#which is also like why he is somewhat at a lost on his own parts in how to narrate that so he purposely didnt and kept leaving himself out | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rafesapologist · 4 months ago

Text

fade into you — rafe cameron

summary: rafe is forced to remember everything he had with you. even if it still hurts.

warnings: mature themes, swearing, angst, smut, suggestive themes.

author's note: new year means new writing format and style!! this story switches from past to present narration before anyone asks just to clear things up (also, all i am going to say is that this was inspired by 'the virgin su*cides'). this one is a bit longer than my usual cause i am unusually inspired, therefore there will be a part 2.

"tell me about your first year at college."

in that moment rafe cameron's world tilted, not in the dramatic way of an earthquake, but in the quiet way of a rug slipping from underfoot. his first year of college felt like stepping into an echo; familiar in shape but hollow. the days of the first semester were lined with the hope of possibility, the scent of booze and marijuana, the clatter of unfamiliar voices weaving into something resembling home. but it was the nights that belonged to her.

"it was tame at first, at least in my definition of it," rafe shrugs, his gaze is glued straight to his hands on the table before him. the line between his brows deepen just then, like a page creased too many times, worn out by a lifetime of regrets and mistakes he could not change. "but it turned out to be the one time in my life i won't forget."

you first appeared like the first warm light of morning, golden and effortless, slipping into rafe's world without warning. he saw you on an ordinary walk to class, the same path he had taken many times before in the weeks following, but that day, the air felt different. charged.

you moved through the crowd in a constellation of laughter, surrounded by girls whose voices blended like a song he couldn't quite catch. it was clear to him you all were close, woven together in a way that suggested endless banter and inside jokes, a language only you guys understood. but to rafe, you were the star among them, the one who made everyone look, even when you didn't mean to.

your smile was the kind that turned heads, not for its perfection but for the way it felt like sunlight breaking through. it wasn't blinding, not overwhelming, but warm, inevitable. the kind of smile that stayed with you long after you'd turned away. rafe didn't know exactly why he looked at you, only that it felt impossible not to.

for a moment, no longer than a breath, your eyes flicked in his direction. a glance, nothing more; fleeting and weightless. and yes, it pressed into him, settled somewhere beneath his ribs, somewhat like a melody waiting to be remembered.

he didn't know then—how could he?

"tell me about your first interaction with her."

it's clear that your name carries weight still. rafe's expression softens, his lips almost curving into something like a smile. almost.

half of it is warmth, the quiet flicker of a memory untouched by time. the way you laughed and lit up the dullest afternoons. the way, for a fleeting moment, you were his.

the other half is the ghost of yours and his relationship, lingering just beneath his skin. the ache of something unfinished, of something lost before he even knew how to hold onto it. rafe swallows, shifts in his chair, and brushes a thumb over the edge of his glass as if he's trying to steady himself.

"i tried to get her to notice me for weeks," rafe chuckles with nostalgia laced in his solemn voice, "i'd go walking the same paths she did on her way to class, hoping she'd eventually notice me passing by, but she was in her own world. i guess that's what made me want her even more; the challenge of getting her and the longing for what it would be like to have her."

it started small. a glance, a step closer. rafe memorized the rythms of your routine: when you'd take that walk to class, which side of the campus you favored, the way you always tucked your books under your left arm. he'd pass by, slow his pace, linger just enough for his presence to register. but every time, you were somewhere else. not physically, because you were right there, mere inches away. but in your mind, you were leagues ahead, lost in thought, lost in the daydreams he wished he could step into.

it should've deterred him. anyone else would have taken the lack of acknowledgement as disinterest, would have let you fade back into the blur of unfamiliar faces that made up college hallways and crowded sidewalks. but not rafe. the more you drifted past him, untouched and unaware, the more he wanted to know; who are you?

what was it that filled your mind so completely? what pulled your gaze down to the worn pages of your books instead of the world around you? what songs played through those headphones you sometimes wore, what words swirled in your head when you stared off into the distance?

you weren't ignoring him. he knew what that looked like. no, you were simply somewhere else. and that only made him more desperate to pull you back, to tether you to his world, to him.

he started placing himself in your way. not just hoping you'd notice—forcing it. a well-timed step into your path, a brush of shoulders in a crowded walkway, a moment where he knew you'd finally have to look at him.

but you never would.

each time, your gaze remained trained ahead, your attention on something unseen, some unspoken thought too captivating for him to break through. and yet, with every failed attempt, rafe felt himself getting pulled further into you, like a tide drawn to the shore only to crash and retreat, again and again.

none of his friends noticed; how could they? to them it was nothing, but to rafe, it became everything.

"how did you finally get her to notice you?"

the question pulls rafe back, dragging him from the depths of his memory and deposits him here, in the mundane light of the present. he exhales slowly, but there's a flicker of something in his expression, something between amusement and regret.

his fingers tighten around his glass of water, thumb tracing over the condensation forming along its edge. he doesn't answer right away. instead, he tilts his head slightly, eyes distant, like he's watching a scene play out in the space just beyond the table, just merely beyond reach.

there's that half-smile again; half warmth, half ghost.

"i had to make her," rafe finally says, voice quieter now, laced with something unspoken. "she wasn't going to notice me on her own. she was too.. caught up in her own world. i had to step into it, shake it up a little." he lets out a short breath, almost a laugh, but there's no real humor behind it.

"i don't think i realized it back then, but i was desperate. desperate for her to see me the way i saw her, to know if i was even worth being seen."

there's a pause. a shift. his fingers press into the wood of the table as if he's steadying himself.

"and when she finally did.." he trails off, eyes flickering with something unreadable. "well. i was totally encapsulated by her."

for months, rafe had still been orbiting you like a restless moon, caught up in your gravity and desperate for just one glance, one shift in your world that acknowledged his presence. but you, with your mind your mind still drifting elsewhere, never let him in.

so he devised a plan.

it was simple, really. step into your world, he thought. break through the invisible barrier that kept you from looking up and meeting reality, while he stood there waiting and aching for a moment that never came.

rafe learned about the psychology club in passing, a mention overhead in a conversation not meant for him. and that was it, that was his way in.

rafe didn't know much about psychology, other than the bare essentials; how prolonged isolation eats away at the mind, how the brain can be a cage as much as it can be an escape. maybe in some distant way, he understood the subject more than he thought. but still, he was no expert. if someone had asked him to explain cognitive dissonance or operant conditioning, he would have stared blankly, willing the words to come.

but for you? he was willing to learn. to fake it until he became it.

the day of one of the many club meetings, he showed up early, leaning against the doorway like he belonged there, like he wasn't some business major who had no idea what he was doing. the room hummed with quiet conversation, students flipping through notebooks and adjusting their seats. you sat near the middle, pen tapping absently against the cover of a worn-out textbook.

rafe forced himself to move, to step inside, to close the gaping distance. his pulse drummed beneath his skin, but outwardly, he played it cool, casual, and effortless. like this wasn't all for you.

he slid into the empty seat beside you, careful but also deliberate. just close enough to catch the faint scent of whatever perfume you wore, something light, something that made the air feel warmer somehow.

and then finally—you looked at him.

not a fleeting glance this time, not the accidental brush of eyes in a crowded hallway, but a real look, direct and questioning.

"you're in the psychology club? your voice. he swore it settled into his bones.

he grinned, slow and easy, despite the way his heart slammed against his ribs. this was the moment he had been waiting for all along.

"yeah," rafe lied smoothly." figured it was time to expand my horizons."

a hint of amusement passed through your eyes quickly, like you already saw through him, like you knew. but you didn't call him out, didn't turn away. instead, you tilted your head, considering him for the first time ever.

you study him, pen still tapping lightly against your textbook, the rhythmic sound filling the space between his lie and your hesitation. your eyes flicker over him, cautious but not unkind.

