathan Sims (except that intro and ending, that is clearly all Alex)

Script Editing by Alexander J Newall

Thoughts: Alex, you are a delight. Never change. All the characters are absolute train wrecks, and we are here for them (and their pain and suffering)

Featuring (in order of appearance), and where you can support them:

Lowri Ann Davies as Celia Ripley (https://x.com/lowritweets?lang=en)

Shahan Hamza as Samama Khalid (https://linktr.ee/shahanhamza)

Billie Hindle as Alice Dyer (want to support gender affirming treatment for a trans creator? https://ko-fi.com/F1F2XMJRD plus check out Billie’s latest role: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7eDt3bYqDT0)

Sarah Lambie as Lena Kelley (https://x.com/baabuzz)

Anusia Battersby as Gwendolyn Bouchard (@anouchard, https://x.com/AnusiaBattersby)

Vera Chok as Ink5oul (https://x.com/Vera_Chok)

Callum Dougherty as Bystander (https://rustyquill.com/crew/callum-dougherty/)

Beth Eyre as Archivist/[ERROR] (https://x.com/BethEyre)

Tim Fearon as Augustus (I think: https://www.mandy.com/u/tim-fearon/)

Jonathan Sims as Chester (@jonnywaistcoat, @macguffinandco, https://www.patreon.com/macguffinandcompany/posts)

Alexander J Newall as Norris (@rqbossman)

Faye Derham as Mother (https://www.imdb.com/name/nm8335409/)

Frank Voss as Basira Hussain (https://x.com/AvoidedDrowning)

Ryan Hopevere-Anderson as Colin Becher (https://linktr.ee/ryanhopevereanderson)

Mark Nicolson as Ticket Attendant

Imogen Harris as Helen Richardson (https://x.com/ImogenCHarris)

Ian Hayles as Trevor Herbert MP (https://x.com/IanHayles)

Kazeem Tosin Amore as Teddy Vaughn (https://x.com/KazeemAmore)

Kai Partenie as Ticket Officer (https://www.instagram.com/kai0997)

Pip Gladwin as Taxi Driver (https://x.com/pip_gladwin)

Robin Hellier as Custodian (I think: https://robinhellier.com/#qualifications-credits)

Executive Producers April Sumner, Alexander J Newall, Jonathan Sims, Dani McDonough, Linn Ci, and Samantha F.G. Hamilton

Associate Producers Jordan L. Hawk, Taylor Michaels, Nicole Perlman, Cetius d’Raven, and Megan Nice

Produced by April Sumner

Dialogue Editor – Lowri Ann Davies

Sound Designer – Tessa Vroom

Mastering Editor - Catherine Rinella

Music by Sam Jones (orchestral mix by Jake Jackson)

Art by April Sumner

Fabulous work everyone! See you at the Premiere!

Official transcripts:

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dastardly-homo-writing · 1 year ago

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(Queer) Pride and Prejudice || Chapter Six

note: from here on, the chapters will begin to have some more deviations from/additions to the original text :)

____________________

Chapter Six: Ms. Darcy May Not Be as Void of Emotion as We Thought

It was generally evident whenever they met, that Ms. Bingley did admire Jane and to Lezzie it was equally evident that Jane was yielding to the preference which she had begun to entertain for her from the first, and was in a way to be very much in love; but she considered with pleasure that it was not likely to be discovered by the world in general, since Jane united, with great strength of feeling, a composure of temper and a uniform cheerfulness of manner which would guard her from the suspicions of the impertinent. She mentioned this to her friend Miss Lucas.

“It may perhaps be pleasant,” replied Charlotte, “to be able to impose on the public in such a case; but it is sometimes a disadvantage to be so very guarded. If a woman conceals her affection with the same skill from the object of it, she may lose the opportunity of fixing the subject of her affection; and it will then be but poor consolation to believe the world equally in the dark. There is so much of gratitude or vanity in almost every attachment, that it is not safe to leave any to itself. We can all begin freely—a slight preference is natural enough; but there are very few of us who have heart enough to be really in love without encouragement. In nine cases out of ten a women had better show more affection than she feels. Bingley likes your sister undoubtedly; but she may never do more than like her, if she does not help her on.”

“But Jane does help her on, as much as her nature will allow. If I can perceive her regard for Ms. Bingley, she must be a simpleton, indeed, not to discover it too.”

“Remember, Lezzie, that Ms. Bingley does not know Jane’s disposition as you do.”

“But if a woman is partial to another, and does not endeavour to conceal it, she must find it out. Slow burn simply does us no good.”

“I should agree on the last part, but let us be realistic, dear Lezzie. In my experience, it simply cannot be helped when both parties are trapped in a question of uncertain reciprocity. Of this you should be well aware. But perhaps Ms. Bingley shall realize, if she sees enough of her. Ms. Bingley does seem the type of woman to take the lead once she is reassured in Jane’s interest. But, though the two meet tolerably often, it is never for many hours together; and, as they always see each other in large mixed parties, it is impossible that every moment should be employed in conversing together. Jane should therefore make the most of every half-hour in which she can command her attention. When she is secure of her, there will be more leisure for falling in love as much as she chooses.”

“Your plan is a good one,” replied Lezzie, “where nothing is in question but the desire of being well married, and if I were determined to get a rich partner, or any partner, I dare say I should adopt it. But these are not Jane’s feelings; she is not acting by design. As yet, she cannot even be certain of the degree of her own regard nor of its reasonableness. She has known her only a fortnight. She danced four dances with her at Meryton; she saw her one morning at her own house, and has since dined with her in company four times. This is not quite enough to make her understand Ms. Bingley’s character. All of these instances combined make up a total time that is less than that of a typical lesbian excursion.”

“It is not enough time only as you represent it. Had she merely dined with her, she might only have discovered whether she had a good appetite; but you must remember that four evenings have also been spent together—and four evenings may do a great deal. Together that is an amount of time significant enough for them to have discussed painting, poetry, and their adoration for pet cats.”

“You fancy Ms. Bingley to be the sort of woman to have an appreciation for poetry!”

“Why, you must agree that her earnest temperament might suit it.”

“Perhaps so; if true, I imagine she should read only the happiest and dullest of poems. But, I should admit, all the better for her compatibility with my sister. In any case; these four evenings have enabled them to ascertain that they both prefer violets to roses; but with respect to any other leading characteristic, I do not imagine that much has been unfolded.”

“Well,” said Charlotte, “I wish Jane success with all my heart; and if she were married to her to-morrow, I should think she had as good a chance of happiness as if she were to be studying her character for a twelveweek. Happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance. If the dispositions of the parties are ever so well known to each other or ever so similar beforehand, it does not advance their felicity in the least. They always continue to grow sufficiently unlike afterwards to have their share of vexation; and it is better to know as little as possible of the defects of the person with whom you are to pass your life.”

“You make me laugh, Charlotte; but it is not sound. You know it is not sound, and that you would never act in this way yourself.”

Occupied in observing Ms. Bingley’s attentions to her sister, Lezzie was far from suspecting that she was herself becoming an object of some interest in the eyes of her friend. Ms. Darcy had at first scarcely allowed her to be pretty; they had looked at her without admiration at the ball; and when they next met, they looked at her only to criticise. But no sooner had they made it clear to themself and their friends that she hardly had a good feature in her face, than they began to find it was rendered uncommonly intelligent by the beautiful expression of her dark eyes. To this discovery succeeded some others equally mortifying. Though they had detected with a critical eye more than one failure of perfect symmetry in her form, they was forced to acknowledge her figure to be pleasing; and in spite of their asserting that her manners were not those of the fashionable world, they were caught by her easy playfulness. Of this she was perfectly unaware; to her they were only the person who made themself agreeable nowhere, and who had not thought her handsome enough to dance with.

Ms. Darcy began to wish to know more of her, and as a step towards conversing with her themself, attended to her conversation with others. Their doing so drew her notice. It was at Sir William Lucas’s, where a large party were assembled.

“What does Ms. Darcy mean,” said she to Charlotte, “by listening to my conversation with Colonel Forster?”

“That is a question which Ms. Darcy only can answer.”

“But if they do it any more I shall certainly let them know that I see what they are about. They have a very satirical eye, and if I do not begin by being impertinent myself, I shall soon grow afraid of them.”

On their approaching them soon afterwards, though without seeming to have any intention of speaking, Miss Lucas defied her friend to mention such a subject to him; which immediately provoking Lezzie to do it, she turned to them and said:

“Did you not think, Ms. Darcy, that I expressed myself uncommonly well just now, when I was teasing Colonel Forster to give us a ball at Meryton?”

“With great energy; but it is always a subject which makes a lady such as yourself energetic.”

“And, pray tell, what sort of lady would that be?”

Ms. Darcy went to speak but then paused, catching Lezzie’s eyes with their own.

“It will be her turn soon to be teased,” said Miss Lucas, recapturing her good friend’s attention. “I am going to open the instrument, Lezzie, and you know what follows.”

“You are a very strange creature by way of a friend!—always wanting me to play and sing before anybody and everybody! If my vanity had taken a musical turn, you would have been invaluable; but as it is, I would really rather not sit down before those who must be in the habit of hearing the very best performers.” On Miss Lucas’s persevering, however, she added, “Very well, if it must be so, it must.” And gravely glancing once more at Ms. Darcy, “There is a fine old saying, which everybody here is of course familiar with: ‘Keep your breath to cool your porridge’; and I shall keep mine to swell my song.”

Her performance was pleasing, though by no means capital. She aligned with more radical economic-political beliefs. After a song or two, and before she could reply to the entreaties of several that she would sing again, she was eagerly succeeded at the instrument by her sister Mary, who having, in consequence of being the only plain one in the family, worked hard for knowledge and accomplishments, was always impatient for display.

Mary had neither genius nor taste; and though vanity had given her application, it had given her likewise a pedantic air and conceited manner, which would have injured a higher degree of excellence than she had reached. Lezzie, easy and unaffected, had been listened to with much more pleasure, though not playing half so well; and Mary, at the end of a long concerto, was glad to purchase praise and gratitude by Scotch and Irish airs, at the request of her younger sisters, who, with some of the Lucases, and two or three officers, joined eagerly in dancing at one end of the room.

Ms. Darcy stood near them in silent indignation at such a mode of passing the evening, to the exclusion of all conversation, and was too much engrossed by their thoughts to perceive that Sir William Lucas was his neighbour, till Sir William thus began:

“What a charming amusement for young people this is, Ms. Darcy! There is nothing like dancing after all. I consider it as one of the first refinements of polished society.”

“Certainly, sir; and it has the advantage also of being in vogue amongst the less polished social groupings of the world. Every heterosexual can dance.”

Sir William only smiled, taking no offence. “Your friend performs delightfully,” he continued after a pause, on seeing Bingley join the group; “and I doubt not that you are an adept in the science yourself, Ms. Darcy.”

“You saw me dance at Meryton, I believe, sir.”

“Yes, indeed, and received no inconsiderable pleasure from the sight. Do you often dance at St. James’s?”

“Never, sir.”

“Do you not think it would be a proper compliment to the place?”

“It is a compliment which I never pay to any place if I can avoid it.”

“You have a house in town, I conclude?”

Ms. Darcy bowed.

“I had once had some thought of fixing in town myself—for I am fond of superior society; but I did not feel quite certain that the air of London would agree with Lady Lucas.”

He paused in hopes of an answer; but his companion was not disposed to make any; and Lezzie at that instant moving towards them, he was struck with the action of doing a very gallant thing, and called out to her:

“My dear Miss Lezzie, why are you not dancing? Ms. Darcy, you must allow me to present this young lady to you as a very desirable partner. You cannot refuse to dance, I am sure when so much beauty is before you.” And, taking her hand, he would have given it to Ms. Darcy who, though extremely surprised, was not unwilling to receive it, when she instantly drew back, and said with some discomposure to Sir William:

“Indeed, sir, I have not the least intention of dancing. I entreat you not to suppose that I moved this way in order to beg for a partner.”

Ms. Darcy, with grave propriety and newly straightened posture, requested to be allowed the honour of her hand, but in vain. Lezzie was determined; nor did Sir William at all shake her purpose by his attempt at persuasion.

“You excel so much in the dance, Miss Lezzie, that it is cruel to deny me the happiness of seeing you; and though this fellow dislikes the amusement in general, they can have no objection, I am sure, to oblige us for one half-hour.”

“Ah, Ms. Darcy is all politeness,” said Lezzie, smiling.

“They are, indeed; but, considering the inducement, my dear Miss Lezzie, we cannot wonder at his complaisance—for who would object to such a partner?”

Lezzie looked archly, and turned away. Her resistance had not injured her with the raven-haired butch, and they were thinking of her with some complacency, when thus accosted by Miss Bingley:

“I can guess the subject of your reverie.”

“I should imagine not.”

“You are considering how insupportable it would be to pass many evenings in this manner—in such society; and indeed I am quite of your opinion. I was never more annoyed! The insipidity, and yet the noise—the nothingness, and yet the self-importance of all those people! What would I give to hear your strictures on them!”

“You conjecture is totally wrong, I assure you. My mind was more agreeably engaged. I have been meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty person can bestow.”

Miss Bingley immediately fixed her eyes on their face, and desired they would tell her what lady had the credit of inspiring such reflections. Ms. Darcy replied with great intrepidity:

“Miss Lezzie Bennet.”

“Miss Lezzie Bennet!” repeated Miss Bingley. “I am all astonishment. How long has she been such a favourite?—and pray, when am I to wish you joy?”

“That is exactly the question which I expected you to ask. A lady of your interests has an imagination most rapid. It jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony, in a moment. I knew you would be wishing me joy.”

“Nay, if you are serious about it, I shall consider the matter is absolutely settled. You will be having a charming mother-in-law, indeed; and, of course, she will always be at Pemberley with you.”

They listened to her with perfect indifference while she chose to entertain herself in this manner; and as their composure convinced her that all was safe, her wit flowed long.

#(queer) pride and prejudice #lesbian #pride and prejudice #queer #darcy #jane austen #literature #mr darcy #butch

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floofrights · 1 year ago

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what is the canonicity of key art and promotional images for moves and TV shows? do you believe the characters are actually aware and experiencing the situation the promos put them in, or do you believe they are merely blank, mindless puppets in a void?

do you believe that the Simpsons characters at some point decided to ride on swings that came from the sky? do you believe the characters are aware of where they are? of what they're doing? do they look back fondly on doing this?

are walt and jesse aware that they are in a blank, mysterious void? does this bother them? are they trapped? canon wise, what are they staring at? They couldn't possibly be staring at us, as we are not canon in the Breaking Bad universe. is there anything behind those piercing eyes? or are they merely drones, content with posing for promos for their in-universe adventures?

what are they staring at? do they know their status? or they blissfully unaware they are being used as tools to market the world they live in?

and that brings up another topic. when a piece of media is named after the main character, it's making a definitive statement about the in-universe.