"you don't seem like the type." your voice is soft, deliberate, but there's no malice in it. just quiet observation.

rafe expected skepticism; welcomed it, even. what he didn't expect was how your voice would settle into his skin, threading through him like something already known and inevitable.

he smirks, leaning back just slightly, keeping the stance of someone unbothered, though his mind is a livewire beneath the surface.

"yeah?" he tilts his head, feigning curiosity. "and what's the type?"

you exhale, barely a laugh, before closing your textbook, fingers pressing lightly against the cover.

"someone who actually wants to be here," you say simply.

it's not an accusation, just a statement, but it lands somewhere deep in his chest. a hit, subtle yet painfully sharp. because you're right, he doesn't want to be there. not for psychology, not for the club. he wants to be there for you.

still, rafe is nothing if not quick on his feet. he leans in just slightly, just enough to close the space without making it obvious. his voice dips lower, words smooth as he shrugs.

"maybe i do want to be here. maybe you don't know me well enough to say otherwise."

your expression doesn't change. you hold his gaze, unwavering, like you're deciding something about him that even he doesn't know yet.

"i don't," you admit, your voice gentle but firm. "but i know people. and people don't usually show up to places they have no real interest in—unless they're looking for something." there it is. that careful certainty, the quiet wisdom that lingers beneath your softness. you say it without any suspicion and malice, but still, he feels caught.

rafe swallows the lump in his throat. he doesn't break eye contact.

"what if i am?" he says after a beat. "looking for something, i mean."

a pause.

something unreadable flickers in your expression. you exhale through your nose again, a slow breath, before picking your pen back up, flipping your book open again.

"then i hope you find it." and just like that, you return to whatever thought had been occupying your mind before he arrived, as if his presence, charm, and game was nowhere near enough to shake you.

for the first time in his life, rafe feels off-balance.

he watches you settle back into your book almost defeatedly, as if the conversation is already done, as if his presence is just another passing thing that's easy to dismiss.

but rafe isn't the kind of guy people dismiss, and he's sure as hell not going to let you be the first.

he breathes out while shaking his head slightly, a subtle smirk still playing at the edges of his lips. then, with the kind of boldness that always seemed to get him in trouble, he reaches out and gently turns the corner of your book toward himself, like he's trying to read over your shoulder. your fingers against the page.

slowly, you lift your eyes to him again, one brow arching, not in anger; something quieter. confusion, amusement, and maybe even intrigue.

"you know," rafe says, tilting his head, "most people would try to make a new guy feel welcome." his voice is low and teasing, but there's something real beneath it. something honest.

"you don't seem like someone who needs help fitting in." the words slip from your lips so effortlessly, so certain, and it throws him in a way he wasn't expecting. because you are right—he's never had any trouble fitting in. not at parties, or in crowds, or any room he's ever walked in for that matter. but with you, for the first time he feels like he has something to prove.

he holds your gaze, his smirk softening into something else. "maybe i don't," he admits, leaning in just a fraction, "but i do need you to talk to me. because i can't figure out if you're playing hard to get, or if i'm just that easy to ignore."

you blink at him, caught off guard by his directness. for a moment, he wonders if he pushed too far and too fast. until he suddenly hears a laugh.

it's soft and breathless. the kind of laugh that slips out before you can stop it, and have mercy on him, if that sound doesn't go straight to his chest.

"you're a lot," you say, shaking your head as you glance back at your book as if you're trying to compose yourself. rafe grins in return; triumphant.

"but you noticed me," rafe points out, "so i must be doing something right."

you exhale, still amused but guarded, as if you're still trying to figure him out, to see if there's something about him. and finally, you give in. just a little.

"fine," you say, closing your book again and resting your elbow on the desk. "if you're really going to be here, tell me something—what actually interests you about psychology?" it's a test. a challenge. you know he doesn't belong here, and you're daring him to prove otherwise.

rafe leans back in his chair as he pretends to think, though he already has the answer.

"you," he says simply.

there it is again; a flicker of something in your expression. but this time, you don't let him win so easily.

"that's not an answer," you reply smoothly.

he laughs, shaking his head.

"alright, alright," he concedes before his voice dips into something quieter, more genuine, "i guess.. people interest me. why they think the way they do. why they make the choices they make." you tilt your head slightly, watching him. and this time, he knows you're taking him seriously.

"that's a decent answer," you admit, "even if it's probably bullshit." rafe grins once more, but this time it's softer and real.

"guess you'll have to stick around to find out." and for the first time, you don't dismiss him. you just sit there, watching him, thinking just maybe, you might.

"that day," rafe murmurs, his fingers tracing idle patterns against the condensation of his glass, almost as though he's talking to himself. "that was the start of it all."

there's a pause. a shift in his expression similar to the look of someone who is being haunted.

"i asked her out shortly after," rafe admits, his voice carrying the weight of something unfinished. she hesitated, of course she did. she was cautious and i was.." his smirk is brief, self-deprecating, "i was me." a chuckle, small but real.

"but i wasn't going to let her brush me off so easily. i made sure to take her somewhere she'd feel comfortable. somewhere safe. somewhere she wouldn't regret saying yes to."

"how did you ask her?"

for a second rafe says nothing, just remembers. then, he answers truthfully.

it was an afternoon weighed down by the promise of rain, clouds stretched thin but looming, casting a dim glow over campus. the air smelled of damp earth and cooling pavement, the kind of scent that felt like change.

you were walking ahead of him towards the psych club meeting, your bag slung over your should, fingers absently twisting the strap as if lost in thought. rafe had spent days, weeks, playing scenarios in his head, running through all the ways he could say it. he wasn't the type to hesitate or plan, but with you? it had to be right.

so, was he fell into step beside you, he didn't waste time.

"go out with me."

your step faltered just slightly, barely noticeable, but he caught it. your head turned to him with your brows raised, expression unreadable as usual. half of it showing you were caught off guard, half something he couldn't quite name.

"go out with you?" the way you said it, slow and careful, like you were rolling the words in your mouth to see how they tasted.

rafe huffed a quiet luagh, shoving his hands into his pockets as he walked. "yeah. i know you heard me."

you studied him for a beat, your face still unreadable. "and what makes you think i'd say yes?"

rafe tilted his head slightly, considering, before giving you that look—the one that had disarmed more people than he could count. "because i'd make sure you wouldn't regret it."

silence.

then finally, you sighed, turning back towards the sidewalk ahead. "where?" and just like that, the grip around his ribs loosened, the breath he didn't realize he was holding finally slipping free. he grinned, triumphant but not cocky, like he'd just opened the first page of a story he'd been dying to read.

"you'll see."

that weekend, when rafe arrived at your dorm, it wasn't just you waiting for him. your friends are gathered behind you in the doorway, watching him intently; unspoken scrutiny. the kind of silent, collective judgement usually reserved for overprotective parents.

they weren't just watching, they were assessing.

rafe took it in stride, offering them a lopsided smile as if this was nothing new, as if he wasn't completely aware that they were mentally quizzing him, calculating if he was worth even a second of your time.

you, meanwhile, exhaled slowly, rubbing your temple as if you were already exhausted. "guys—"

one of them, a girl with sharp eyes and crossed arms, cut you off. "so, what exactly are your intentions?"

rafe blinked, momentarily thrown, before letting out a small laugh. "you're really doing this?"

another friend, short but no less intense, nodded firmly. "we are."

rafe turned his gaze back to you, his eyes glinting with amusement. "they rehearsed this, didn't they?" you pinched the bridge of your nose in response.

"unfortunately."

the first girl wasn't deterred. "answer the question."

rafe shifted his weight, pretending to consider. "right now? my intentions are to take her out, making sure she enjoys herself, and bring her back in one piece." a beat, then a smirk. "long-term? guess we'll see."

you sighed, already reaching for your bag. "okay, thats enough—" but your friends weren't done.