If a bully character says to Hilda, "Hey, you're stupid! Go fuck yourself!," that character is essentially spitting in the face of God, and they are completely unaware of that fact. They could grow up to live a successful life, with a wife and children, but their life would always be defined in the context of the main character, whether they know it or not.

there truly would be no escape. every day I am thankful that I am real, and that I never have to feel the pain of being a fictitious character, destined to an empty and cold life, while being completely unaware of the fact.

anyway I finished watching The Simpsons Season Ten yesterday, there's some decent episodes in there, like "Wild Barts...", "Mom and Pop Art", "Lisa Gets an A", and the Treehouse of Horror, but I think most of the episodes are just, okay. It's similar quality wise to Season Nine, but I think I'd rank that season slightly above Season Ten. There's a couple more stinkers in here than the previous season, such as "Homer Simpson in: Kidney Trouble," and especially "Make Room for Lisa", which I would consider to be the worst episode of the season, which is a real shame because I usually like Homer and Lisa episode, but this one was just too mean spirited for my taste, and the ending almost seems to try and justify that mean spiritedness? Whatever it sucks, but anyway yeah Season Ten is okay.

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backhandtrebond · 2 years ago

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Shadows

9 months after the Cage

Torture was such a messy word; inelegant, even. It suggested dingy rooms and sharp objects, and while not an entirely unfounded impression, there was a sort of depressing artistry to it in Griam Prison. For all the skill Mariah and her assistants brought to bear, however, the Celestial creations known as Godsbloods had loyalty built-in, and proved early-on that pain would never be enough to pull information from their lips.

So, they turned to Crow.

“Hello, Jier.” Crow was already seated when the guards dragged in the Godsblood, pearly drops of blood adding to the lingering scent of ozone. “I hear you’ve refused to tell the Warrior and her friends here what Haelm’s up to.” A particularly cruel god of trickery, Haelm had proven elusive even by the already spectacular standards set by his ilk. They had one lead, and this was it.

The Celestial slumped into the hard chair, staring listlessly at the table between them. “I am Godsblood. My being is divinity and duty.”

“So we’ve heard. A lot.”

“I am Godsblood. My-”

“Yes, alright, I get the point. Crow took a moment to admire the network of fine scars across the other man’s skin- Mariah or James, for such precise work. “You won’t talk to us voluntarily, and Griam’s usual methods have failed to pry the secrets from you, so here we sit.” The gentle smile fell from his face, replaced with an expressionless mask. “This is your last chance, Jier. I walk out that door, and you will regret it.”

Meeting his eyes for a moment, Jier flinched from the soft glow he found there. “I am a Go-”

Crow didn’t bother listening to the rest. With a wave of his arm, the room seemed to vanish from around them. “Goodbye, Jier.” He too vanished, leaving the Godsblood in an empty void.

Looking around himself, Jier found only endless white in all directions. He tried to stand, stumbling slightly before realising that he was already on his feet. When had that happened? He put a hand out to where the table had been, heart thumping noisily. There was nothing there. He took a step, then another, then a few more. No resistance. Whatever the rebel had done, he decided, it must have gone wrong. He was free to escape this place and find his master.

Four days later, he had entirely changed his mind. The void was infinite. Without any landmarks, or even a horizon to navigate by, he couldn’t even be sure he had gone further than a few feet. He stopped even trying to get out after day two. There was no food here, no water, no people. Nothing but himself.

Sitting opposite him, Crow counted seconds under his breath. It would be so much easier to just climb inside the Godsblood’s head, he knew. But he’d made a promise, and this would at least give the man a chance to recover.

By day ten, Jier stopped trying to break his skull against what passed for ground. Instead, he just lay waiting to die, hoping that this place would let him.

“Twenty-nine, thirty.” Crow waved his arm a second time, and Jier started screaming. “I imagine he’ll tell Mariah anything she wants to know, if you could take him to her?” The guards nodded, grabbing the Godsblood’s arms and dragging his convulsing form from the room. Crow started counting again. When he reached twenty, he calmly stood, closed the door, and vomited into a steel bucket in the corner. Wiping the cold sweat from his forehead, he flushed Jier’s residual emotion from the room, holding back the tide of mental anguish.

His own was more than enough.

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theenemyod · 7 months ago

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Idk my head cannons for Verity are a mess but the basic reason is she saw way too much violence and death at a young age, plus other issues.

I headcannon she originally lived in Spain (Torres is a Spanish last name which is where that comes from) but was forced to leave at about nine years old when she discovered she was a Makar, the moment the magisterium she managed to find a safe place in discovered she was a Makar they forced her to fight in a war and she was like ten at the time but kept a brave face and everything because everyone expects her to be a hero and she saw a lot of stuff -- chaos ridden killing everyone violently with a lot of gore as they don't have magic or weapons so they were basically tearing everything apart with their bare hands, she saw Constantine attacking just about everything and not even paying attention to what he was sending into the void, the mages fighting back but dying, and even children her own age or just a little bit older being sent to their deaths, and no one checked in on her because they felt like paying too much attention and too much pressure on Constantine might have played a part in breaking him so were doing the opposite then, but because of that she couldn't speak up about it, after too long she started letting everything out in attacks as violet as she'd seen on the battlefield, and she'd already thought of herself as dangerous because of her home country trying to execute her for dangerous powers and the maged using her as a weapon and so didn't know what else to do but attack. She didn't know how else to cope or even what else magic could be used for.

Headcannon Verity Torres was probably more evil and crazy than Constantine and it shey didn't die she would've joined him but instead just killed whoever she felt like while fighting and in the most brutal ways possible and the only person she had any sort of friendship or relationship with that isn't enemies was her counterweight and she would fucking kill for her counterweight. Also she was not sad when she died and only angry when she found out her counterweight was also killed.

#i don’t think this post makes sense but whatever #verity torres #headcannon #Magisterium

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meiloorun-notthefruit · 5 years ago

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let it be known that on September 23rd, 2019, at 9:37 in the morning on my way to my Intro to Politics class, I finally winessed Nine regenerate into Ten.

Did the fans who first watch it happen also feel as devasted as I do now, seeing it, or is that just me?

#there is a void in my being where nine used to be. i know ten is great and all and that's where the romance is but i don't think im going #to get over nine anytime soon #nineth doctor #christopher eccleston #tenth doctor #david tennant #i miss nine #i'm not going to be able to keeo a straight face looking at the docotor now that he's david tennant/ten

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jinxhallows · 2 years ago

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Uninvited [ Part X ]

Uninvited. a short-ish series ft. Felix, Chan and Hyunjin (& a sprinkle of Jisung for a little razzle dazzle)

cw: 100% AU, afab reader, blood and gore descriptions, ritual self-bloodletting, supernatural creature themes/tropes, vampire theme/tropes, hybrid theme/tropes.

word count: 4.4k

part one -> click here

part two -> click here

part three (explicit content) -> click here

part four -> click here

part five (explicit content) -> click here

part six -> click here

part seven -> click here

part eight -> click here

part nine -> click here

-----

**taglist <3 (If I missed anyone let me know! it wasnt on purpose i tried to comb all my posts and make sure )

@planetdemon ; @a-person-with-void ; @haleyms ; @wonhottcakes ; @hydroyaksha ; @just-randomm-stuff ; @sooinvu ; @ninjaleeknow ; @thegoddessharmony ; @kittycatkrissa ; @ominous-crow ;

——–

Part Ten

Little witch…

A cramp in your stomach causes your body to lurch forward with a gasp.

Jisung is beside you, holding a makeshift torch in his hand. You look around, beyond where you sat, and you can see nothing but surrounding vast, dark woods. Albeit, vibrantly.

The only source of light is from Jisung’s flame.

“I didn’t think you’d make it here.” He finally speaks breathlessly, a look of deep concern settling into his round features. Jisung stands to his feet and offers you his hand, helping you back up to your feet once more.

“Make it—where?” You look around, still grimacing from the cramps.

Were you doomed to this kind of pain in the afterlife too?

The afterlife.

Everything sweeps over you, and you look Jisung up and down in disbelief.

“He did the spell...I-I died…in Felix’s arms, why—why are you here?”

Jisung shrugs apathetically. “Ancient magick is unstable, and we don’t have any elders left to show us how to do things the right way all the time.” He holds up his torch in the darkness, surveying the surroundings you two were stranded in.

Jisung had been in these strange and complex pockets of alternate dimensions on more than one unfortunate occasion. Life and Death was nothing to toy around with. He learned at a young age how fragile the glass was between these worlds, and jumping back and forth between them could send a nasty crack spiraling open. It took great skill, great patience and resourcefulness to bring yourself back to full form, without any errors. Jisung’s parents called it “playing God”, and it could be done, but not without a great sacrifice. When his ancestors passed in their old age, they refused to return, instead, lending their ancient power to the next of kin.

Once it funneled down into Jisung, he found himself wielding a power beyond his wildest expectation. He was sick for nearly a year in a coma the moment he set foot into his teenage years. When he finally came to in the Intensive Care Unit, he knew how to conjure things the old Jisung could not wrap his mind around– and he could manifest his magick in ways that astonished his parents.

Jisung had to learn to remain in control of himself every waking moment and ended up spending more of his childhood on discipline than being a normal teenager.

It was something in his childhood that he held in common with Chan, and was a reason why they had become such good friends throughout working alongside one another.

So, yeah, he could bring himself back from death with little to spare; but bringing himself and another? Without clear-cut help from the other side? For the first time, Jisung felt sincere…doubt.

He wasn’t ready to die. Not yet. Not like this.

“Edith was already resurrected, I guess we were too late…it took two sacrifices, and I don’t even know if it worked.” Jisung sighs. “I was doing well, going on 90 years death free. Fuckin’ bitch.”

He notices you as you stumble against a nearby tree, feeling more pain, unable to focus on anything he was rambling on about.

“Little witch? Whoa whoa—“he catches you, helping you to stabilize once more. “What’s wrong?”

You take in a deep, painful breath. “My stomach is like…killing me Jisung. I can barely see straight.” The ache gets worse, making you fall to your knees and start to dry heave.

“Shit.” He mutters. Jisung thinks quickly, setting the torch between the nook of the low set branches in the nearby tree before he drops down beside you. His touch is not comforting for reasons you don't seem to understand, and you look over at him, trying to manage a way to express it.

Jisung falls back from you once your eyes meet…crawling away slowly as he holds his hand up.

“Stay there, little witch, don’t move— “

You don’t know what he’s talking about, you’re in pain and now growing alarmed at his sudden yield. You crawl towards him, but Jisung shakes his head, gives you a soft ‘i'm sorry’ before he speaks words in a foreign tongue and you blackout.

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“You can’t seriously trust this girl?”

“I don’t but do you have any other witches on hand before time runs out? If we don’t consecrate them by Dawn, we will lose every chance at bringing them back.” Felix explains to his brother.

Chan was being understandably difficult. He didn’t want to consecrate your body; he didn’t want to accept you were even gone.

Surely it was his fault.

He knew this.

He allowed himself to develop a weakness for you that he never saw coming. Here, he had allowed history to indeed, repeat itself once more.

If he had not become consumed with bloodlust; he could have stopped the spell from happening. Edith would have been back, sure, but Chan always could figure out a solution, and he would have found a way to kill her for eternity and do so while his brothers and you both remained alive.

Jisung would’ve remained alive.

Chan’s body had gone through cycles of tears that made his throat ache; and pure, silent disassociation throughout the night prior when they first brought you and Jisung's bodies back to the estate.

Chan proceeded to not sleep at all during the following day, rendering him weaker than usual, and when night fell once more, the time to consecrate drew near, and he feared having to face another dark reality.

Chan was all cleaned up; twice over now. He was dressed in a black short sleeved shirt, fitted to his handsome figure and tucked into his black slacks which were secured by an awfully expensive belt with a square gold buckle. A black leather watch with a gold face perfectly wraps around his right wrist, and a collection of black rings decorate his left hand. Chan doesn’t care much about his dark indigo hair, clean but lazily blown out and styled, he fingers through it to push it over to the side how you had seemed to like it. If he was going to see you one last time, for an exceedingly long time, he was going to look his very best for you. Felix steps into the living room alongside the blonde-haired witch from the shop, Emily. Chan spots them in the mirror he’s positioned in front of. Disapproving eyes scan the girl in the mirror and his expression hasn’t a hint of compassion in it.

Quite different from the flirtatious gentleman that had graced her during his attempted infiltration.

Chan looks down and sighs before he turns around and directs his eye contact to his snow haired younger brother.

“Shall we begin?” He says, walking past the two hastily, making his way outside to where Hyunjin stood with the two bodies, wrapped in cloth and both resting on wooden tables outside in the fields.

Chan wordlessly ducks under the plum tree before he stands in front of the body, both of his hands clasped together in front of his torso, expression unreadable and blank.

Hyunjin carefully observes his brother’s attempt at holding it together for a few brief seconds before he decides to speak up.

“We’re going to bring them back brother. And it won’t take a millennium.” He says confidently.

Chan’s eyes flit up from the bodies to Hyunjin. He watches the flame that burns on the fire dance in his scarlet haired brother’s eyes.

“The fire in your eyes…it’s from the flame we’ve set tonight brother but—the flame that’s been in your eyes since you were born, that’s what I see when I look at you Hyunjin.” Chan looks back down at the fire yet again. He believes his younger brother's words.

“You survived a hell I’ve never known, and you have a resilience I’ll never comprehend, so brother,” He tilts his head, focusing on the flames,

“I know we will.”

Felix and Emily join the elder brothers outside. Chan doesn’t move much, in fact, he remains eerily still; his brown eyes, like those of a predator, begin shifting to olive, and to amber as he keeps steady watch on Emily while she whispers foreign tongues over Jisung’s body, and then yours, while anointing you both with herbs steeped in oils that spill from a golden goblet. It's engraved with intricate depictions of war and resurrection. Her pale fingers cover most of it, but Chan had lived long enough to understand hieroglyphic-like imagery.

He’s waiting to hear her heartbeat spike before she tries anything, he’s listening to the way blood moves through her circulatory system, he’s preparing to smell the fear increase in her.

Why would the witch who had led him into a trap so he could be killed by her family, suddenly decide she wanted to be helpful?

What did she gain from this?

“Felix, could you, maybe help me out?” Emily turns to the freckled vampire, her blonde hair falling over her shoulder. Felix had been quiet for some time now. He joins her side as they stand over your body. His hand rests on the small of her back as they speak in hushed whispers.

Chan crosses his arms as he rolls his eyes, looking over at Hyunjin, who meets it with a similar sentiment before the red-haired vampire draws his lower lip in between his teeth to stop from smiling.