"we'll be watching," one of them warned, narrowing her eyes.

rafe just grinned in return. "i wouldn't expect anything less." and with that, you finally stepped forward, brushing past your interrogators and out the door.

the campus was humming with the distant sounds of laughter and footsteps, the night stretched cool and quiet around you. but there, in the sliver of space between buildings and streetlights, it was just the two of you.

rafe walked a half a step ahead, his hands shoved into his pockets, his stride was easy and unhurried, like this wasn't the first date but a moment that had already happened a hundred times before. you, on the other hand, kept your arms crossed loosely over your chest, shoulders drawn in just slightly, as if holding yourself together.

it wasn't for the fact that you didn't want to be there. if that were the case, you wouldn't have come at all. it was just that rafe cameron had a way of pulling things out of you—things that you weren't sure you wanted to give.

"still not gonna tell me where we're going?" you asked, more to fill the space than out of real frustration.

rafe glanced at you, his lips curving in a knowing smile. "what, you don't like surprises?"

you exhaled through your nose, "not when i don't know what i'm walking into."

his chuckle was low, amused. "fair enough." he nudged his shoulder against yours, only lightly, just enough for you to feel him. "but trust me, you'll like this one."

you did your best to ignore the way his presence had weight, the way his warmth reached out even in the crisp air. instead, you focused on the path ahead, the streetlamp glow catching in puddles from the earlier rain.

"you're quiet," rafe said after a moment, and though his tone was casual, there was something beneath it—a curiosity.

you shrugged. "i don't talk just to talk."

rafe hummed as if considering, before tilting his head. "so, when you do talk, it means something?"

you gave him a look. "that's usually how words work."

he grinned. "see? there she is."

you frowned slightly. "what?"

"that confidence. knew it had. to be in there somewhere." you scoffed at him, but there was a flicker of something, not amusement or irritation, something in between.

"you really like to push, don't you?"

rafe didn't hesitate. "only when i know there's something worth pushing for."

his words hung between the two of you, unspoken meanings curling around. them, but he didn't let the weight settle. instead, he nodded toward a small building up ahead, tucked between two larger halls, its window glowing dimly.

"we're here."

you glanced at the entrance, your brows knitting. "the library?"

rafe grinned. "not just the library." with that, he reached for the door, pulling it open for you.

the library at night felt different.

gone was the daytime rush of students flipping through textbooks, the scattered hum of whispered study session, the relentless scratch of pencils against paper. now, it was still—quiet, but not empty. the overhead lights had been dimmed, casting a glow over the bookshelves. a faint melody played from a record player at the front desk, something old and slow, the kind of song that belonged to a different time.

you stepped inside hesitantly, glancing at rafe. "you brought me to library?"

he smirked, stepping past you, his hands still in his pockets. "not just any library," he said, repeating his words from earlier, "come on."

you followed him, weaving through the shelves, the air thick with the scent of aged paper and something faintly sweet; maybe vanilla or cinnamon. it wasn't until you rounded the last corner that you saw it.

a small table, nestled between two massive bookshelves, tucked away from the rest of the world. two chairs. a single candle flickering in the center.

you blinked. "you planned this?"

rafe leaned against the shelf, watching you carefully. "figured you wouldn't wanna go somewhere loud," he admitted, "and i remembered you always got here early for psych club, so... thought you might like it."

for a moment, you didn't say anything. you weren't used to people noticing things like that.

rafe filled the silence, rubbing the back of his neck. "it's stupid, i know. i just—"

"it's not stupid."

his eyes flickered to yours, and for the first time tonight, the usual cocky glint was gone and replaced by something softer and warmer.

a beat of hesitation, then you exhaled, stepping forward. you ran your fingers along the worn edge of the table, tilting your head at him. "are you gonna sit, or just stand there watching me all night?"

his grin returned, slow and easy. "didn't know if i had to convince you first."

you rolled your eyes but took a seat, and after a second, he did too.

"alright, cameron," you murmured, resting your chin in your palm, "let's see what you've got."

rafe chuckled, reaching for the bottle of wine he'd somehow managed to smuggle in. he poured you a glass, then one for himself, lifting it slightly in your direction.

"to you finally noticing me," he said, teasing but sincere.

you studied him for a moment, and then, despite yourself, you lifted your own glass.

"to that." you took a sip, the warmth spreading through you, but the truth was, you had noticed him long before this. you just weren't sure if you were ready to let him know that yet.

rafe breathes out a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he leans back in his chair. "that was the start of it," he says, voice distant, as if he's not really here anymore.

his fingers drum against the table, the flicker of something in his eyes: nostalgia, longing, something heavier he won't say aloud.

"and after that?"

rafe's lips quirk, but not quite a smile. he swirls the last of his drink in his glass before answering.

"after that," he murmurs, "i couldn't stay away."

it happened gradually, in ways so small they could've been dismissed as nothing at all.

the first time you lingered at rafe's place past midnight, curled up on the couch, your psychology textbook open but forgotten in your lap. the lamplight was dim, the tv humming softly in the background, but neither of you were really paying attention to it.

"stay," rafe had murmured, half-asleep himself.

and you did.

and then it happened again, and again, until the nights at his apartment outnumbered the ones in your dorm. it wasn't something you talked about. there was no dramatic moment, no confession, just the slow shift of gravity pulling you into his orbit.

you still walked with your friends to class, at first. but one morning, as you were stepping out of your dorm, rafe was already waiting outside, leaning against the railing with that easy smirk.

"thought i'd save you the trouble of pretending you didn't see me on your way out," he said.

you rolled your eyes, but you didn't turn him away. that was the first time you let him walk with you.

and then it wasn't just once. it became a habit.

it felt safer, more comfortable, like something meant to be. and rafe—he liked the way you gravitated toward him. the way you trusted him with those little parts of your day.

people noticed. of course they did.

it started with whispers—small, harmless things. is she really with him? then, it turned into something sharper.

"didn't peg you for a charity case, cameron." rafe heard the comments more than you did, and the ones you did hear, you brushed off. you had this way of ignoring the ugliness in people, of refusing to let the world harden you.

but rafe wasn't like you in the slightest.

he knew the cruelty of the people you surrounded yourself with. he know how easily they could taint the softness in you, and he—he wanted to protect you from that.

"just ignore them," you told him once, when he tensed at a passing comment. you were so sure, so unwavering, and it made something in rafe ache.

"you're too nice," he muttered, shaking his head.

you just smiled, nudging his shoulder with yours. "maybe someone should teach you how to be nice, too."

and maybe someone was.

because rafe found himself doing things he'd never done before. walking you to class even when it meant going the long way. keeping an extra sweatshirt at his place because he knew you'd get cold. keeping his hands to himself, even on nights when you curled up next to him, falling asleep to the sound of his breathing.

it was slow and deliberate. because for once, rafe didn't want to rush. he just wanted you.

"she was different," rafe says simply.

"how so?"

rafe huffs a quiet laugh, but there's something almost bitter in it. he leans back, tilting his head slightly, as if looking for the right words.

"she wasnt—" he stops himself, exhales, then tries again. "she wasn't like the rest of them." there's a pause; a flicker of something in his eyes.

"i didn't want to mess it up," he finally says. and for awhile, he didn't.

rafe was careful with you, that was the difference.

for all his recklessness, his sharp edges, the impulsivity that had driven most of his life—he was careful with you.

he never reached for you too fast, never asked for more than what you were willing to give. even when you spent your nights curled up on his couch, tucked into the blankets he'd wordlessly draped over you, he kept his distance. not because he didn't want to be closer, but because he knew if he moved too quickly, you'd slip through his fingers like sand.

so he settled for the little things. a hand on you thigh, just barely there. an arm thrown over your shoulder when you let him. a touch that never lingered longer than you allowed. and that was enough.

until it wasn't.

one night, when something in you shifted, it was late—later than usual. you were in your usual spot on rafe's couch, legs tucked beneath you. the only light came from the flickering tv screen, playing something neither of you were watching. you turned to him then, something unreadable in your expression, and said, almost too softly—"i don't want to sleep out here tonight."

rafe's stomach dropped.

not because he expected anything more than what you were offering, but because this meant something.

you saw his hesitation in him before he could even speak, the way his jaw tensed, how he wet his lips like he was afraid of saying the wrong thing.

"you sure?" his voice was quieter than he intended. you nodded, and that was it.

you let him lead you down the dim hallway, past the half-opened bathroom door, past the quiet hum of the city outside his window. you stopped just rafe the threshold of his room, fingers grazing the doorframe.

rafe watched you, waiting for any sign of doubt, any sign that you wanted to change your mind. but then, you stepped inside.

it was the smallest act of trust, but to him, it meant everything.

that night, he didn't even touch you.

you fell asleep on one side of the bed, and he laid on the other. the space between you was measured in careful breaths, in the rise and fall of your chests. and for once, rafe didn't mind the distance; you were here. and that was enough.

"so she trusted you?"

rafe breathes out sharply, eyes darkening with something you can't quite recognize. "yeah," he says, voice rougher now. "she did."

there's a pause.

"and did you deserve it?"

rafe doesn't answer. because truth is—he's not sure.

he wasn't used to softness. not like this. not the kind that crept in slow, like light spilling through the cracks of a door, like warmth settling into his bones before he even realized he was cold. but with you, it wasn't just softness. it was something bigger, more consuming; real.

and it wasn't just him who noticed.

people talked. they always did. the whispers followed you both like shadows, lingering in lecture halls, slipping between phone screens, taking shape in jealous glances from girls who had wanted him for themselves. but rafe had never been theirs, and now, he was yours.

he saw the way they looked at you, the way their envy dripped. from their lips in the form of cruel comments, passive-aggressive stares. it didn't matter that most of them would have never given him the time of day before you. now that he was devoted—they wanted what they couldn't have.

the things they said about you online were even worse:

"she's not even that pretty." "she must be easy." "he'll get bored of her soon."

rafe wanted to rip their words from their throats. he wanted to set the world on fire for you, but you never even flinched.

you walked through campus with your head high, your expression unwavering, never once giving them the satisfaction of seeing you break.

and most surely, he marveled at you for it.

he knew that if the roles were reserved, he would've lost it by now: throw a punch, say something reckless, done something he'd regret. but you? you just let them talk. you let them think their words held weight when, in reality, they barely scratched the surface.

still, rafe wished you'd fight back. he knew you could. he knew that deep down, you were a force to be reckoned with, the kind of person who could level cities if you wanted to.

but you didn't. you just smiled. kept walking. and maybe that's what made him love you even more.

"she was stronger than me," rafe admits. his fingers tighten around the edge of the table, knuckles going white. his expression is unreadable, but there's something in his eyes—raw.

"i don't think i ever told her that," he continues, voice quieter now, "but she was."

he exhales sharply, shaking his head like he's trying to push away the weight of the past. his jaw clenches, and for a moment, he looks haunted.

"she could take a hit. let it roll off of her. i don't know how she did it."

"you wanted her to fight back."

rafe's lips twitch, not quite a smirk nor a frown, just something stuck in between.

"yeah," he says after a pause, "i did."

there's a beat of silence.

"and did she?"

rafe swallows. his gaze flickers downward, and this time, he doesn't answer.

the first time you called his apartment "home," rafe almost didn't catch it. it was an accident, really. slipped past your lips without thought.

you'd been sitting on his kitchen counter, stealing bites of his food like you always had with your legs dangling lazily. and when you stretched your arms over your head and sighed, you murmured, "we should get more of this for home."

rafe had blinked.

the word settled between you both, warm and unspoken, but it was there. home. and he didn't bother to correct you.

after that, it became second nature. you were there more than you weren't. you left things behind regularly: books, sweaters, your favorite chapstick. and before either of you could even process it, your things just lived there.

and then, one night, when rafe went back to his apartment after a long day, exhausted and half out of it—you were already there. waiting for you like you belonged there. it was home for you, too.

that was the moment, he realizes now later on, that he stopped seeing you as a part of his life and started seeing you as his life.

"did she ever tell you she loved you?" the question is gentle, but it still makes rafe flinch. his jaw tightens, fingers drumming against the table. his eyes are still unreadable.

"no," he admits, a quiet chuckle escaping him. "not with words."

there's another pause.

"but she didn't have to."

you never said it out loud; not once. not in the stolen moments between classes, not in the quiet hum of the early morning when you stretched against his sheets, your breath warm against his skin. not even in the moments when you looked at him like he was the only thing in the world worth looking at.

but you didn't have to.

rafe had spent his entire life, at that point, surrounded by love that was loud: consuming, possessive, and reckless. girls who clung to him like he was air, like he was something to be claimed. they spoke their attractions in rushed declarations, in lipstick-stained voicemails, in drunken whispers against his neck, but it had never meant anything to him. not like this.

you loved him in ways that were quiet, subtle. you let him carry your books when you were too stubborn to admit they were heavy. you started keeping extra advil in your bag, because you noticed how often his head hurt when he was stressed. you traced patterns against the back of his hand when you thought he wasn't paying attention. you stopped letting your friends walk you to class—you let him do it instead.

and maybe the biggest shift of all; you started staying. at first, it was just the evenings, your presence filling the corners of his apartment in the softest ways. your softs on the floor, your books on the coffee table, the faint scent of your perfume lingering on his couch. but then one night, you didn't leave. you stayed. and rafe never asked why, cause deep down, he already knew.

"so she never said it? at all?"

rafe shakes his head again. "no," he mutters with a small, wistful smile tugging at his lips, "not with words."

he breathes as he drags a hand through is hair, fingers raking through the strands like he's trying to pull himself back into reality.

"but i felt it," he admits, voice quieter now, "God, i felt it."

"and you?"

rafe's gaze flickers upwards. "what about me?"

"did you ever say it first?"

silence.

then, rafe chuckles—a hollow sound that is laced with something that almost sounds like regret.

"no," he admits, "not at first."

another pause.

"but i should have."

truthfully, rafe had never been gentle with a girl before. not because he did not want to be, but because he had never needed to be. girls threw themselves at him, took what they could get; made it easy. but you? you demanded softness. not with words, not with ultimatums, but simply by being who you were. you didn't want reckless hands or desperate touches. you wanted patience and care. and rafe was willing to learn.

at first it was just the little things: a hand on your thigh, low enough that you didn't feel the need to move away. an arm over your shoulder, never too tight. a brush of his knuckles against yours, just enough to ask, never to take. and you let him.

"so, was that the farthest you went with her?" the question lingers in the air, delicate but razor-sharp nevertheless, slicing through the space.

rafe doesn't answer right away.

instead he swallows hard, his. throat working around a lump that refuses to go down. his fingers twitch against the table, drumming once against against the smooth surface before he exhales—a breath that sounds more like a quiet, defeated laugh. a humorless chuckle. because; only if you knew.

if only you knew what it felt like, to touch you, to have you, to finally be granted access to the arts of you that nobody else had seen because of your persistent modesty.

he doesn't say anything yet, but in his mind, he's already there.

it had been slow.

like the turning of pages, like the unraveling of silk. rafe had never been patient a day in his life, but with you, he was willing to wait. had to wait. because for all the ways you had let him in—your time, your words, your presence in his apartment more often than your own—this was different.

you had always carried yourself with a kind of delicate modesty, a quiet armor that kept the world at bay, and rafe never dared to push. not until you let him.

and one night, you did.

you had been curled against him, your breath steady against his collarbone, your body warm against his sheets. the room was dark except for the soft glow of his beside lamp, shadows painting the walls in lazy strokes. and then, you moved. just a little. just enough.

enough for your fingers to ghost over his skin, enough for the shift of your body to press just a little closer. enough for him to know. that this—this moment, this night, this touch—was permission.

and when rafe finally touched you, really touched you, it felt like stepping into something sacred. like opening a tomb that had never been disturbed, like discovering something untouched and unspoiled; only meant for him. an honor.

that's exactly what it was. that's what you were.

and the moment his hands found you, skin to skin, warmth to warmth—he was gone.