“Something wrong?” Felix quietly asks Emily, noticing her hesitation over your body, the uncertainty in her eyes. Unfortunately, there was no time for such a pause. He speaks again, “You know we have to get this done soon. If we’re to have any chance at bringing them back–”

“That’s just it, Felix.” Emily shifts uncomfortably, looking down at her goblet. Her voice is barely above a whisper. “I can practically feel your brother waiting to kill me if I mess up and…something's wrong, and I don’t know what to do. They’re both not…gone. Not yet. There's something...tethering them–”

“'Something’s wrong?' What do you mean 'something’s wrong?'” Chan’s hybrid hearing doesn’t let anything slip past, and he’s approaching your body, splitting up Felix and Emily by merging between them.

There would be no secrets held here tonight.

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

You don’t even realize you’ve blacked out until you see the world above you fade back into focus.

Your head feels heavy, as if you were knocked out. Were you knocked out? Had Jisung hexed you? You don’t feel any more pain, instead, your stomach just grumbles a little.

You realize you’re on the cold ground as you dust your hands off and come up to your feet. Its the same spot where Jisung left you earlier. He looked…panicked. Where could he have gone in these woods? It was dark all around you, and no stars in the sky above.

In fact, it was so dark, you weren’t sure how you were still able to make out the shapes of the trees and their intricate branches.

“JISUNG!” You call out, looking around you at the endless darkness. You breathe heavily, waiting to hear a reply.

“JISUNG!” You yell again, beginning to feel uneasy.

As if someone is holding the scent right under your nose, a sweet, floral and berry smell wafts by. You move so quick, too quick, to turn around; and you stumble over your feet from a thick chain that’s been lasso’d around your throat. You're yanked down onto your back, your head slams against the dirt. Your vision hazes in and out as someone hovers over you.

When you realize it's not Jisung, you try to sit up, but are instead violently pulled down once more. Frustration fills you until you feel an object, hard and sharp pierce the skin of your chest, causing you great pain.

“Hey. Don’t kill her.”

“You said she was turning, didn’t you?”

Jisung’s voice helps you to concentrate a little more on what’s going on. You manage to lift your head enough to see him, holding the torch that was providing the illumination around you. He stands a few feet away, looking between you and the woman above you.

“No, I said I don’t know what’s going on and she could be turning.” He replies sharply. “Take the fucking stake out of her chest, Amelia. I won’t ask twice.”

You weren't used to hearing such hostility in Jisung's tone. It nearly rendered his voice unrecognizable.

“Ame–lia?” You choke out. The pressure and sharp pain is lifted from your chest, and you cough, sitting up and feeling the rusted iron chain around your neck; you curl your fingers around it as you lift it so you can take in a deep breath.

“Jisung. Explain. Now.” You pant, looking at him with a fierce gaze. He takes a step, hesitates, and then decides to come over and kneel beside you. Amelia, with a thick, long crown of curly haired and smudged blood and dirt over her ripped shirt and pants, stands over you two, keeping a watchful eye, fingers wrapped tightly around the wooden stake in her hand. Her dark brows are furrowed, but she also looks concerned.

“Earlier, you, didn’t look like yourself…when you looked at me, your eyes…they reminded me of Chan right before he…turns.” Jisung’s eyes bounce over you, down your body and back up to your eyes. “But now…” his voice trails as he shakes his head in disbelief.

“You look…normal, I don’t–I don’t understand.” His hand lays on your shoulder. Silence passes between you two as you look at one another, lost for words.

“I do.” Amelia’s voice breaks the silence as she holds the stake to the bloodied hole in your shirt where she nearly pierced you moments earlier. You hold your breath, expecting another pinch, when instead, she pulls the hole open more to expose the wound.

Or rather, the lack of one.

The sinewy fibers of muscle and skin were slowly beginning to weave themselves together again. It was gradual, but happening in front of your own eyes.

You and Jisung look up to her. Amelia sets the stake down on the ground gently, and you notice her eyes wellling with tears. She sniffs and wipes her cheek with the back of her hand as she crouches next to you.

“She’s pregnant.”

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

“Christophe, stop–”

Chan’s fingers release Emily’s throat and she falls to the ground, gasping for air.

“Brother, a minute, please?” Hyunjin asks in a strained voice as he jerks his head to the treeline of the forest before disappearing into it. Chan’s fist curls at his side as his jaw flexes in barely contained hostility. He turns to Felix as he points to Emily.

“Finish the ceremony or I will hang her skin from your bed frame.”

His nostrils flare briefly, and he turns on his heels and is gone in a blur after Hyunjin. Chan catches up with his younger brother amongst the maple and pine trees. Hyunjin is leaning his back against a thick tree trunk, arms crossed over his chest. He wears a white V-neck and dark jeans. His silken, cherry hair is pulled into a ponytail, with wild ruby strands framing his beautiful porcelain face. He looks vastly different from the savage Hyunjin that was trapped in purgatory for a millenia.

“The pretty witch was an anomaly, you know this Christophe, what if–what if Emily’s right?”

Chan is pacing, albeit slowly between two large trees.

“She’s fucking lying brother. She’s lying Little witch, she’s a–threat to Emily’s entire family for siding with us and bringing you back. They probably told her to say this–”

“But what if…she’s right?” Hyunjin calmly repeats, voice airy and soft. Chan’s pacing takes pause, but he doesn’t look up, not yet.

“What if we move too hastily and actually kill her? If there is a chance she’s alive, like I was, then she’s in there fighting for her life right now to get back here, to get back to you. And there’s a good chance Jisung is right alongside her…which means, he’s not gone yet either.”

Hyunjin’s logic is sound, and his experience speaks volumes over it. Usually, Felix was the voice of reason, but in most cases, Hyunjin was always the one that could get through to Chan the quickest.

“There’s no pulse in either one of them.” Chan says, and for the first time, Hyunjin finally hears just how broken he truly was.

“I know.” Hyunjin’s voice settles over Chan like a warm blanket. Hyunjin doesn’t provide answers he isn’t certain of, but he actively acknowledges the pain his brother was experiencing. Hyunjin pushes himself from the tree and rests his large hands on the shoulders of his elder brother. Chan stares off to the left, trying, once more, to hold it together.

“There’s…no...pulse…” Chan repeats, as thick tears stir in his eyes and spill over the edges. Saying it aloud is breaking his heart all over again. When his chest begins to take staggered sobs that he holds firmly onto, Hyunjin pulls him into a deep embrace, hugging his brother tight.

“It’s okay to not be okay, brother.” The younger vampire speaks delicately to Chan’s brokenness. He pulls back from the hug, and their foreheads press together. Chan’s face is streaked with the tears of his mourning; Hyunjin’s eyes shine with tears of his own, held back. He was better at disguising his emotion than Chan. Hyunjin's hands cup around the back of Chan’s neck as he sniffs back any further weeps, his gaze growing darker, more deviant, unhinged.

“But it is not okay to let that cloud your sensibility. I want to kill the witch too, you see, but we hear her out first. She’s more useful to us alive, especially if her family comes looking for her. Be patient, brother. You will have your revenge.”

“But Felix–” Chan stares back at his brother, tempted by the malice in his tone. It was something Chan had grown to hate about himself. Somewhere, inside of him, there lay at rest, a monster. Something rooted deep within him loved the idea of bringing harm to others who had wronged him. It felt too good afterwards. But he forced himself to let it go, to create as much peace as he could gather, to become a leader not by fear, but by true admiration of character.

Chan had grown to put that part of himself away for many, many years, but now that Hyunjin was back…well...the younger sibling knew just how to bring it back out of him.

“Felix let Amelia die in your arms so he could sire her for his own use.” Hyunjin steps back, allowing his words to take effect.

Chan shakes his head. “What he did was, it was a mistake but–that’s our brother-”

“That’s the truth, Christophe.”

Emily and Felix are soon reunited with the other brothers as they emerge from the tree line. Chan strides over to Emily and squats down in front of her, his hands held together, elbow resting on his thigh. She stares at him, ready to flinch, to react, anything.

Then, the sapphire haired hybrid finally breaks the ominous silence as he extends his hand to help her stand to her feet.

“Tell me exactly what you need to bring my little witch and my bestfriend back.”

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Jisung sits in front of you on the ground. His hand rests over his mouth as he leans on his thigh and stares off into the wilderness. His brain is calculating, thinking, and processing. He looks focused, dark hair falling over his creased brows. There isn’t a hint of lightheartedness about him in this moment and you realize—this was an ultimate test of Jisung's strength.

“How long has it been since you’ve died?” You ask, breaking his focus as he glances up at you. His expression softens and his eyes drop back down to his lap as he sighs.

“90 years.” He murmurs, rubbing tiny pebbles from the ground between his fingertips. “It’s tough...ya’know? Humans are so...fragile.”

“So... why haven’t you ever asked Felix or Chan to turn you?”

He answers you with a light chuckle, a brief puff of air leaving his nose as he draws the corner of his mouth up into a crooked smile.

“Because I am a Han.” He picks up a lone pebble and tosses it into the darkness. “My blood, it can’t take the transformation. Too much...” he waits to find the right word, “...power. And really if I’m bein’ honest--” Jisung takes a deep breath in before blowing it out.

“Every time I come back; I feel myself getting weaker. Those hybrids and witches back at the warehouse? 90 years ago, they wouldn’t have made it past the doorframe.” He meddles with the soil in front of him once more, the curtains of his satin, ebony locks drawing the conversation to a close.

You don’t speak for a long while, a few minutes that feel like hours.

“I felt weird at the graveyard, like I could feel my body almost...vibrating when danger was close. Then…when I…went into the tomb I could…feel him, I could feel Chan down there even though I had no idea where he was. That wasn’t me…was it?” You finally break your long, fixed stare from the ground and look at Amelia, who was now seated on a nearby fallen tree log. It was chilly, dark, and wet, and Jisung had managed to start a fire, which was also a good sign–he still had some ability to conjure.

“It’s not like that…you’re still–you but enhanced.” Amelia explains, her right knee hugged to her chest as her left leg hangs loosely over the edge of the log.

She lay her cheek on her kneecap as she fixes her eyes onto the fire.

“So, I’m not a vampire then?” You ask.

Amelia sighs. “Not vampire, wolf, nor hybrid or witch. Until you give birth, you will carry the traits of all four. It will change the way you conjure; you will have fainting spells and grow dangerously weak if you do not feed when the moon is full.” She tosses a stray branch into the fire, and it licks higher to the sky.

“Tis no simple task for a woman to bear, being impregnated by a hybrid and carrying his unborn to full term.”

Jisung turns over a smooth rock in his fingers. “But you did it.” He adds in your defense, looking across the fire to Amelia.

“I was murdered by my own people for it. They knew I carried a child with extraordinary gifts. This will make you a target. It was irresponsible of Christophe to even allow this to happen again.” She lets out a deep breath before dropping her knee, finally leaning closer to the fire.

“You are of my bloodline; we cannot allow something like this to happen again;. Being here too long will do us more harm than good. We are no longer the only ones who know of this.”

“What do you mean? Who else is here?” Jisung quips aloud.

“Are you a fool?! My mother was cast back here when Hyunjin was split from her, I sent her back with my own hands. A witch of the Pavo coven birthing a hybrid is a beacon in here, I’ve told you this!”

You feel your eyebrows drawing together as you look over at her. “If this baby is tethering me to the real world, then how do we get out of here?”

Amelia shakes her head, “We are not getting out of anything. With great luck, maybe you can, and with even greater luck, Jisung can hitch a ride, but I am dead, and I have been dead for a long while. My soul will shred if I pass back over.”

“Is this where you came in?” Amelia asks, getting to her feet and looking up at the skies above the trees that eternally stretched upwards.

Jisung stands up and dusts himself off as he nods. “We’ll need a few things.”

“I have a cabin a couple of miles away; it should have everything you need.”

A howl pierces the dead of night around you, and the three of you freeze.

You feel the hairs on the back of your neck begin to rise.

“Go, go, now!” Amelia breaks off into a run in the direction of her cabin. Jisung follows close behind and so do you, until you feel like you are approaching danger.

“Stop!” You yell, breathing heavy. “Not that way!”

Amelia nods in understanding of your warning, but before you can reroute, Jisung is taken down by a snapping, snarling blur of black fur. Amelia’s arm extends in front of you to prevent your reflexive foolishness from jumping in without warning, and with a curl of her fingers into a tight fist, the bones of the wolf crack as it gives one, single yelp and collapses.

Face blown with shock, Jisung sits up, touching his intact chest and neck before looking at the scratches and blood on his hands.

A chorus of wolf yodels and calls begin to sound off, and there is no longer any more time to waste. You look around, whipping your head back and forth, focusing on which direction smelled the clearest.

“Eucalyptus...” You take in a big breath. “I don’t understand--”

Amelia takes a step forward with certainty as she declares,

“My garden! Follow it!”

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

“So you want me to believe, that an elementary witch, can open a makeshift gate to the afterlife? But to do it, all three of us have to be totally incapacitated so she can channel our power?” Chan grows more frustrated by the minute.

Before, he would’ve done anything to prolong having to give you your final farewell; but now it was late in the night, going on 3 in the morning, and within a couple of hours, Dawn would soon approach, and the opportunity would be gone.

“As far as I know from mother’s works, it sounds like the only option we have right now.” Felix explains, “Unless you have something better?”

Chan wants to speak but bites his tongue as he lifts a pointer finger to Felix, saying everything with the ferocity of the silence in his pissed off expression before he turns around and exhales, fingers gliding through wisps of his hair.

“I don’t care for this method either, no matter the accuracy.” Hyunjin adds, finger to his lips as he thinks.

“Try with Christophe and Felix, I’ll just standby.”

Felix shakes his head in immediate protest. “Hyunjin there are four points to the gate,” he proceeds to point to himself before he goes to each person standing around, “One, Two, Three, Four.”

“Damn it!” Chan shouts.

The eldest brother rarely does this, and the bass in his chest causes the other two to recoil from their debate.

Chan intertwines his fingers in a nest atop his sea of hair as he brings himself back from the edge of insanity before he walks up face to face with Emily.

Breath heavy with mixed emotion, the hybrid brings his wrist up to his mouth and breaks the skin with needlepoint canines, spilling his blood as he holds his wrist out and wipes the excess from his lips with the fingers of his free hand.

Emily scrambles to tear a piece of the cloth from around your body and Jisung's. Chan watches the baby witch as she kneels under his extended arm, catching the precious blood on the white cloth. It soaks into the fibers of the fabric instantly. She nods for Felix to approach next. He looks at Chan and they share an exchange of wordless eye contact that called for conversations to be held at a later time.