drunk, intoxicated, not on alcohol not on the substance he used to numb the rest of the world, but on you.

because you were the strongest, most potent form of liquor he had ever tasted, and rafe knew—he could never get enough.

rafe felt it like a pulse beneath his skin, a silent beckoning, and still, he had waited. but the moment you had turned to him, when your eyes found his in the quiet hush of the night, he knew. he reached for you then, slow and measured, like a man afraid of disturbing something sacred. his fingers traced along the bare skin of your arm, his touch barely more than a whisper, as if testing the fragility of glass.

and you—you let him.

you did not flinch, didn't pull away, didn't shrink beneath the weight of his hands. instead, you leaned into it, into him, into the warmth of his pal against the curve of your waist. it was a slow unraveling.

it was like silk slipping through fingers, like the quiet collapse of a tide meeting the shore. his hands mapped the shape of you with careful, aching reverence: the dip of your spine, the delicate slope of your shoulder, the space just beneath your ribs where your breath hitched beneath his touch. and most certainly, he could feel it; the way your body trembled, not in fear, not in reluctance, but in something else entirely.

something deeper and unspoken.

rafe exhaled, his breath warm as it fanned across your temple, his lips barely grazing your skin as his finger trailed lower—only to pause. waiting. asking. and when your fingers curled around his wrist, when your grip tightened just slightly, pulling him closer instead of pushing him away—that was all he needed.

he moved like a tide drawn by the pull of the moon, slow and inevitable, touching you in places that had never been touched. not just your body, but your trust, your guarded heart, the parts of you no one dared to claim. rafe knew it then—it wasn't just touch. this was permission.

the moment stretched, fragile as spun glass, suspended between what had been and what was about to unfold. rafe was drowning in it.

the scent of you, clean and warm, wrapped around him like a fever and your breath—soft, uneven, trembling against his skin—was the only thing anchoring him to reality. yet, even reality felt distant.

it felt like a dream, like something surreal and untouched by the weight of the world. he had wanted you for so long; he longed, ached and burned for you. but not like this. not in the way others had. this wasn't about conquest, it was about immersion. about losing himself in you, in the sound of his name slipping from your lips like prayer, in the way your breath hitched when his fingers finally moved where you needed them most.

"rafe—"

it wasn't just a whisper, it was his undoing. your body reacted before your mind could process it, arching into his touch, into the deliberate drag of his fingers, slow and worshipful. his name wasn't just a plea, it was a confession, an invitation, a surrender.

and rafe had answered it.

he traced reverence across your skin with his mouth, with his hands, with the way he listened. every sigh, every broken sound you gave him, he committed to memory like scripture. the way your fingers tangled into his hair; tentative, then certain, then desperate.

the little gasps that spilled from your lips, the quietest whimpers you tried to swallow down—he chased them.

"let me hear you," he murmured against your jaw, voice thick with something unrecognizable even to himself. not lust or desire, but something that was raw.

your hands fisted in the sheets, in him, in anything that would keep you grounded as he unraveled you, as he worshiped you. he wanted to stay there forever.

lost in your warmth. in your sweet, breathy moans that filled the quiet of his bedroom. in the way your body responded to him so effortlessly, like you were made for this, for him. you trembled beneath his touch, the tension coiling inside you unbearable, and he felt it—felt everything.

he pressed his forehead against yours, breathing in every sound, every whisper of his name like it was oxygen.

he pressed his mouth against your collarbone, his lips brushing against your pulse, fast and unsteady, mirroring his own. he wanted to stay there, breathing you in, tasting the heat of your skin, memorizing the way your heartbeat quickened under his touch.

the way your fingers tangled in his hair tentatively at first, like you weren't sure if you were allowed to hold onto him. but then, his fingers curled every so slightly, and you gasped, your grip tightening, your body instinctively answering his silent plea to let him in. you were soft—so soft.

soft in the way your breath broke against his cheek, soft in the way your thighs trembled under his touch, soft in the way your voice whispered his name like a secret meant only for him.

"are you okay?" his voice was low, quiet, rough with restraint. it mattered to him.

you nodded, but it wasn't enough.

"tell me."

your lips parted, but words seemed impossible. so instead, you reached for him, your touched featherlight, uncertain, but when your fingers brushed against his jaw, something inside of him shattered.

rafe had been touched before, but never like this. like he was something to be held, cherished, to be discovered slowly. never like he was something delicate. his breath stuttered, and for a moment, he just looked at you. he was drunk on you, drowning in you, lost in the way you were finally letting him in.

"i need you," you whispered, and God, you didn't even realize what those words did to him. because he needed you, too. more than you would ever know. more than the air in his lung, than the pulse thrumming beneath his skin, more than anything he had ever reached for in his entire life.

he swallowed hard, his throat bobbing, his hands stilling against you for the briefest moment like he was memorizing this, like he needed to etch it into his bones before it could slip away.

"say it again," he murmured, his voice low and rough.

your lips parted, your breath shaky, the space between you humming with danger and intoxication.

"rafe—"

you didn't even get the chance to say it before he was kissing you again, swallowing your breath, your words, your everything. he kissed you like he was answering something unspoken between you, like he had been waiting for this moment for far too long. his fingers traced slow, deliberate lines against your skin, exploring every delicate curve, inch of warmth, like he was mapping you out with his hands, learning you by touch alone. and you surely let him.

your breath hitched when his fingers splayed over your ribs, his thumb barely grazing the soft skin beneath your bra, his touch was so light, so careful it was nearly unbearable. he was testing you. waiting. holding himself back in a way that felt excruciating, agonizing, perfect.

"tell me if you want me to stop." his voice was a whisper, but it wrapped around you, threaded through you, settled deep inside your chest. you didn't want him to stop, you never wanted him to stop. instead, you reached for him, your fingers curling around his wrist as you guided him, giving him the permission without a single word. that was all it took.

"God, you're beautiful." his voice was breathless, raw, like the words had been torn straight from his chest. you whimpered softly at the praise, your fingers fisting in the fabric of his shirt, and nearly lost himself right then and there. you had no idea what you were doing to him.

the way you arched into him, the way your lips parted against his neck, the way your breaths grew heavier with each passing second. it was unraveling him, piece by piece, turning him into something wrecked and desperate and wholly, completely yours. he wanted to make this last.

the sound of you, soft gasps and barely there whimpers, the quiet way you murmured his name was intoxicating, threading through his veins like the most potent of poisons. he was lost in you. he was drowning in you, and he didn't want to come up for air.

the moment unraveled like silk slipping through calloused fingers, a sacred thread being pulled loose. rafe had never been so lost in anything before in his life—not in the high of a late night thrill, not in the haze of cigarette smoke curling around his lips. but you—you were something else entirely. you were ruin wrapped in euphoria, a dream so tangible it felt like he could reach out and grasp it, only for it to melt between his fingers.

every breath you took was a siren's call, pulling him deeper into the undertow of you. his hands traced the map of your body with that same reverence, memorizing every single curve and valley as if you were something holy, something he wasn't sure he was meant to touch but couldn't resist worshipping.

and your eyes, half-lidded, dark with something he'd never seen before, were the final undoing. they held him captive, ensnaring him in a way that made escape seem foolish and unwanted. he swore you looked unreal, something divine carved from the softest parts of the universe, ethereal and just out of reach even as you lay beneath him.

rafe had never know a moment like this, where time ceased to exist and reality bent at the edges and blurred into something intoxicating. the quiet between heartbeats, as his name tumbled from your lips like a prayer, he realized he'd never truly touched anything before you.

"so if you guys had such a good thing going, where did it go wrong?"

rafe blinks but it's as if he's looking through the present, past it, past everything. his fingers drum against the table, restless. his jaw tightens. he looks detached, but the truth is, he's drowning.

"the way we ended was my fault," he says, his voice rough and weighted. "and every ending that happened in her life after that might just be mine, too." his breath comes slow and deliberate, like he's trying to steady himself, but it doesn't work. he drags his teeth over his bottom lip, his gaze sinking into the floor.