Felix gently punctures his wrist, a lot neater, perhaps due to the thinner build of his pureblood vampire teeth. Licking his lips, he clenches his fist, soaking the cloth with his own blood before he gives Emily a small, supportive smile and steps back.

“There is no witch worth my life.” Hyunjin speaks aloud, quite adamantly in fact.

He then takes a step forward.

“But I owe Jisung many a favor, I’ll consider this one of them.”

Hyunjin bites into the edge of his palm and holds it over the cloth innocently, but he jerks it back into his grip, sending Emily stumbling forward, just inches away from his face. Hyunjin's ice blue eyes could be both beautiful, and terrifying.

“I am not my brothers. Do keep this in mind, useless witch.”

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midnightwinterhawk · 3 years ago

Text

I put together a little collection of Sterek and Steter fics for funsies. “Just a few fics”, I thought, “nothing too crazy.” Thirty fics later I had to cut myself off and finalize the list. You can thank @the-cookie-of-doom for the inspiration.

These primarily fall under the Hurt Stiles Stilinski category because I apparently like to see my comfort characters suffer. Most of these have hopeful/happy endings but mind the tags. For reals.

Placed under a cut since I have no self control and this turned into a long post.

Sterek

adore to see your eyes fly by @1001cranes

(11,309 l E)

stiles is a pyromaniac, derek is a sociopath. a match made in some kind of heaven. teen wolf kink meme fill.

take my heart from me by @areiton

(23,188 l NR)

He didn't really mean to adopt Derek's pack of puppies. He didn't mean to make himself important to them.

To Derek.

He just wanted to keep them all safe.

That's all Stiles ever wanted.

"Why Can't You?" by @asterekmess

(3,602 l T)

Now. This was happening now, and he couldn’t be less prepared.

After a long night, things between Stiles and his father come to a head.

And You Say You're Alone by bi_leigh_bi

(30,314 l E)

Between the kanima, the Argents, and Peter's untimely return from the dead, everything has fallen apart. Stiles and Derek try to put their lives back together once the crisis has passed. Stiles deals with the aftermath of being tortured, and the distance growing between he and Scott. Derek attempts to become a stronger alpha and keep his pack safe, and that includes Stiles.

A Victory March by @churkey

(2,688 l T)

When Stiles is eight he learns that nothing will be the same. His dad comes home one day after work and sits Stiles down for a talk. He explains that werewolves and all the monsters are real.

They're real and not hiding under anyone's bed.

Bury the Moon by darthjamtart

(16,592 l M)

First things get bad. Then they get worse. Stiles doesn’t know what he’s sacrificed until it’s too late.

Dying is the easy part.

Love's Violent Delights by @dexterous-sinistrous

(10,685 l E)

Derek caught the way the man’s eyes looked over Stiles before lingering on his ass. He waited for the clerk to place the key on the counter before he reacted.

Stiles startled at the loud noise, turning away from the pamphlets in the display box to see Derek pinning the clerk’s head against the counter. He drew in an even breath, looking between the struggling man and Derek.

Derek briefly looked at Stiles, hesitating before he saw the gleam of excitement in Stiles’ eyes and the hint of lust in his scent. “Ever look at him, or any other Omega, like that again, and I’ll slice your eyes out with my claws.” He shoved the man back, not caring of the commotion that was made as he snatched up the key from the counter.

Empty by @discontentedwinter

(48,034 l M)

Jordan Parrish is the new sheriff of Beacon Hills, a town haunted by its past.

Your Vision Borrows Mine by hazyascent

(188,781 l E)

Stiles has encountered a fair share of monsters before, way out of his league - the kinds that children are afraid are hiding in their closets and under the bed.

He’d even become one himself when he was void. The nogitsune was in his house, his body, and his mind.

But the worst monster he’s ever faced took even more from him and got away with it.

It’s why Stiles has never really been as terrified of werewolves and kanimas and darachs as he should have been. They’re really not that scary, relatively speaking, and he has a whole team on his side. They always found a way to win - until they lost someone they really loved.

Stiles doesn’t know how to be normal, not after everything he’s done and everyone he’s hurt. The nogitsune is gone, but another monster is on its heels.

His uncle is back. And Stiles has never felt more alone.

It Was a Wednesday by @isthatbloodonhisshirt

(80,129 l M)

“What happened? Where are you? What’s that sound?”

Derek jumped, having momentarily forgotten Scott was on the phone with him because Stiles had started moving. He’d stalked over to the other side of the cave, still eying Derek warily and growling, then settled protectively over a mass of clothes, leaves and animal innards. It was probably where he was sleeping.

Lovely. No wonder he smelled like death.

“Stiles,” Derek said, answering Scott’s question. Or, one of them, at least.

“Stiles? What do you—Stiles is making that noise?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“How fast do you think you can make it to the south lot of the Preserve?”

Tiny Houses by @ohmyjetsabel-blog

(77,183 l E)

"So this is what Stiles does. He lies in Scott’s bed and waits for Melissa to say she’s found someone to get it out of him, to cure him of the wrongness and the bad, and he dreams.

God, he dreams.

He dreams of fire and swollen bellies and that scene in Alien, of giving birth to jackals through his urethra, the whole horrific nine yards. His head is a terrible place to be, he can’t imagine his stomach is much better, why anyone would want to put a thing inside of it."

I'm There in the Water by @spaceprincessem

(15,878 l T)

“But it’s—” Derek paused, his words unsure, “it’s not like us,” he swallows hard, chin dipping to his chest in frustration, “it’s like a…”

“An abomination,” Stiles finished, nodding his head as he finally lets his gaze really look at Derek since Scott had pulled them from the water.

He suddenly wished he hadn’t because the way Derek looks at him makes Stiles feel like he is ten years old again. Like Derek is seeing him for the first time since they accidentally fell into each other’s orbit all those years ago. Like Stiles isn’t a burden or invisible.

Like he is enough.

Or five times Stiles felt like he was drowning and the one time he finally caught his breath

Gunplay is Not Really Our Kink by theroguesgambit

(2,577 l M)

“The rules to the game are simple. One bullet, six chances. You pick it up and take turns pulling the trigger on the other man, or we gun you both down right now. You play along, only one of you has to die. Fun game, huh?”

Derek and Stiles are captured by a group of hunters and forced to play a twisted game that only one of them might walk away from.

The Price by theroguesgambit

(18,452 l M)

Stiles must surrender the most important thing in his life to protect the town… and no one can figure out what it was.

Nieważny by Zethsaire

(2,037 l E)

The pack is gone, everything they've ever cared for destroyed. Now Stiles and Derek hunt the hunters, taking revenge in the only way they know how; blood.

Steter

Make Me Bleed by @asarcasticwitch

(2,304 l E)

Peter’s expression contorts, impressed or surprised, Stiles can't decipher, but the grin on his face proves he’s not exactly disappointed with the unexpected turn of events.

“Which bite exactly were you hoping for, hm?” The older man curls one hand around the back of Stiles’s neck, trailing his thumb along his pale, fragile throat.

Stiles tilts his head back in unyielding submission, giving the wolf no room to debate his sincerity. “I’m sure you can figure it out, Alpha.

Two Roads Converge in a Graveyard Town by @cywscross

(15,645 l T)

The Deadpool brings one more assassin to Beacon Hills. A man's gotta eat after all.

when you're going through hell (keep going for me) by cywscross

(57,022 l T)

Peter is abandoned in the aftermath of the fire, and Eichen House takes ruthless advantage. Six years later, when he's finally able to move again, he finds himself in a cell with a boy in a straitjacket.

(Kate’s biggest mistake was letting Peter live. Eichen House’s biggest mistake was letting Peter meet Stiles.)

Don't Fail Me Now by @discontentedwinter

(36,315 l E)

Stiles goes to Derek looking for help.

He finds Peter instead.

Peter takes what he's wanted for a very long time.

Sanctuary by DiscontentedWinter

(56,525 l M)

The Hale Wolf Sanctuary isn’t just for wolves.

It turns out it’s for Stilinskis as well.

Bite Down by EclipseWing (@shadow-of-the-eclipse)

(27,586 l M)

In which Stiles is forced to survive the zombie apocalypse with a sociopathic murdering werewolf for company.

Into Eden by @graciebirdie

(12,232 l M)

Stiles deciding to bring home the stray alpha he'd hit with his jeep probably made him certifiable, if it hadn't turned out Peter was as crazy as he was.

Before you let go (and the light takes you in) by Issay

(4,032 l E)

Stiles makes one last errand - goes to leave flowers on all the other graves. Fuck, so many graves. The grief is as endless and as inescapable as the sky.

He goes home and there is a thing wearing his father's face, waiting for him in the kitchen.

Call My Name by KouriArashi ( @gingersnapwolves )

(81,370 l M)

After moving to Beacon Hills, Stiles starts having recurring dreams of a man in some kind of prison, who needs his help. Things get so bad that he ends up in Eichen House, where he finds out that the man is real.

Hide my tears in the rain. by MrsRidcully

(6,865 l M)

After years spent successfully dodging werewolves, evil spirits and wendigos, it was a drunk driver who stole his Dad, a drunk driver with a suspended license and a record sheet as long as Stiles’s arm. Stiles would have laughed at the irony if he hadn’t been so busy screaming.

In My Veins Like Disease by romanoffbarton

(1,140 l T)

He tries to leave once.

Foreshock by @twothumbsandnostakeincanon

(22,816 l E)

The day Stiles’ mom died, he almost leveled his house.

Not on purpose. Not even by mistake, really. More by instinct.

Since then he's dug his fingers into everything his has left, holding on with desperation.

Desperation never stopped an earthquake.

Your Touch is My Choice by twothumbsandnostakeincanon

(2,171 l T)

The first time John does it, Stiles is two years old and about to run into the road.

“Mieczysław!” Heart pounding, John grabbed him by the back of his neck and got a hand around his tummy, snatching him back. “No, you have to stay away from the road,” he said firmly.

Shameful Company by Whispering_Sumire (@whispering-sumire755)

(38,779 l E)

"Did I turn into a unicorn?" Peter asks dryly, and Stiles glares at him for a moment before the laughter bubbles up, unbidden, nearly unwilling, and he looks so surprised at the sound, his shock dimming it for a moment before it bursts through with even more trembling ferocity. A long, thin, willowy hand curls into a soft fist over his mouth, and he's shaking, frail, more tears falling, but the copper of his eyes are glowing, crinkling around the edges and scrunched with mirth.

"No," Stiles chokes, chuckling wetly. "No, fuck you, a unicorn? What, like, Rainbowcreep? Zombiesparkle?"

[About a year before the fated Hale fire, Peter starts having nightmares that involve a woman with red hair. The nightmares lead to a spell that brings a man back through time, and, eventually, though the time-traveler is traumatized in the most horrific ways, and Peter's never been good with or for people, in general, they develop a bond that neither of them expects.]

Would You Forgive Me If I Called You Hope, Peter Hale? (Hope, By Any Other Name) by Whispering_Sumire

(10,099 l T)

Stiles has scars. He owns that, he accepts it, he's cataloged and memorized every single one, he's hyper fucking aware of them all.

"What do you want, Peter?" Having the more untrustworthy of the Pack getting protective weirds him the fuck out, leaves an odd fluttering in his chest, like moths, waiting perilously and suicidally to be burned.

He doesn't like it.

"You're injured," the man says, "and whatever it is, it's put you in enough pain that I nearly fainted when I-"

"- Used your werewolf mojo on me without my permission?" Stiles smirks, and Peter gives him a black look, crossing a leg over his knee and smoothing out some invisible wrinkle on his pants.

"Tell me the truth Stiles, how bad is it?"

[Or: The one where Stiles has scars, is more than a little fucked up, and Peter notices. He helps.]

#hurt/comfort #angst #dark #hurt/no comfort #angst with a happy ending #fic rec #be kind to yourself and mind the tags #Sterek #Steter #Stiles Stilinski #Derek Hale #Peter Hale #hurt Stiles Stilinski #Sterek fic #Steter fic #to the pain

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willowcrowned · 4 years ago

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Star Wars Time Travel AU - Flavor: Anakin and Obi-Wan, from ROTJ to TPM

I asked, you guys answered. Here it is: Obi-Wan and Anakin get sent back to TPM after ROTJ, and proceed to confuse everyone. In everyone’s defense, Anakin and Obi-Wan have a lot of confusing trauma.

The thing about being dead is that it’s not quite as restful as everyone made it out to be.

Oh, Obi-Wan is sure that if he’d done the irresponsible thing and ignored Qui-Gon and passed properly into the netherworlds of the Force instead of following his bloody Path of the Whills, he would be perfectly happy floating along as part of the larger universe. And alright, he doesn’t regret doing it because Luke desperately needed the help, what with Yoda’s isolation having made him only more reticent, but it’s still annoying. Because even though he watched Anakin toss Sidious down a reactor shaft and die peacefully in his sons arms before moving on, the next phase of existence looks a whole lot like the Healer’s Ward at the Jedi temple forty years ago, and he’s being stared at by one very alive-looking Mace Windu.

“Hello there,” Obi-Wan says, because being dead is no excuse for being impolite. “Whose idea was it to decorate like this? I find it rather gauche.”

One also very alive looking Vokara Che sends him a warning look. “Large windows and pale colors are beneficial to the health of patients.”

“Oh, I think we’re rather past the need for worrying about our health,” Obi-Wan jokes.

Vokara just gives him a confused and suspicious look. “Are you alright, Obi-Wan?”

Obi-Wan feels hysterical laughter bubble up inside him. He’s dead. He watched the Jedi fall, felt their deaths like they were his own and heard the Force crying out at the pain and wrongness of it all; he disfigured— attempted to kill— one of the few people he had ever loved, fully and unconditionally, and felt the attempt rend him further apart in the process, and then he watched as that person twisted themself into a horrible facsimile of what they once were; he hid for twenty years on a desert planet while slowly detaching himself from his physical body so he could train and advise a child on whom he pinned nearly all his hopes; he was killed by Vader, and then watched Luke save him— save the man Obi-Wan couldn’t— and saw Vader kill Sidious, and then die. And now— now— he has finally passed on, expecting rest and peace, only to wake up in the healer’s ward of a temple that was destroyed.

Obi-Wan laughs, sharp and harsh and slightly deranged. “No,” he says, “I am not.”

“Yeah,” says a voice from next to him, “I get that.”

Obi-Wan turns to see Anakin— wait, no. Obi-Wan turns to see an unharmed Anakin— well, not quite. Obi-Wan turns to see Anakin, alive, unharmed, whole... and all of nine years old.

“Anakin?” Obi-Wan asks, surprised. He’d assumed that this odd make-believe healer’s ward was a result of the Path of the Whills— a journey that Anakin had decidedly not undertaken.

“Yep,” Anakin says crossing his arms. “So, this is what being dead is like? I’d assumed it would be less, uh,” he searches for the word, “medical.”