"i left her by herself one night."

it was a bar, dimly lit and thick with the scent of cheap liquor and cigarette smoke. the music pulsed like a heartbeat, and the night was already slipping into something hazy. rafe remembers the amber glow that softened the harsh edges of the world, the way the laughter of his friends melted into the buzz of the room. he remembers standing you, shoulder to shoulder, his hand resting on the small of your back like it belonged there.

you looked up at him then, your lips parted slightly, as if on the verge of saying something. but the moment passed before he could catch it. and then—he let himself get distracted. it wasn't intentional. just a drink, just a conversation, just a turn of his head. a moment. a single, fleeting moment.

but when he looked back, you were gone.

the empty space where you stood before sent a spike of something sharp through rafe's ribs. he scanned the room, his pulse kicking up, but you weren't there.

"they told me she called my name." his voice is quieter now, as if he's speaking more to himself than anyone else. "i remember that much. i remember turning back for a second, seeing her standing there in that dim bar light."

his throat bobs. "she had that look on her face—like she was about to say something, but i never got to hear what."

#rafe cameron #drew starkey #obx #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe angst #rafe cameron imagine #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe obx #rafe x you #rafe x y/n #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron x you

413 notes · View notes

sunnyknight-original · 5 months ago

Text

Dear My Dear -

an @forgettable-au fan-slideshow

At the end of their journey, Sans has remembered everything. And theres only one question on his mind now…

*now what?

Its lore time. omg theres so much-

The way ill organize this…lIll start with the GENERAL thing, before getting more spesific, and explain each slide in way too much detail.

THE BIGGER PICTURE

This is the hypothetical end to their journey. Sans and Papyrus remember what happened, and this is how Sans is handling it. A letter to Wingdings.

I was hesitant to make this at first for obvious reasons- we dont know how its gonna end!!! But I took this more as a “what if ?” scenario. IF they ever remember anything, how would Sans specifically, react? I mean thats gotta be tough.

Because of that though, lot of what happened to lead up to this is kept vague.

ill explain in way more detail how Sans got to the point of writing this letter, and how he feels in the end when I explain each slide individually. But the reason why, the MAIN ISSUE is…

Over the years, hes put so much effort into enjoying what he has. And- nothings even changed!!! So why does he feel so much has? Now that he remembers what he lost…WHO he lost. He cant help but have this voice in the back of his head that says “would it have been better if that never happened? if Papyrus never existed?” and of course he absolutely hates to think that! but the voice gets louder. Writing this letter, is an act of closure. Of laying to rest someone he never got to. Someone he never even really got to do much with.

(Excuse the shitty quality of the images- I promise they’re better. WATCH THE VIDEO)

my dear wingdings,)

Sans says “wingdings” here instead of “brother”. that’s important. Also its on a white void, showing a sorta “heavenly imagery” with the mention of Wingdings. Also Gaster is in a BLACK void, but hes talking about WD here, so, contradictions.

you never came back, and now…after remembering everything everything clearly i understand why.)

Sans and Papyrus are sitting by a fire at night. They are both sorta lost in their own worlds at the moment, but are more or less leaning on one another for comfort and support. They both need each other right now despite each other being the whole reason why they feel the way they do right now-

Papyrus is notably no longer wearing the white coat that somewhat resembles a lab coat. Symbolism! Growth!

(art note: I drew Sans as a lefty in this- cherish it. It was so hard to draw these hands at these angles- CHERISH IT.)

i don’t imagine you’ll receive this letter, but i, nonetheless, must send it. wingdings….oh ‘dings…)

the first part is somewhat of a self aware/sarcastic joke. Sans is writing this letter for himself- he doesn’t imagine Wingdings, the dead man, will ever see it. Nor would Gaster care to read it. Thats another important thing, this is NOT a letter for Gaster. This is a letter for Wingdings. which is for Sans

The star in the sky symbolizes a few different things- the main one being Wingdings ofc. But also Papyrus’ expectations of himself- which mainly come from who he was. He’s looking at it, reflecting, thinking of what Wingdings did, and what Papyrus has done. Who he is NOW, and if he ever was Wingdings.

Or if Wingdings just became him.

A square is a rectangle, but a rectangle isn’t a square type thing.

i was just starting to dream the silliest- the softest of dreams. i miss you. and i will always miss you.)

2 contradictions, what Sans used to think, vs what he knows now. The memories were fuzzy- he couldn’t remember The Royal Scientist, he just feels like he remembers some nice times. Before now knowing everything clearly. And he still misses it- slightly.

The reflections are blacked out at first, before showing their future selves. Before, there was no connection to the present because it wasnt true. It felt like/was 2 completely different things

but i cannot live like that.)

Sans can still tell, even without the rose tinted glasses view he used to have, he cant live missing the past and not living in the present. He always knew that, but repeating it here makes him feel better.

Pictured is Sans and Papyrus hiking up the mountain next to the city as the sun sets. Papyrus is in full view of the light, but is facing away in order to help Sans see it too. Symbolism!

and it seems you cannot live any other way.)

another reference to the fact that Wingdings cant live… at all now. But also an awareness that part of him lives on in Gaster. The thing that killed him.

I doubt hes going to change in any way by the end of the comics, he’s far to obsessive about angels and the player for childish stuff like “growth” and “changing for the better as a human being”

when i was with you, the world made sense. but now that we are apart, i see clearly that your world is not a world from which one can escape.)

When they were together, they knew what they wanted to be. They wanted to be scientists. But after being apart so long and experiencing so much uncertainty, Sans finds that mindset is unhealthy. Again, a lot of this is stuff he already knew, but is repeating to himself because after remembering everything, he feels as if hes back at square one.

As kids they would test echo flowers, for science purposes! We don’t know yet if WDs voice comes through on them, but I imagine not… maybe. But for this we’re gonna say no. Their speech bubbles are trying so hard to be circles- the scribbles also somewhat resemble stars because I thought that’d be fun.

But the last slide has it shown that he dug them out, also for science purposes!

He took the echo flowers from their roots, much later on in his lab career. That in itself isnt that bad, but it symbolizes that he doesn’t care much for taking things slow. He wants to test with echo flowers? **TAKES EVERY SINGLE ONE WITHIN A 100 MILE RADIUS**

Also the empty holes reflects sort of what happened after he died. All of the underground was left with holes to fill. Sans, a childhood/brother. Alphys, the royal scientist. Those are the main ones but he was THE ROYAL SCIENTIST im sure there were more (smaller) holes that may or may not have been filled.

Ok and the last thing the flowers being taken out represent- he took the ones specifically from when they were kids, and abandoned what was left for the grass to grow tall and the entire area to be, in general, a lot flatter. In his quest to basically never grow up and continue being the thing he KNEW he wanted to be since kindergarten- he’s taken everything and left the rest in the dust. He’s The Royal Scientist now, he “doesn’t need anything else.”

i’m so sorry. for everything. for everything long ago, and for starting up that machine again.

Sans knows he could have been better. He could have done things differently, and that thought messes with him, even before he remembered.

The 2nd image is Sans at Grillbys after another failed attempt to get Wingdings outside. Despite the fact that he could have done things differently, theres no real reason to be “sorry” But still, he cant help but feel like he should be. He could have done things differently- could have tried harder, and gotten Wingdings out more often- or at all.

Im not sure where the machine in Sans’ lab comes into play in this AU, but it worked for the purposes of this audio.

theres a good man within you, wingdings. but he is wrestling with a giant. and the giant WINS time and again.)