“It could be a construct,” Obi-Wan suggests, “while our consciousnesses slowly dissipate— a waystation of sorts. Of course,” he frowns, “that doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

“Excuse me,” Mace Windu says, very on-edge, “but what exactly are you two talking about?”

“Ugh,” Anakin complains, lying back, “why is he here?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan says, acerbic, “I wonder why he could be here, what with that fall you gave him.”

Anakin flushes, embarrassed. “Fair point.”

“So,” Obi-Wan turns to Mace Windu, “where are we exactly?”

Windu raises an extremely suspect eyebrow. “You’re in the Healer’s Ward at the Jedi temple on Coruscant.”

“Well, yes,” Obi-Wan says, a touch exasperated, “but where are we?”

Windu frowns at him.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin says, “I don’t think he knows what you mean.”

Windu casts an evaluating glance at Anakin. “No, I don’t.”

Obi-Wan gives him a curious look before turning back to Anakin. “Perhaps he’s part of the construct.” He pauses. “Speaking of, why have you chosen to look like that?”

“Like what?” Anakin blinks confused.

“Like—” Obi-Wan huffs. “Does anyone have a mirror?”

“There’s one in the fresher,” Vokara Che says.

Anakin hops out of bed, and after a moment, Obi-Wan follows him to the fresher.

“Oh sweet stars and suns,” Anakin breathes, looking at his ten year old face. “I really used to look like this?”

Obi-Wan looks in the mirror as well, shocked to find that he looks as he did when he was twenty, padawan braid and all. “You know, I’m actually very glad that I’m never going to have to try to unpack the psychological implications of this,” he remarks.

Anakin snorts. “Yeah, why’d you choose to look like that?”

“I... didn’t,” Obi-Wan realizes. Before, he’d been able to change his appearance to living beings. He hadn’t for Luke, partially because Luke probably wouldn’t have taken very well to a thirty year old Obi-Wan, and partially because there wasn’t a point, given that Force ghosts didn’t get creaky knees.

“Weird,” Anakin says.

They head out of the fresher to see that Vokara Che and Mace Windu are looking at them as if they’ve grown second heads.

“So let me unpack this,” Windu says, “you both think you’re dead.”

Anakin and Obi-Wan look at each other.

“We have reason to believe so, yes,” Obi-Wan replies, amused. “Are you going to try to convince us that we’re not?”

Windu raises one very unimpressed eyebrow. “I would think that even a padawan would be able to look into the Force to see that they’re not dead.”

Obi-Wan looks at Anakin, who shrugs. It seems that neither of them have allowed themselves to be very connected to the Force. It must be a force of habit— Obi-Wan had been careful on Tatooine to never let too much of the outside filter in, for fear of Vader finding him, and for fear that the dark currents in the Force would sweep him away. Perhaps Vader had done a similar thing.

“Shall we?” Obi-Wan suggests to Anakin. At this point, it’s likely that this is the construct telling them both that they need to connect to the Force to finally relinquish their consciousnesses.

Anakin shrugs. “Can’t make things worse, right?”

Obi-Wan snorts. “On three?”

Anakin nods.

“One, two, three.”

Obi-Wan drops his outer shielding, letting the Force filter through.

What he feels isn’t the ethereal, ineffable currents of the Force, calling him to drift among them as they had during his time as a Force ghost. What he feels is thousands of bright lights, sparks where there should be void, and a darkness that has surrounded everything but not yet consumed it.

“Oh,” Obi-Wan breathes. “Anakin, I’m not sure we’re dead.”

Anakin doesn’t say anything back, and Obi-Wan turns to see him crying.

“They’re alive,” Anakin whispers, tears rolling down his cheeks, face frozen in wonder and horror and guilt. “They’re all alive.”

Obi-Wan can feel them— every single one— and a lump rises in his throat. “It’s—” he starts, but he can’t finish the sentence. “We—”

Anakin nods, face still frozen. “How?”

“I—” Obi-Wan shakes his head, “I don’t know.”

“We were— you were—”

“I know.”

“And now they’re—” Anakin takes a deep breath, small body shuddering, and Obi-Wan instinctively gathers him up in his arms, holding him close.

“It’s impossible,” Obi-Wan says. “You were dead. I was dead. I felt it.”

“Luke,” Anakin chokes, “We—”

“We’re alive,” Obi-Wan says hoarsely. “The Jedi are alive— none of it has to happen.”

“Mustafar,” Anakin adds, hoarse. “Padmé.”

“The Death Star. Alderaan.” Obi-Wan says in a dark undertone. Then, louder, “I will be very cross if I get chopped in half again.”

Anakin frowns at him, momentarily distracted. “The blow didn’t hit. I should know. You have nothing to complain about.”

“I have nothing to complain about?” Obi-Wan replies, indignant. “I was on Tatooine for twenty years!”

“You cut off my arms and legs!” Anakin shouts.

Obi-Wan huffs. “Only three!”

“I was stuck in a stupid life-support suit for twenty! Fucking! Years!” Anakin retorts. “Do you know how much that sucked? I couldn’t eat real food! I fucking suffocated just because I took off my helmet to see my son in my last breaths!”

“You killed me!” Obi-Wan shouts indignantly.

There’s a cough from beside him, and a silence as Vokara Che, Mace Windu, and several very nosy padawans stare at him.

Obi-Wan looks at them, slightly embarrassed by his outburst. “I got better.”

Anakin looks at Obi-Wan, the rage in his eyes not Vader’s, but Anakin’s, and then slowly, slowly, it dissipates.

Anakin snorts. “Fuck, we made a mess of things.”

A small, sad, smile creeps on to Obi-Wan's face. “We really did.” He sighs. “I suppose we’ll have to fix everything.”

Anakin shrugs. “Well, Sith Lords are our specialty.” He sighs. “And then I’m retiring on Naboo and learning to fish.”

#i know at first glance this looks like a very normal AU #but keep an eye out for the next post #which is about what happens AFTER they get rid of sidious #it devolves into my usual brand of nonsense VERY quickly #obi-wan and anakin ignore their trauma by quipping (as usual)#don't worry i'm sure they start going to therapy off screen #sugar baby ben au #star wars #willow's aus #star wars au #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker

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amclayton · 3 years ago

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Maya, Carina and the donor.

I was not planning on doing something like this but I've just finished the last episode of Station 19 and I need to get this out of my chest.

Before I start, this is my personal opinion as a lesbian woman watching a wlw couple on a tv show so I totally understand that not everybody will share my view but you are welcome to read it. I would like to add that we should not blame the actors portraying these characters because even if they have tried to change this problem, they do not have any power to solve it.

What made me upset in the first place is the lack of coherence and change of plot between Carina and Maya. After their whole drama with Jack and how affected Carina was after Maya told her she cheated on her with him just to hurt Carina, the fact that he is going to be the sperm donor makes zero sense.

It was not easy for Maya the idea of getting a baby, and is nice that we got to see her development in that matter and also as a character, but Carina forgiving Jack and then being the one to tell Maya about using Jack's sperm feels wrong to me. I get that you can like him and not be forever pissed at him because Carina and Maya relationship is not only based in that. Nevertheless before expressing my opinion here I want to talk about the lack of coherence I mentioned before.

When Maya told Carina that she was finally ready to start the process and get a baby together, Maya made clear that she was more than satisfied with Carina carrying the baby and with them being 100% Deluca. But once they start to choose the donor I felt like the drama was out of place with Maya suddenly being weird about the fact that the baby was not going to be Bishop.

Besides that, Maya's words represented that the fact of choosing an 'unknown' donor to their baby did not feel right to her which gives bad representation for those hetero-normative couple watching the show. So we move to the idea of picking a donor they know in case Maya dies while working, which is frustrating to hear to me personally because what this implies is that they need another figure to fulfill the void she could left.

This leads us to Jack and he saying that he does not think he could be separated of the baby because somehow that baby would be his legacy??? Lesbians couple do not need a third figure to help them through the process of motherhood. The fact that the directors are leading their relationship in this direction and with Jack in the middle of it after their history is really upseting.

Moreover, the fact that even Maya asked to Carina if she should be concerned about how close she and Jack have became over the last months feels totally out of place. Plus for me and due to the scenes I've seen in the show there is not any kind of development between Carina and Jack relationship to say: OH! They became friends thanks to this or that. Their friendship is something written in the script but not really shown. We do not see Maya and Carina talking with details about the episode with Jack and their feelings.

Yes, we can get an idea but I see these two characters, that I love so dearly, and I feel sad that this is where they are leading them: to make people who watch the show feel like it is needed to have a known donor just in case Maya dies or just because it won't feel as a strange's baby.

Even if Maya dies, I hope she does not, there is no need to have a donor they know personally. Dean's daughter lost his father and all the station were there for her. They all are a family and I'm just tired of seeing wlw representation becoming bad for no reasons after a healthy growth as a couple. Feels like they just want to ruin things on purpose or create drama out of nowhere.

Where is that loving couple we used to see? The only thing I've been seeing lately is arguments over a donor over nine/ten chapters in a row??? It does not feel right.

It was so hard to explain to my mother the fact that my partner or I could get pregnant to act like there should be a male figure involved in pareting because women need it. Yes, the donor can be someone you know but that is not what I'm trying to express here, and I hope I've made my point clear. Thanks for reading and sorry if you see any mistakes.

#station 19 #carina deluca #maya bishop #marina #carina x maya #wlw #stefania spampinato #danielle savre #maya and carina

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babymetaldoll · 3 years ago

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DIWK: Chapter eleven: "Can't get you off my mind"

|Word count: 9,7K

Summary: Reader struggles with her feelings for Spencer and tries to work with Seaver. Neither of those things works. Spencer's headaches are getting worse. Also, it's Anderson's birthday! Things are getting a little more complicated.

Warnings: Hardcore fools in love. It's getting painful to watch. Spoilers of Criminal Minds Season 6 Episode 11. 25 to life. Cursing, and frustration. Alcohol consumption. Assholes being blind.

A/N: Please don't hate me! but these two are just so blind, it hurts!

Masterlist

.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.

Spencer's point of view

Psychotics in a break always evolve. Well, I was psychotic at that minute of my life, but the only things evolving were my migraines. They were driving me insane. I could feel them taking over my life, my head, my sanity. I could feel my good judgment slipping through my fingers every day, especially since (Y/N) had started acting strange.

It wasn't like she had stopped talking to me or hanging out with me. But I could feel a void growing between us every day. And it was driving me insane. I couldn't understand where it had come from. I just knew it was eating me alive.

Morgan was having a bad day. One really bad day. The man he had vouched for parole had just murdered a man after nearly 70 hours of freedom, and now the team was trying to solve the whole case. Don Sanderson claimed he had been framed guilty of the murder of his wife and baby daughter, but after 25 years in prison, the first thing he did as a free man was to murder someone else.

It made no sense.

We had visited the murder scene. Hotch was still on a leave, so it was just Prentiss, (Y/N), Morgan, Rossi, Seaver, and I. Emily was in full "training agent's duty," walking Seaver through every step of the procedure, which was very nice of her. It was her first case after the incident in New Mexico, and she was eager to do better work than that time. She was nearly jumping all over the place, taking notes.

I talked with Garcia on the phone because he was worried about Morgan, and then I walked to (Y/N), who kept a safe distance from Emily and Seaver.

- "The bullets were in the other room, but the gun is right here,"- I said as I looked around the room. (Y/N) turned to me, ready to speak her mind, but Ashley spoke first, which annoyed her beyond belief.

- "Maybe killing him was an accident."

I looked at my best friend as Prentiss and Ashley continued talking. She just crossed her arms and walked around the room. She surely wasn't dealing well with having Seaver around. I wanted to ask her something, anything, but nothing came to mind.

- "Sanderson was out of prison for what, Reid?"- I answered Emily's question but didn't even turn to look at her. My eyes were following (Y/N), moving around that room.

- "At the time of the murder, 51 hours."

- "He's free for 2 days and change? What's the big hurry to find this guy?"

- "Are you ok?"- I whispered and stood next to (Y/N) as Prentiss and Ashley kept analyzing the scene.

- "Yeah, just tired."

- "Do you wanna have dinner with me tonight? I didn't see you this weekend, and I thought we could do a movie night."

(Y/N) took her time to answer, but finally, after a moment, she nodded and agreed.

- "Movie night sounds nice."

- "Great, ‘cos I rented your favorites."- I might have sounded more excited than I should, but I had really missed her those days, and I may or may not have watched and read Pride and Prejudice a couple of times.

- "Did you? Really?"

- "Yes, I was hoping to spend some time with you."

- "Are you coming, Spence?"- Seaver interrupted us and looked from the door- "Rossi called. They are interviewing Sanderson at the BAU."

- "Yeah, we are coming,"- I answered and looked away. (Y/N) shook her head and walked outside in silence the second Prentiss called my name, and I couldn't follow her. Which, I guess, was a good thing.

- "Is everything ok?"- Emily stayed behind with me. She raised an eyebrow, watching (Y/N) walking out of the room as Ashley waited for us by the door.

- "Yes?"- my answer came more as a question because I honestly didn't know what to say- "Everything is ok, Emily."

- "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I have the feeling (Y/N) isn't thrilled to have agent Seaver around."- I almost chuckled at her words and just nodded.

- "It's not like she has made it hard to tell. She literally yelled at her at the jet."

- "Is she mad at me because I am supervising her training?"

- "I don't know. I don't think so… she hasn't told me so. Well, she hasn't talked to me much lately."

- "Why? Did you fight?"- Prentiss wide opened her eyes and moved a little closer to me, trying to read my expressions.

- "No, I don't know what's going on. She just… we…"- I couldn't find the right words to explain my mind, and I think Prentiss knew it, ‘cos she didn't push me.

- "You should talk to her."

- "Yeah, we are going out tonight."

- "You have a date?"- Ashley walked over and asked me with a short smile. I cleared my throat and shook my head right away.

- "No, just meeting with a friend."

- "Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to intrude,"- Seaver blushed and looked at her shoes. Prentiss smiled, probably reading something I wasn't seeing.

- "Come on, Rossi is probably waiting for us at the BAU, and I'm guessing Morgan is not in a good mood."

For the rest of the day, I tried to find a moment alone with (Y/N). I needed to talk about what was going on. But it was impossible. We worked late, rereading the original case files, trying to find something that might help us help Sanderson. But it was frustrating and nearly impossible.

So around nine, we decided to call it a day and go home.

- "Are you in the mood for Chinese?"- I looked at (Y/N), gathering all the things as I stood next to her desk- I thought maybe we could get some take-out from that place you love on our way home.

- "Sounds nice. What are we watching?"

- "Pride and Prejudice, Coraline, maybe Beetlejuice. You pick, I've got all your favorites,"- (Y/N) narrowed her eyes, looking at me in silence- "What?"

- "So you rented movies ‘cos you wanted to hang out with me?"

- "Yes."

- "You usually don't rent movies. You rent documentaries."

- "Yes, but I wanted to do something different this time. I told you I missed you."

(Y/N) blushed as she stood in front of me, biting the inner part of her cheek, trying not to smile. I looked at her, nearly beaming, excited to see her reaction. I had felt so scared to lose her, feeling her pushing away from me. It was a balm watching her so happy, and just because I missed her.

- "I love Pride and Prejudice,"- Ashley said from her desk- "I've read that book so many times, I think I can recite it."

I looked at her and nodded with an awkward smile. I knew she was just trying to be nice ‘cos she was new at the BAU, and she was also trying to be nicer to (Y/N), to get on her good side. But that wasn't the way to get to her. Maybe I had to talk to Seaver and explain that my best friend is a special woman.

Neither of us answered her comment. We just stood there, looking at her in silence, until Anderson walked over and waved.

- "Hey agents, before you go, I wanted to tell you, this Friday I'm celebrating my birthday, and I'd love to have you over."

- "Of course, Sonny!"- (Y/N) wide opened her eyes and clapped. She had called him "Sonny" since they sang "I got you babe" by Sonny and Cher in the karaoke at the Christmas party the year before.

- "Happy birthday, Anderson!"- Derek waved.

- "Thank you! We'll gather at a bar nearby. I'll text you the address."

- "We wouldn't miss it for the world,"- Prentiss added and smiled- "Do you mind if we tell JJ and Garcia?"

- "Please do! I haven't seen JJ since she left, and it would be amazing to have her over. You too, agent Seaver."

- "Thank you!"- Ashley smiled and nodded- "Count me in."

I could feel (Y/N)'s eyes rolling, annoyed, even when I wasn't even looking at her at that minute. I grabbed my bag and my coat and held her hand.

- "Bye, guys! See you tomorrow!"- that was all I said as I dragged her out of the bullpen. Emily waved at us, and Derek cut me an evil grin I could decode easily. I just ignored him and turned to the door.

- "Have fun, pretty girl!!"- Morgan chuckled at his own words, and (Y/N) just smiled and winked. Why? Probably to show him she didn't care about all his teasing, ‘cos nothing was ever going to happen between us.

(Y/N)'s point of view

It might have been childish, but I had to take advantage of Morgan's innuendo just to show Seaver things could happen between Spencer and me. It had been immature and silly, but I just felt like I needed to do it. It was like a stupid animal instinct that forced me to mark my territory.

I shouldn't have done it. Spencer wasn't mine. Not even close. And I had to stop being jealous of Seaver. If he didn't want me, he had the right to be with anyone else. But just the thought of Spencer being with someone, anyone, made me feel sick in my stomach. I hated being in love with him. I honestly did, ‘cos I didn't want to ruin our friendship with useless feelings. Spencer wasn't in love with me. He was just my friend. My very thoughtful, cute, adorable, and lovable best friend.

I was fucked. Completely and utterly fucked. Even that second, sitting on that couch with Spencer, I couldn't focus on the movie. I pretended, but I didn't even pay attention to it. All I could think of was how warm his body felt sitting next to me, like a gigantic magnet that called for me. I could simply just move my hand and intertwined his fingers with mine. Or lean in closer, rest my head on his shoulder, feel how he wraps an arm around me, and melt in his embrace, like I had done a million times before.

But I couldn't. I had to stop that daydream of a domestic and romantic life with Spencer. It wasn't healthy. It wasn't sane. But most of all: I wasn't real. And I was never going to move forward in life if I kept thinking those movie nights meant something.

- "More popcorn?- Spencer handed me the bowl, and I shook my head- "You have been awfully quiet considering we are watching Coraline."

- "Well, we are supposed to watch the movie in silence,"- I answered and didn't take my eyes from the screen.

- "You have never done that."

- "Maybe I wanted to give it a try."

I grabbed a bunch of popcorn just to keep myself busy. I could feel Spencer's eyes on me, and it was killing me ‘cos I knew I didn't have to look at him. If I did, I wasn't sure how I would react. I was overthinking everything and anything you might think of.

- "Are you ok?"

- "Yeah. Sure."

No, I wasn't.

- "(Y/N), can you look at me?"- Spencer paused the movie and turned to me. I hesitated, thinking my best friend is an amazing profiler, and I didn't want him to know how I felt about him ‘cos it didn't want to ruin our friendship.

After a few seconds, I moved on the couch and raised an eyebrow. His brown eyes stared into mine in silence for a moment, trying to read me.

- "What is going on?"

- "Nothing,"- I lied and frowned- "Why are you so obsessed with the idea something is going on?"

- "‘Cos I have this… feeling."

- "You got a feeling?"- I chuckled, trying to be funny but failing completely. In the end, I just stared into his eyes for what seemed to be a million years but were, in fact, just a few seconds.

- "Are we ok?"

- "Of course, we are, Spencer."

- "You never call me that"- he frowned immediately, almost hurt.

- "What?"

- "You just call me Spencer when we are on a case, and there are people around us. But when we are home, I'm never Spencer to you."

"When we are home." That killed me. I hadn't realized how badly I wanted that to be our home, to have a life with Spencer.

I was in love with my best friend. I was spending every single hour of every single day of my life with him. That wasn't right! If I knew he didn't have feelings for me, why was I doing that to myself?

- "(Y/N)?"- Spencer's voice took me from my thoughts. He looked so worried I didn't know how to convince him there wasn't anything wrong, considering it felt like everything was wrong.

- "What is it?"

- "Please tell me what's wrong."

- "I told you, nothing is wrong. I just called you Spencer. That's your name. It's a lovely name. I had never met someone called Spencer ever before in my entire life. You just called me (Y/N), not pumpkin, cupcake, chipmunk, or ma chère,"- he sighed, frustrated and maybe a little annoyed.

- "Nothing is wrong, honey. I'm really ok. Just tired, maybe feeling a little invaded with Seaver in the team"- I knew he knew I hated her, so I had to blame her in a way.

- "Why?"

- "You know I'm not her fan... I hate working with her,"- I kind of chuckled at my own words because I was trying to make a joke out of my awful reality.

- "It's just for a few weeks,"- he tried to reassure me, probably to ease my mood, but the truth was I hated how it always felt like he was defending her.

- "One week, one day, it's the same torture,"- I shook my head and turned to the screen again.

- "Don't be dramatic."

- "I'm not dramatic! I just hate how she is always playing the victim ‘cos her father is a serial killer. She is clearly overcompensating! Besides, we have all gone through bad shit in our lives, and no one is using it as a tool to get things in life."

- "I don't think that's what she is doing."

- "No? Do you think she belongs at the BAU? She is a trainee agent who almost got killed in her first assignment. She works hard, and she is not stupid, I give you that. But she is not top of her class. She is not there ‘cos she is the brightest. She is there ‘cos Rossi, Hotch, and probably Prentiss felt bad for her after what happened and decided to let her hang around and learn something for a while. If you ask me, I think there are more qualified trainee agents we could use in the team, but Seaver played her "my father was a serial killer" card and got the job. And who knows how many times she had done it before, and how many times she will use it again."

Ok, that may or may not have been too hard, but it was exactly how I felt. There was a deep silence in Spencer's apartment. The movie was still paused, and after my speech, Spencer just looked at me with wide-opened eyes. I just sighed and regretted every word that had left my lips ‘cos they made me sound bitter and shallow. But at least they didn't tell him the truth: that I was jealous of the thought Seaver might get his attention. Scared that he could look at her the way he had never looked at me. Just to imagine I could bump into them kissing terrified me.

- "Maybe I should just go home,"- I whispered and tried to stand up, but Spencer grabbed my arm and pulled me back onto the couch.

- "No, please. Stay,"- his voice was a whisper but still managed to shake me.

- "I don't wanna argue with you, honey,"- I thought I would speak too loud, but no, I actually murmured, matching his tone of voice.

- "We don't have to talk about Seaver anymore. Just watch the movie with me. You love this movie."

- "You love this book,"- I added and looked at him. He smiled. God, that smile is going to be the end of me.

- "It's just so dark! But it has such a good message."

- "Not all nice people are good people?"- I just spoke about what the book had meant to me ever since I was a little girl, and Spencer analyzed the whole plot again in less than a minute.

- "I was going to say overcoming your fears, but I like your analysis the most."

- "Of course, you do, ‘cos it's better,"- I teased and stuck out my tongue to him. Spencer just stared at me and nodded.

- "You might be right. Yours is much better,"- he kept his eyes on me for a few more seconds and continued smiling until he snapped from his thoughts- "More tea, ma chère?"

- "No, honey, thank you. I'm good."

I cut him a quick smile and sat back on the couch, trying to relax. I knew it was going to be impossible, but I honestly didn't want to leave. I wanted to be with him. I had stayed home alone the whole weekend, hidden underneath a pile of blankets, in something that looked pretty much like a fort, according to Lu's words. She had stayed with me Saturday night ‘cos I told her I needed a girl's night. It was my poor attempt to stay away from Reid, and she was happy to help.

Ok, Lu didn't know I wanted to stay away from Reid. I just told her I needed a girl's night. I really didn't want to deal with all her questions. You have the right to avoid dealing with your feelings from time to time if you can. And I told Spencer Lu wasn't feeling so good, so I wanted to spend some time with her. He sounded disappointed ‘cos he was making plans for our weekend off but understood completely I needed to be with my friend.

See? Spencer made it so easy falling in love with him! He was so thoughtful it freaking hurt!

I couldn't fight the feeling anymore and rested my head on his shoulder. It felt he was waiting for me to make that move, ‘cos in a few seconds, his arm was wrapped around me protectively.

- "I know Lu needed you, but you missed a whole weekend of cuddling on this couch watching your favorite movies with me,"- Spencer whispered, bumping his head carefully against mine. I bit my lips and smiled, not taking my eyes away from the screen.

- "We do this pretty often"- that was all I could answer.

- "At least once a week for the last… thirteen-month two weeks, and… four days."

- "I love how precise you can be when it comes to our friendship, honey."

Calling it a friendship hurt me at that point, but it was what it was. Spencer chuckled and just nodded. We enjoyed our company in silence for a moment. His fingers drawing figures on my arm and my head resting on his shoulder, letting his smell invade me. It was heaven.

We were finally watching the movie… though what I really wanted was to watch a movie with Spencer instead of actually watching it. But that was the nature of our relationship. We were friends. Friends don't watch movies.

- "No way,"- I argued when his cellphone rang and interrupted our moment- "Please tell me we don't have a case."

- "We don't,"- he quickly answered and picked up the phone- "Hello? Hi… it's ok, tell me"- he didn't stand up or moved from me. He kept holding me tight against his body and finished his call by simply saying.

- "We can meet tomorrow at seven at work. I can help you with your test."- I hated those words immediately.

- "It's not a problem, see you tomorrow. Bye."

I was afraid to ask ‘cos I knew the answer. The knot on my stomach was the fair warning of what had just happened. That bitch had ruined our moment yet again.

- "What are you doing tomorrow at seven?"- I did my best to sound as casual as possible, but I knew that conversation might not end well. He hesitated. I could nearly hear his neurons struggling to find the correct answer to that question. Until he simply whispered:

- "Please don't get mad."

- "Why would I?"

- "‘Cos Ashley just called to ask me to help her study for a test…"

I took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds, doing my best to calm myself down at least a little before speaking.

- "I'm not mad, Spencer,"- I tried to lie as smoothly as possible. I even cut him a smile and looked into his hazel and confused eyes.

- "I know you don't like her, but I had offered to help in case she needed any… what?"

- "I'm not mad, really,"- I smiled again and turned to the screen- "We said we were not going to argue, and besides, she just called to ask you for help. That's not something to be mad about, right?"

Technically I wasn't mad. I was beyond furious.

- "Are you sure?"- he narrowed his eyes, baffled- "Not that I want you to be mad or something, but we just argued over her, and you said you felt invaded by her… so…"

- "Yes, but I don't wanna argue anymore. I don't want you to think I hate Seaver because I don't. And most of all, I don't want her to be the reason we fight. I don't wanna fight with you. Ever."

Spencer sighed, relieved, and smiled, pleased with my answer.

Spencer's point of view

Something felt off the following day when I walked into the bullpen and saw Ashley waiting for me by my desk with two cups of coffee. (Y/N) had said everything was ok, and I decided I wanted to believe her. But I had an awful feeling about everything that was going on.

- "Hi!"- Ashley smiled and handed me a cup- "Figured you might appreciate one of these for making you wake up earlier."

- "Thank you"- I smiled awkwardly and held the cup- "Are you ready?"

- "Yes, I brought all the notes from the class and my books…"- she set them on her desk and giggled as I went through her notes, sipping my cup- "I feel back in high school…"

- "Why?"

- "I wasn't the best student back then, and I always had to ask my classmates for help,"- I couldn't help but think of something (Y/N) had said the night before.

- "And are you a good student at the academy?"

- "Yes, I think. I'm not in the top three of my class, but I have good grades. I'm just not… a genius, like you."

Her eyes lingered on my face, and her cheeks blushed after a few seconds. I frowned, not getting why she was embarrassed. Was it just ‘cos she didn't have the same honorifics as I did?

- "I don't believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified,"- I simply answered, remembering how many times in my life I had ever said something like that. Way too many, to be honest.

It was hard to focus on the subject when Seaver kept asking me personal questions every five minutes. She seemed more interested in knowing about my childhood in Las Vegas than learning about profiling and victimology.

- "Good morning, kids!"- I turned around and smiled at Morgan, so glad to see him I might have actually felt a little relieved- "What are you doing here so early?"

- "Hey! I was just helping Ashley with her test,"- I stood up and walked from her desk over his- "And about you?"

- "I have a meeting with Strauss in a while, and Sanderson's case didn't let me sleep. It was better to come here and start working than to keep on rolling on my bed. But I'm glad you are here. Wanna help me go through a few extra files?"

- "Of course!"- I left the notes I was holding on the closest desk and walked with Morgan to the conference room.

I considered our session with Seaver finished, mostly ‘cos for the last ten minutes, she had been asking about me. What I liked doing outside the BAU, favorite bands, hobbies, anything. I answered her questions and kept trying to push her to study. I didn't want her to blame me if she failed her test.

- "Hey, kid."- Morgan whispered after a few minutes and took a look around, just to make sure no one else was near. I looked at him confused ‘cos he was never that careful to say anything in the office.

- "Is everything ok?"

- "Yes?"- I answered, though it sounded like a question ‘cos I wasn't sure what he was talking about.

- "Are you excited to have Seaver on the team for the next month?"- I shrugged and kept reading the file in my hands- "Come on, Reid. She is clearly sweet to you."