Before everything, there was still a good man inside Wingdings that Sans saw. But now that he’s Gaster he just cant see him ever changing... and yknow what hes probably right. Like Papyrus says! Anyone can be a good person if they just try!…Gaster just isnt trying

“Wins” being emphasized here, I enjoy, since its sorta a video gamey term. The giant hes wrestling is that/the player, after all. Also probably his ego

I also had fun with kid Wingdings and what he’s drawing. Ofc its all him and Sans plus silly little stars, but him being finished drawing Sans, but not yet finished drawing himself, symbolizes the fact that at that age he still didn’t really know what he wanted to be, I feel like Wingdings kinda remembers the past wrong. Sure he definitely had science on the mind, but younger kids are often filled with questions, he questions if thats truly where he’d be the happiest.

Thats the good man within him

you’ve broken my soul again, and i fear i have broken yours. and for that i will never forgive myself, but i need to let you go now.)

the star represents, again, Wingdings. And the moon represents Sans, which shines only under the Suns (Papyrus’) light.

The sun is beginning to rise, and Sans and Papyrus are beginning to leave. Sans puts out the fire, closing this chapter of his life.

Because of every reason he needed to relearn/re-reflect on listed here, hes ready to let Wingdings go now. Sans is the one to put out the fire here, and not Papyrus, cause this is from the perspective of how SANS handles putting this issue to rest. Papyrus can have his own fire to put out later

Another thing about putting out the fire, thats just kinda common knowledge to do especially at a public camping spot. Yknow what else is common knowledge to do so you dont disrupt the community?? NOT REPLANTING FLOWERS-

Its not that deep…but still-

i send you the radio you made many years ago when we were kids. not because i dont want it, but… because i care for it far too much and it reminds me too much of you.)

CALL BACK!!!!!!

Sans leaves this last memento to Wingdings, the last thing they have that has nothing to do with Papyrus. Because at this point theres no reason to keep it, in Sans’ mind at least. There’s also no reason to destroy it- Like he says, hes not leaving it out of malice, theres just no good that will come from keeping it and holding onto the past.

As the sun rises, here we see the brothers leaving. in contrast to before, Sans is helping Papyrus down. Helping him down from the spotlight, the expectations he’s set upon himself. Another kick that Papyrus still has much more to reflect on and think about, he’s still looking back at that light, at a shooting star, at everything he thought he wanted to be.

i hope one day you will find some kind people who with appreciate you. for it kept me thinking of you all these years.)

GASTER FOLLOWERS!!!

Despite everything, Sans still wants whats left of Wingdings, Gaster, to be happy and find something, anyone, that will give him true happiness. It’s left ambiguous however if they truly do, do that for him. If it’s at all healthy.

cause frankly i have no idea how theyll be included. but just like everything- i cant wait to find out

EDIT: something important (and really wordy-) I just remembered and forgot to mention: the wording change “i hope you will find some kind people who will appreciate you”. I chose this because I think it’s the thing Wingdings and Papyrus just want the most. To be appreciated- to be loved for who they are. Sans is/has been so happy that Papyrus has found those people in Undyne, Toriel, Asgore, and…hopefullllyyy Alphys? And now that Sans remembers Wingdings, and remembers how badly he wanted that, and how he never did. Sans cant help but feel horrible for him, and in turn, Gaster. Sans forgives Wingdings, and loves Papyrus…and….he just wants the best for Gaster. He hopes he can find true happiness in that twisted mind of his…

and i hope by returning it to you, i can finally be free. goodbye.

- your brother

As the sun rises, the star gets smaller and smaller and eventually the sun replaces it. Remember when I said Papyrus represents the sun? SYMBOLISM!!!

Also about that, the star shines brighter than anything, but the Sun is among a lot of clouds, depicting how isolated Wingdings is/was despite shining the brightest, vs Papyrus who also does indeed shine! but isn’t isolated whatsoever.

Now, remember when I said Sans saying “my dear wingdings” instead of “my dear brother” was important? well, he acknowledges that he is still Wingdings’ brother, despite everything. So he signs off as “your brother” but… He’ll always try to remember Wingdings fondly…but…he’s unsure if he considers Wingdings his brother anymore- just because of how much they’ve changed. Thats why the whole thing is called Dear My Dear.

the radio + letter remains there in the end. I briefly played with the idea of having them disappear as the sun came out, implying that Gaster took the radio and reas the letter, but that was before I realized it was much better for this to be for Wingdings specifically, not Gaster/Wingdings/whatever.

FINALE!!! PLUS SOME BEHIND THE SCENES INFO!!!

weeps pitifully this was probably the most fun i’ve had with a project/the most happy i’ve come out of one. Learned lots about my process’ and what works! so thats awesome It took a while to make, so theres a lot of stuff I changed or ideas I scrapped that I find interesting, so im gonna show some of that on my side/shitpost account, @o-sunny-day

also isnt this so awesome???? I got a computer so I got to post more images than just 10, THIS IS SO AWESOME!!!

Have a Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year! Heres to being a bigger, better, and different person this year! except not really because despite everything its still you.

un-unless you…got shattered across time and space…. then you’re-

well I mean that-….. hm…

does that…? hmm, well….

#forgettable au #dont forget #despite everything #despite what you remember now #youre still you

667 notes · View notes

oneoftheextras · 5 months ago

Text

lockjaw | j.t two

masterlist | help me fun my top-surgery?

paring: hybrid puppy!jayce talis x f!reader

request: after a recent breakup you find yourself adopting a hybrid to keep you company, but he's more feral than you can handle

series warnings: 18+, hybrid jayce (ears and tail), slight a/b/o traits (could argue alpha jayce), eventual smut, protective jayce, size difference

words: 3.8k

chapter warnings: predator/prey vibes, the slow burn begins, mentions of a bad relationship

chapter notes: chess descriptions but easy to follow, salo is reader's ex

want a handwritten letter from a character? / join the discord

The game started quickly, although you hadn’t played chess in years so you weren’t putting much thought into your moves.

The fabric bottom of the metal pawn made a satisfying but muted click as you put it down on the metal square.

Jayce cocked his head to the side by no more than an inch, staring at the pawn with furrowed eyebrows. After a few seconds, his eyes moved to you.

Even though he didn’t say anything, his facial expression spoke for him. ‘That was a stupid move’.

He continued his eye contact with you as he picked up his bishop and slid it diagonally across the board until it collided with your pawn with a melodic ‘tink’ sound.

As he lifted up your pawn and put it on his side of the table you realised just how smart he was, and that you’d clearly insulted him.

For a second you felt ashamed of the assumption you’d made. For thinking this would be an easy win.

“Okay, Jayce. Game on,” you said quietly to him and readjusted yourself in the chair; your voice carried a playful and challenging tone which made his ears twitch.

He liked how you sounded when you were having fun and not overthinking your words.

He looked up at you through the strands of hair that fell in front of his face, the side of his mouth curled every so slightly upwards into a cocky smirk.

It was so subtle that you almost missed it, but it was as if to say ‘Challenge accepted’.

After a mere eight minutes you knew you’d lost the game.

All you had left was your king, a castle and a handful of pawns, whilst Jayce’s side of the board was heavily populated.

Staring at the pieces wasn’t going to win you the game, no matter how hard you studied them. A hundred different moves had gone through your thoughts but not one of them would help.

Jayce exhaled through his nose and leaned backwards in his chair to watch you, he was letting you take your time but he was also very aware of your impending loss.

You glanced up at him with a somewhat pleading look, silently asking him to show you mercy and not rub it in too much.

If he was thinking of finishing this quickly then his face showed no signs of it.

When you eventually made your move he sat forward, his forearms leaning on his thighs to interlock his fingers together in thought.

Even you knew he didn’t need to think about it for as long as he was, any move would mean you were one step closer to defeat.

There was a clear space for him to seize your castle and leave you with only two pawns to protect your king, but he didn’t take it.

Instead, he moved his own pawn forward. A seemingly useless move that achieved nothing, but the small smile on his lips indicated he was up to something.

Quirking your head to the side to ogled his piece with confusion, you tried to understand why he'd make such a move.

His eyes gave nothing away. He simply leaned back in his chair again and rested his mouth against his knuckles as he watched your reaction.

You moved your castle into a more offensive position, trying to create a protective wall around your other pieces, but Jayce moved his pawn closer.