- "I don't know what you are talking about."

- "She has a crush on you, kid."

- "No, she doesn't!"

- "Come on! Are you blind?"- I stared at Morgan, not getting what he was talking about- "Man, Seaver gives you loving eyes even when we are on the field!"

- "She does not!"- I knew I was blushing. I hated those kinds of conversations, and Morgan always made me feel awkward when he hinted I should flirt with a girl or just talk to them.

- "And I would appreciate it if you didn't say anything like that ever again."

- "What's the matter, kid? You don't think she is pretty?"

- "I don't look at her that way!"- I buried my head in a file and tried not to notice how he scanned my whole face, looking for micro expressions.

- "I see. Are you afraid (Y/N) might get jealous?"- Morgan chuckled at his words and tapped on my back a few times, making me flinch- "Relax, man. I'm just kidding!"

- "I don't like those jokes, Derek. Really."

Morgan kept his eyes on me a little longer and nodded. I did my best not to show how I really felt, but somehow, I failed miserably.

- "You know, kid, it would be much easier if you just told (Y/N) how you feel about her,"- Derek's voice was soft and even more concerned than I thought he could be. I nearly shook when I heard him, so I failed my mission of remaining stoic.

- "Reid, it's ok. There's nothing wrong with having feelings for her."

- "I don't… like talking about this,"- I whispered and closed the file- "Can we just focus on work, please?"- Derek nodded and stayed quiet for a few seconds. But I knew he wasn't done yet.

- "Reid, listen. I know you are not really fond of sharing how you feel with us, I know you share almost everything that happens in your life with (Y/N), and as your friend, I've always felt glad and relieved to know you have her. But if there's something you can't tell her, and you need to talk to someone, you can count on me. You know that, right?"

I nodded and looked at him. That conversation took me back to the year I was using and had to keep it secret from my friends. I knew I could count on Morgan if anything happened, but I really wasn't comfortable sharing my thoughts, feelings, and fears with people. (Y/N) made it so easy. Was it ‘cos I loved her? I just always felt I could tell her anything. That had never happened to me before with anyone.

- "Morgan, Strauss was looking for you,"- Rossi walked into the room holding a cup of coffee and stared at us, raising an eyebrow- "Everything ok?"

- "Yes, we were just going through some files,"- Morgan stood up and grabbed the case folder- "I'll be right back."

- "I'll finish reading all these,"- I said and pointed at the box filled with more files. Morgan nodded and walked away.

- "Do you need any help?"- Seaver walked over that second and smiled at me. I stood up and shook my head.

- "Thanks, but I'm basically done. I'll just go make myself another cup of coffee."

- "I'll go with you!"- she smiled and waited for me by the door. Rossi looked at me and raised an eyebrow. I just cut him a straight smile and walked to the kitchenette, followed closely by Ashley.

(Y/N) walked into the bullpen that minute. I watched her as she opened the glass door and took out her jacket. It felt like the time passed in slow motion as she walked. I couldn't help it, I just smiled as soon as our eyes crushed, and for a few seconds, life was perfect. Just to know she was there, smiling at me made everything worth living.

See why I couldn't tell anyone how I was feeling? They would make fun of me. Morgan would never understand the agony and the dimension of my love for her. He would just tease me. I wonder if he had ever actually been in love 'till that point in life.

I didn't want anyone to know what was happening to me ‘cos I was sure they would make fun of me, and that was the last thing I needed at that moment. So I did what I knew best: I locked it all inside and waited for it to burn me alive.

- "Good morning, chipmunk!"- I stood by (Y/N)'s side and smiled as she left her things on her desk and turned to me. She just looked into my eyes, and my brain turned into mush.

- "Good morning, honey bunny. Did you sleep well? You look tired."

- "Yeah, I just got up extra early today to help Seaver, and now I was helping Derek with some files."

- "Do you need a hand?"

- "Sure!"- I didn't even analyze my answer. I just spit the words, thinking it would be amazing to spend some time with my friend, working together.

- "Hi (Y/N), how are you?"- that until her face changed completely when Seaver waved at her- "Spencer, do you want me to make your coffee?"- I froze and turned to her in silence.

- "No, thank you. I'll… just… wait a little before having another one. I just had my third cup."

- "Three cups in already"- (Y/N) narrowed her eyes and turned to her desk, giving me her back- "How long have you been awake?"

- "Not as long as Morgan, I tell you that,"- I pointed at him, walking out of Strauss's office and heading back to our conference room.

- "Let's help him, then."

(Y/N) walked quickly, and I followed closely. I wished I hadn't said no to that coffee. I really needed one to go through that morning.

During that morning, Derek questioned Sanderson again and finally took him and Rossi back to his house, trying to trigger any memory that might help us crack the case. Meanwhile, the rest of the team and I stayed back in the office, repeatedly going through the case files. So far, all we knew is that a team had attacked Sanderon's home and framed him for the murder of his wife and daughter.

The whole day, I focused on work ‘cos it's my favorite escape, and clearly, there was something more important to think of than whatever was going on with my life. But my head was killing me. The migraines were starting to get more intense, and I think they got worse the more thinking I gave to my relationship with (Y/N).

- "It sounds like we need to profile a dormant killer"- Ashle's voice surprised me when I was pouring myself a cup of fresh coffee in the kitchenette.

- "A very lucky one. He was essentially given a gift, a patsy in the form of Don Sanderson, and he'll do anything to protect that story."- I answered, thinking I didn't want to be in Sanderon's shoes, trying to clear my name of something I hadn't done.

- "When someone has a secret this big, everything becomes a lie."

Somehow, Seaver's words hit me. I'm sure she didn't mean to strike a nerve, but she did. I had been in love with my best friend for too long, and now it was starting to affect my life. I didn't want it to get in the way of work, and we were at work most of our time together. But there was nothing I could do about it. I just had to keep on faking everything was normal.

- "He'll most likely be pathological,"- I nearly choked at my own words as I tried to shake away the thoughts from my head.

- "So, we're looking for a liar in D. C. I thought we were trying to narrow this down."- Ashley tried to joke and waited for my reaction but didn't get anything. Instead, I just cut her a straight smile and walked away.

By the end of the night, Morgan had gotten the unsub. But I was still a mess. It had been the longest day in weeks, not just ‘cos I had barely slept the night before, but because I was overthinking everything that happened around me. It was exhausting.

- "Are you coming, Batsy?"- (Y/N) asked me and grabbed her bag after putting on her coat. I stood from my desk and nodded.

- "Yes, ma chère."

- "Where are you guys going tonight?"- Derek asked and smiled at us- "No. Don't tell me, planning this year's matching Comic-Con costumes"- I chuckled and probably blushed, busted.

- "We already settled those, Derek. We are way ahead of schedule this year,"- (Y/N) answered and stuck out her tongue to him.

- "(Y/N), can you give me a second before you go?"- Prentiss stood up and smiled at my friend, who just nodded and walked with her to the conference room. Derek and Seaver looked at me.

- "What?"

- "Do you know what's that about?"- Morgan questioned me.

- "I have no idea."

(Y/N)'s point of view

- "Please don't freak out,"- Emily smiled and turned to me after she closed the door behind her back- I just needed to clear the air a little bit between us.

- "What? Why? Is there something wrong?"

- "I don't know, I just feel you have been acting weird lately, and I needed to know if it has something to do with me supervising Seaver."

I nearly gasped. Not ‘cos I felt insulted but ‘cos I felt caught. I knew I hadn't been subtle about my feelings for Seaver. I just didn't want them to get in the middle of work.

- "I haven't been weird with you, Emily, and I don't think I've been acting strange."

- "Come on, you don't like Ashley, and I offered to supervise her while she works with us."

- "Yes, but neither of those has anything to do with me and you. We are friends, Emily."

- "I know, and I wanna honor that friendship, (Y/N). I love working with you. I just want you to know I'm not… I just… I'm trying to help Seaver start her career."

- "I understand that. We are ok,"- I tried to reassure her, but I knew she could read between my bullshit.

- "Do you think you could try to be a little bit nicer with her?"

- "Nicer?"

- "Yes, (Y/N). She is making an effort to get along with the team, and you've been giving her the cold shoulder since day one." -I crossed my arms on my chest, obviously annoyed and defensive.

- "I have been friendly with her, Emily. I just don't like her, and you can't force me to be her friend."

In my defense, in my mind, that argument didn't sound as childish as it did when I said it out loud.

- "Don't be selfish! Just because you are jealous, you can't deprive her of the opportunity of a lifetime with this team."

Emily's words were knives against my ego and nearly destroyed my facade. I stared into her eyes and wondered how to get out of that situation without hurting my friend. I could pretend I didn't know what she was talking about, but we both knew that was bullshit. I could actually try to tell her how I felt, but it was so humiliating I refused to open up. So instead, I just nodded and smiled at her.

- "I'm sorry that's how you see me. I'll try to be a better version of myself tomorrow,"- and needless to say, I turned around and left.

- "(Y/N), please wait,"- but I didn't stop walking. I refused to continue talking about Seaver with anyone. I refused to deal with feelings or the real world.

- "Everything ok?"- Spencer asked me the second he saw me appear by his side.

- "Yes,"

- "You are blushing. Did you and Prentiss argue?"

- "No, honey. We didn't argue. She just wanted to check on me ‘cos she was worried I was mad at her. But that's all."- Spencer just nodded and looked at me in silence.- "Why don't we just go home and forget about today, honey?"

Easier said than done.

So Seaver was getting under my skin. And it was getting harder to control. That week was hell, and I didn't want to show it. Eventually, I talked with Emily again, and I tried to explain to her I wasn't being mean with Seaver. I just didn't like her. And though I gave Emily my word to be friendlier with Ashley, the circumstances weren't really helping.

Things didn't get any better than Friday night. No, if anything, that was the night that made it all worse. Prentiss, JJ, and I got together at Garcia's house and had a few drinks before leaving for Anderson's birthday. I was making my biggest effort to have fun and ease my mind. Spencer said he wasn't sure he'd make it ‘cos he was tired, and automatically I almost turned out the whole deal, but Penelope literally dragged me to her house and put a beer in my hand.

- "You, my young lady, are going to put some makeup on, a hot dress, and we are going to party!"

- "But PG, I'm not…"- but she didn't let me out of it. Instead, she shushed me and raised an eyebrow, looking pretty convincing.

- "No "but." You are going. End of the conversation."

So she dragged me to the bar, along with Prentiss and JJ, who had left Will with little Henry to join us for what was promised to be one epic girl's night.

Anderson was so happy to see us. He was a sweetheart who was always willing to help us. I knew technically he didn't work at the BAU, but he was always there whenever we needed him. We all felt he was part of the team.

- "Sonny!!"- I yelled and hugged him tight

- "I'm so glad you girls made it!!"- and his smile was priceless- "JJ!!"- he actually yelled when he saw her and ran to give her a triple bear hug.

- "Grant Anderson!! I can't believe it's really you!!"

- "I've missed you so much!! How's Henry?"

- "So big!! I feel I haven't been out with friends in so long!"- JJ looked around, and her face kept lighting up as she recognized more friends and acquaintances from Quantico. I looked around and recognized Morgan already flirting with a woman at the other side of the bar.

- "Looks like chocolate thunder knows how to keep himself busy,"- I joked, and Garcia turned immediately.

- "Have you ever seen him shirtless?"- she asked in a lower voice and leaned a little closer to me, just to make sure no one would listen- "I'm sure it's illegal looking so good in real life."

I laughed and turned to see Prentiss walk to the bar to get us the first round of drinks. Ok, I'll admit it, I was having a great time. I know I didn't want to go at first, but spending time with my work friends and not just with Spencer was refreshing. Not that I didn't do fun things with the rest of the team, but my relationship with Spencer, I mean the friendship that pretty much looked like a relationship, consumed most of my time. But I just loved being with Reid more than anything.

But one night without him wasn't going to be the end of the world. Right?

Right.

Anderson and I danced and laughed. It was all very innocent. And though I've never considered myself a hot chick or whatever, a few guys asked if they could get me drinks, and I kindly declined. I wasn't looking for a one-night stand or anything. I just wanted to have fun with my friends.

- "And where's Reid?"- Anderson asked as we reached our table, where Prentiss and JJ were catching up and laughing.

- "Home, he said he was tired."

- "And? When are you two going to come clean about your relationship? You know, having the confirmation of your romance would be the best birthday present you could ever give me."

- "Grant Anderson, you nosy bastard!!"- I hit his arm and heard his laughter- "You know we are not dating!"

- "Come on!! I mean it! You have to get together! You are like the FBI sweethearts!!"

- "Shut your face!"- Anderson laughed even harder and took a look around the bar

- "So, if you are not dating Spencer, I have a friend who asked about you."

- "Who? What friend? Is he here?"- Garcia shouted question after question as she had overheard the whole conversation and even moved closer.

- "His name is James. He saw you on the news a few months ago, at a press conference with Rossi, and has been asking about you ever since."

I frowned and looked at Garcia, who was wide-eyed staring at Anderson. I had no idea what was going on. It was bizarre.

- "No, thank you?"- I whispered, not even sure of what I should answer at that- "I'm very flattered, Grant, but… I'm really not looking for someone right now."

- "You are not?"- Garcia asked me, and I just shook my head.

- "No, I have too much going on in my life, with work and… well… what we do…"

- "Really?"- Anderson sounded a little disappointed- "Well, in case you change your mind, James is…"

- "(Y/N)? Can I talk to you for a second?"- Garcia grabbed my arm and crawled me to a side of the bar.

- "What? What is it?"

- "Munchkin, you know I love you."

- "Yes, I love you too, PG."

- "That's why I feel like I need to be honest with you, ‘cos you've always been so sweet, and we've known each other for years now, and I feel like if I don't tell you this, you are never going to forgive me."- Penelope was nearly hyperventilating as she spoke.

- "Ok, what is it? You are scaring me."

- "You have to tell Reid how you feel."

- "What?"

- "He has to know! You have to tell him!"

- "I don't wanna talk about what, Penelope"- I tried to walk away from her, but she stopped me, grabbed my arm, and pulled me back.

- "No, (Y/N). He loves you, I'm not a profiler, I don't even play one on tv, but I am sure what I see in his eyes when he looks at you is love… ‘cos it's the same you have when you look at him!"

- "Son of a bitch!!"- the words escaped my lips as my heart nearly left my chest.

- "No, (Y/N)!"- but Garcia lost my attention that second, ‘cos all I could see was Spencer Walter Reid walking into the bar and Ashley Seaver hanging from his arm.

- "What do you want me to tell him, Garcia? To have fun with his new girlfriend?"- I pointed at the door, and her jaw nearly hit the floor.

- "Ok, no. There has to be a reasonable explanation for that!"

- "Yes, but Spencer being in love with me is not the explanation. I'm gonna get a drink."

Spencer's point of view

I was surprised to get Ashley's phone call that night. When my phone rang, I was ready to go to bed. My head was killing me. I had already scheduled an appointment with the doctor for some exams. I was starting to have a bad feeling about what those headaches really were, and I was too scared to tell anyone what was going on. Not even (Y/N).

Actually, of all people, she was the one I wanted to keep in the dark. Why? ‘Cos ever since we met she had taken care of me, I didn't think it was fair. She had taken me into her life and given me a place in it. And sometimes, I felt I was a burden. She helped me overcome all of my traumas and even my drug addiction. She introduced me to her best friends and made me part of her life. (Y/N) had taken trips with me to Las Vegas just to see my mom, ‘cos she knew it was hard for me to do it on my own. If it hadn't been for her, I would have probably spent over a year without visiting her. Now, we took a weekend to see mom every few months.

Why would I trouble her with some headaches? It wasn't fair.

When Ashley called, for a moment, I thought it might be (Y/N), asking me to pick her up. But no. It wasn't her that time.

- "Hey Spence, I'm sorry to bother you, but… are you at Anderson's party?"

- "No, actually, I'm in my house."

- "Why? I thought you were invited too."

- "Yeah, I know, and I was, but I'm kind of tired, and I wanted to come home and get some rest. Why? Are you at the party?"

- "No, but I was getting ready to go. But now I feel kind of awkward asking you."

- "What? What is it?"

- "I just… wanted to know if you could come with me. I'm so sorry, Spence, I didn't know you were tired. I just… I wanted to go to the party, but I feel kind of silly going alone. I wanted to ask Prentiss, but she left with (Y/N) and Garcia, and I felt so awkward asking…"

I wanted to groan, roll in my bed and hide under my pillow. But Ashley was the new girl, and she deserved to have some fun.

- "Don't worry, I'll take you there,"- I know I whispered my answer ‘cos I didn't really want to do it, but somehow I felt it was my duty.

- "Really?!"- and by the excitement in Ashley's voice, it was clear that was what she wanted to hear.

- "I'll pick you up in half an hour, ok?"

- "Thank you so much, Spence!!"

But when I walked into the bar, I knew I had made a mistake. I felt it in my guts. The same intuition I never followed in my personal life, only on the field.

I quickly looked around as Ashley held on to my arm tightly and walked into the bar with a big smile. I soon found Prentiss and JJ talking at a table filled with empty glasses, and my heart jumped inside my chest at the warm, familiar feeling that my friends gave me. I missed JJ very much. And not just as a team member but as a friend who had been taken away from us. (Y/N) always said I didn't know how to deal with change, neither did she, and the shifts in the team always affected me.

Soon I saw Morgan too, talking with Anderson and some other agents. Garcia had to be close then, but I couldn't see her or (Y/N) anywhere around.

- "Come on! Let's get a drink!"- Ashley said and crawled me to the bar.

- "I don't drink and drive"- I said, and she pouted.

- "Come on! You are no fun! Just one!"

- "No, just water. Thanks,"- I turned and scanned the place. Everybody was there, and they seemed to be having fun. Penelope waved and walked to me suddenly. She cut me a short smile and grabbed my arm.

- "Hey, what the hell are you doing here?"

- "I didn't want to come, but Ashley insisted and…"

- "Hi!"- Ashley appeared by our side and handed me a bottle of water- "I'm so excited to be here! We really needed to decompress after everything that happened this week, right Garcia?"

Penelope stared at us, trying to formulate an answer. I could see her making her bet to say something, but she just didn't. Instead, she just turned around and walked away.

- "Is she ok?"- I didn't know how to answer that, ‘cos Penelope's reaction surprised me. Ashley just looked around and grabbed my arm again.

- "Come on, Spencer! Let's dance!"

- "No, I don't… dance, sorry."

Lucky for me, Prentiss showed up and invited us to sit with her at her table. I don't know if she noticed I was uncomfortable, but I was glad to see her. Being in that bar made me feel pretty awkward and exposed.

I had never been much of a party person. I wasn't used to bars and gatherings until I joined the BAU. When I first met Derek, he tried to take me out a few times and be my wingman. It's obvious he failed at that mission. Meeting people at a bar is the most complicated equation I could ever try to solve. It doesn't work for me, no matter how hard Derek pushed me to do it. He said I had to rely on what made me feel comfortable. But no. It wasn't that I couldn't meet people. It was that I didn't want to meet anyone once I met the woman of my dreams. Even when I knew she could never be mine.

When (Y/N) came along, she started hosting these fun "dinner parties" with Frank, Lu, and Mikey, which changed everything. It was the first time I was hanging out with people my age doing things I actually liked doing. It wasn't about drinking or picking girls in a bar. It was about playing Jenga, or charades, eating pizza, and talking about movies and sometimes even books.

(Y/N) said her friends considered me part of the gang, which was all I ever wanted to hear. That I belonged. It's kind of sad when you think about it, but I don't care. I had never felt like I belonged anywhere, and they made me feel like I was one of them. They took me to their rock shows, and I jumped along with the crowd, knowing I wasn't an outcast there. I was with my friends.

You don't know how good that made me feel. And for years, they were my social comfort and cocoon. Then, when Rossi joined the BAU again, he started hosting fancy dinner parties at his house, and I got to hang out with the whole team without being at a bar, pushed to meet people. And it was so good. (Y/N) always said Rossi's arrival had a cohesive effect on us. Not because he brought us together, but the circumstances of his arrival and everything that happened that first year.

This team is no stranger to trauma, and that's a fact. I think Rossi's dinner parties gave us a space to be ourselves, relax, have a few drinks and enjoy our time together. I think that's when we stepped from being friends to be family.

And I hadn't had one before.

I hugged JJ tight as soon as I saw her smiling at me. I hadn't seen her ever since her goodbye party, over two months before, but we had talked on the phone a few times.

- "I've missed you so much, Spence!!"- she said and held my face with both hands- "You and (Y/N) owe me two babysit nights,"- and I laughed, thinking we promised we'd take care of Henry so she and Will could have a date, but we were called for a case.

- "Wait! It was one night!"- I argued, chuckling- "Why is it two nights now?"

- "‘Cos I lost a very exclusive reservation due to the two of you."

- "Technically, it wasn't our fault, we were called in for a case..."

I smiled and sat next to JJ, and Prentiss sat next to me. Ashley stood by the table and smiled at JJ. Right, they didn't even know each other.

- "It's very nice to meet you, Agent Jareau. The team talks very highly of you,"- she shook JJ's hand and smiled.

- "Ashley, right? Prentiss was just telling me you will be taking your remedial training at the BAU. Congratulations, it's a fantastic team to work with."

- "Thank you,"- I took a look around, still trying to find my best friend around. But it seemed useless, and I was starting to feel worried.

- "Where's (Y/N)?"- I had to ask.

- "She was with Anderson a minute ago,"- Penelope said and looked around- "I am going to look for her and bring her here in a second. I'll be right back."

And so, she was gone.

Prentiss and I pretty much interrogated JJ about her new job and the new team she worked with at the pentagon. I sipped my water and half-listened her answer, ‘cos most of my head was trying to register what was going on around me. No, actually, I was trying to find (Y/N). Penelope had been gone for half an hour looking for her, and I was starting to think something weird was going on. Besides, my head was killing me, and all I wanted was to go home. But I hadn't seen JJ in weeks, and I couldn't waste a chance like that.

Ashley talked with Prentiss too, and every once in a while, she tried to engage in conversation with me. But to be honest, I couldn't really concentrate on anything. I just wanted to know (Y/N) was alright.

- "Excuse me,"- I stood up slowly and looked at my friends- "I'm going to the bathroom, be right back."

- "Can you get us another round on our way back?"- Prentiss asked and smiled guiltily.

- "Sure."

- "Do you need help?"- Ashley tried to stand up, but Emily stopped her.

- "He got it, don't worry."

So I was left on my own. I walked around the bar. In my mind, I kept telling myself I was "looking for the bathroom," but I knew very well I was indeed trying to find (Y/N). I had been in that bar for an hour, and I still hadn't seen her. I was worried.

I walked around the bar and found Anderson. He seemed to be a little shocked to see me there but smiled and hugged me. It was weird hugging people, still. But Anderson was part of the team. It always felt like it. We had known each other for years, and somehow it was like he was in the background of our daily basics.

- "Have you seen (Y/N)?"- I asked him, and he widened his eyes- "What?"

- "Yeah, she's right there, actually… "- Grant Anderson pointed and turned around- "Later, Reid."

- "Bye"- I didn't even look at him. I just turned and looked around to see (Y/N).

But my best friend didn't notice me. She was too busy kissing some guy.

I stood in front of her, not knowing what to do. Her eyes were closed, and her arms were around his neck, so clearly, she wasn't in distress, and no matter how badly I wanted to take her from him, I just couldn't.

For a minute, I couldn't believe my eyes. I just stood there and stared at (Y/N), trying to understand what was going on. I always knew she wasn't meant to be mine, but I had never gotten such a brutal reminder. Not even when she was dating Paul. Watching her kissing someone else was shocking. The way that man put his hands on her waist and held her close to him, just like I always dreamt of doing, was painful.

Painful. That was the only word I can explain how it felt.

I stood there for a minute or so. I really don't know how long it was, but it felt long enough to burn in my memory everything I needed to torture myself with for the rest of my life. I stepped back after a minute. It might have been longer; I really can't recall. And all I managed to do was to walk out of the bar and reach my car.

I opened the door and slammed it as I sat behind the wheel. I wanted to cry and yell. But I didn't do either of those. Instead, I stayed still, staring at the nothing in front of me, trying to erase that fresh memory from my head. But it was impossible. (Y/N) was making out with some guy inside that bar, and there was nothing I could do to stop her. So I did the only thing I could do at that minute. I started the car and got the fuck out of there.

–

DIWK Taglist:

@all-tings-diego @big-galaxy-chaos @muffin-cup @shilohpug @eternalharry @tvandfanfic @fandomtrash2405

Spencer taglist

@calm-and-doctor

General Taglist

@spenxerslut @ash19871962 @babebenhardy @meowiemari @archer561

–

Do you want to be on the taglist or ramble about this chapter with me? Just send me a message here.

Next update: June 23th, 2021

#Spencer Reid #Criminal Minds #Matthew Gray Gubler #Babymetaldoll writes #spencer reid x reader #Spencer Reid fanfiction #hurt #angst #fluff #fools in love #criminal minds re write #criminal minds fanfic #derek morgan #emily prentiss #penelope garcia #david rossi #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfictions #diwk

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carewyncromwell · 3 years ago

Photo

“For one so small, you seem so strong... My arms will hold you, Keep you safe and warm. This bond between us can't be broken... I will be here -- don't you cry...” ~“You’ll Be In My Heart (Radio Version)” by Phil Collins

x~x~x~x

Okay, after that last piece I did with Jacob Cromwell, I figured he deserved some happiness -- so here’s a snapshot of Jacob and Carewyn from a happier time...namely, at 16 and 7 years old respectively, before Jacob got fully ensnared in R’s web. This would’ve been the same year that -- as referenced in the game Hogwarts Mystery -- R targeted Carewyn and Rakepick ended up protecting her...and for those of you who have read the still unfinished good!Rakepick AU, I think you can totally see why Rakepick ended up protecting this sweet little child who loves her brother so much and is so, so happy to have him home.

Jacob and Carewyn Cromwell were always very close, from the moment Carewyn first appeared in Jacob’s life. Not only did their father Evan Bach kind of emotionally unplug completely from Carewyn’s life, so someone needed to fill that void, but both Jacob and Carewyn were born with very strong Legilimency potential, which made them both kind of subconsciously latch onto each other’s minds and never really let go again. Carewyn in particular, being such an empath with her abilities, made it so that she could very easily read and was very easily influenced by her brother’s feelings, and with Jacob being able to consistently predict other people’s behavior, including his sister, it made him a surprisingly good caretaker, predicting her desires even before she could properly articulate them. Because he could predict whenever baby Carewyn was about to start crying, or when she wanted to get to the other side of the room, or if she needed help reaching something, he could bridge the gap and help her with whatever she needed before anyone else. And Carewyn in return fed off of Jacob’s enthusiasm and reciprocated his encouragement and unconditional love ten-fold, knowing in the back of her own mind and heart just how much her big brother needed it. This makes it so that they really were each the best confidante they’d ever had, which -- partnered with Jacob’s intense protectiveness of his little sister -- makes it very obvious why Jacob was so terrified of R hurting her and ultimately why Carewyn’s whole world and life fell apart when her brother vanished. There’s a reason why in two incredibly angsty AU scenarios I wrote where Jacob loses Carewyn or Carewyn loses Jacob, the remaining Cromwell sibling completely falls apart -- Jacob and Carewyn truly do understand each other in a way no one else could, and that bond is only strengthened after Carewyn rescues Jacob from the Portrait Vault and they both have to fight and live together more as equals after their age gap has shrunk from nine years down to two.

Jacob’s shirt is based off this design -- those of you who can pick out the reference might understand the choice, given Jacob’s adoration for the King Arthur mythos and overall nerdiness. Meanwhile Carewyn’s dress is loosely based off of the one Anne Boleyn wears in Six the Musical, solely because I took a liking to it a long while back and so I’ve consistently draw little!Carewyn in it since the very beginning. (I headcanon it being one of only three second-hand dresses she owns and has to wear multiple times in a week.)

Hope you all have a lovely day! As always, please consider liking/reblogging/commenting, as well as checking out

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #jacob #jacob cromwell #carewyn cromwell #my art #evan bach #seriously though look at precious bean carey-bear #as if rakepick could've been expected to hurt this darling bb #I could actually see ben making black knight references too after he both toughens up and then chills TF out in year 6 #like when he's training with the circle of khanna he gets his face cut open and carey goes into fussy mama bear mode #and ben just goes 'just a flesh wound'#and carewyn's trying hard not to giggle bc damn it ben that's funny #also I had such feels listening to this song again while drawing/editing this :')#art

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taramikealson · 3 years ago

Text

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

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

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

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

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

Except for this one.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Brother, do you understand me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Enough.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Klaus-,”

“Don’t.” He begins, “not now.”

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

“I need you to listen just for once.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“May I?”

Caroline gives her a short nod and Freya smiles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Have you had this looked at before?”

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

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

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

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

“You’ve done it before, right?”

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

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

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

———————————————-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

——————————————

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

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

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

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

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

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

His lips turn up and he sips his whiskey.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Now, this is interesting.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Caroline.”

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

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

————————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A lot. She thinks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come. Let’s get you inside.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Seriously?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Go on, it won’t bite you.”

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

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

“Strike it.” He orders.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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