His queen was still in play, as well as other more threatening pieces, so you were perplexed as to why he was only moving his pawn. It was only when he slid it one space forward so it was diagonally next to your castle, that it clicked.

The pawn was in position to take your castle, but your castle couldn't attack the pawn - it's only option was to retreat.

You glanced up at him from the chess board and he did the same, your eyes meeting for a second before you relented and moved your castle horizontally a few spaces to save it the embarrassment of being taken by a pawn.

A low chuckle came from Jayce's throat; it took you back for a second - you were pretty sure that was the first noise you'd heard him make.

He reached over the board and moved his bishop into position to block your two pawns and your king into the corner.

With a loud sigh, you moved your pawn back a space to buy you some time to think of what to do, but he immediately moved the bishop closer.

One diagonal square at a time he enclosed your pieces into the corner. He could've done it all in one move or even ended the game several moves ago, but he wasn't.

"I surrender," you threw your hands up in defeat, but when you saw the determination mixed with something similar to playfulness in his golden irises, you started to understand why he was drawing this out.

He smiled for a moment and you spotted his sharp canines peeking out from under his scarred lip; the sound of your forfeit was pleasant to his ears, evident from the bristled fur around the base - but he wasn't interested.

He wanted to corner you. Trap you with nowhere to go. Then he would take his win.

Eventually, he took your castle and one of your pawns, leaving you with nothing but a singular pawn to defend yourself.

There was nothing you could do but back yourself into the corner until there were no more spaces left.

The glint in his eye only shone brighter once you moved for the last time, his pieces surrounding yours; that's when you finally understood fully.

He'd played with you, hunted the pieces down until all that was left was him to take them - it was like a bright neon sign had switched itself on in your brain to give you a deadly reminder:

'Unfortunately, some of his feral habits returned but he mostly keeps to himself now'

The vet's voice reverberated in the back of your mind as you pushed your last pawn forward and into the firing line of his, your heartbeat quickened as if it was yourself stepping into the jaws of the starving beast.

Jayce's tongue darted out to wet his lower lip as he collided his bishop into your pawn, he picked up your piece and placed it with the others he'd captured.

He gazed up at you with triumph, his pupils slightly enlarged compared to before, but apart from the small signs you'd picked up on he seemed completely calm.

"You won," you said slightly-breathlessly, and he held your gaze.

For a moment, you were unsure if he was done with you. His stare was intense and hungry. He no longer looked like a chocolate Labrador, moreso a wild wolf.

Then he broke the eye contact and started to reset the board.

You felt like your breath had been returned to you, as if he'd released you from whatever cage he'd put you in.

Maybe it was just you being too cautious, and you'd misread him. Maybe you were unfairly making assumptions based on what you knew about his past.

"Some tea before you go?" the man from before was stood next to your table, holding a tray with two cups and a teapot on it.

"Before I go?" you queried and glanced towards the clock on the wall - you only had around 17 minutes left of your visit. Somehow the conclusion of that game took nearly 30 minutes.

The man slid the tray onto the table next to the chess board and Jayce side-eyed him as he leaned down but continued to reset the board.

"Pick whichever flavour you like," he gestured to the small box with multiple different colours of teabag packets, and took hold of the teapot and poured hot water into the cup he'd put in front of Jayce.

As he went to pour the water into your cup too, Jayce tapped his hand firmly and grabbed hold of the handle, forcing the vet to let go and give it to him.

He then slowly and gently poured the water into your cup for you before placing the pot softly back down on the tray. His actions and demeanour were a stark contrast to how he was a few moments ago.

"Oh, I don't think you'll have time for another game, sorry buddy!" the vet cooed at him as he returned to putting the chess pieces back into place.

Jayce gave him a scolding glance, but ignored what he was saying. If you were being honest, you didn't like the tone he was using with him. It was similar to baby-voice with an infant; it was condescending.

"Thank you," you smiled at the vet as an indication that he could leave as you picked your tea flavour and submerged the bag in the hot water.

When he eventually left there was silence around you and Jayce again, and you wondered if he would talk - or if he even could.

You'd heard him laugh earlier so you knew he had human vocal chords, maybe? You'd have to research it when you got home.

When he was done resetting the chess board, he picked his own tea flavour and put it into his own cup, repeatedly dunking it with his teaspoon.

"So..." you awkwardly attempted to start the conversation, and his eyes darted up to yours at the sound of your voice.

"Do you like it here?" was the first question you could think to ask, but his quirked eyebrow and facial expression was all the answer you needed.

Of course he didn't. It was the equivalent of the pound, or an orphanage, just fancier and cleaner.

"Sorry," you rubbed the bridge of your nose with the hand that wasn't holding the teacup, "I've never been very good at small talk," you laughed nervously.

He observed you as you sipped your drink, he noted how delicately you blew on the hot liquid so you wouldn't burn yourself, and how you struggled to keep eye contact with him.

You were certainly different to the other people who walked through that door, especially the people who worked here.

"I don't really know what to ask you, I'm not usually the one who carries a conversation," you confessed as you put your teacup back down on the tray and glanced around the room.

The other hybrids were out as well, but other than a few curious peeks in your direction, they'd stayed away.

It wasn't surprising that they kept their distance. From the brief moment that you'd stood opposite him, you got a gage for how big he was.

Not just tall, but muscular as well - if you were a hybrid you'd probably keep out of arms length as well.

"Why do you stay here?" you asked suddenly and before thinking. He stared at you with no indication of a response like earlier. "I mean-" you tried to reword your question, "-I guess you don't really have a choice-", his eye flitted to the ground for a millisecond then back up to you, confirming your words were true.

"-But you can clearly look after yourself fine, and physically you wouldn't have a problem fighting anyone off if you needed to," you gestured to his bicep and his attention went down to his own arm.

The shirt he was wearing was very flattering for his physique, but you hadn't meant to point it out so blatantly.

"What I'm trying to say is, if you wanted to leave you probably could, so why do you stay?" you concluded, unsure if anything you just said made sense.

He didn't move for a moment and you were afraid that you'd insulted him, but then he suddenly pushed himself up and startled you in the process.

He walked over to one of the cabinets on the other side of the room and you watched how confident his strides were, his fluffy brown tail swishing behind him with every step. Other eyes were on him too, clearly it wasn't often he moved.

He reached up to one of the high shelves and picked something up, cradling it in his hands until he could hand it to you.

You took it as gently as you could, it was a small metal boat - despite it's size it was very detailed.

There was a tiny crank on the side, which he reached down and delicately started to wind it up, which made the circular engine move; you were sure if you put this into water it would be a functioning machine.

He took it from your hands to turn it over for you. That's when you saw the engraving on the side, 'V & J'.

"You made this?" you grinned with surprise and looked up at him. You hadn't realised, but he had put one hand on the back of your chair and was leaning over you.

He bent down, even closer than he was before and tapped the 'V' on the boat specifically, then it clicked what he was trying to say.

"Viktor?" you whispered. His expression softened and he nodded, "He was your friend wasn't he?" you asked and he smiled sadly - he clearly missed him.

Then it all made sense. Why he was showing you this, after your specific line of questioning.

Never before had you looked at someone and so clearly seen yourself staring back. "You don't want to be alone," you said aloud, and this time you were unsure who you were saying it to; yourself or him.

He picked the boat up gently and let it sit in the palm of his hand to observe it again. He started poking and prodding different parts and you could almost mentally hear him criticising his own work.

"I get it, in my own way," you reassured him, and a part of you wanted to take his hand - enclose as much of him in your grasp as you could, to let him know that it was okay to feel what he was feeling - but neither of you were ready for that.

He glanced from the boat to how you were admiring his work and it made his chest warm up. The way you took in every detail and really appreciated it was something he hadn't felt in a long time.

"The whole reason I'm here-", "Okay guys, that's one hour!" the vet clapped his hands from his seat across the room, and Jayce's ears flattened at the loud sound, causing the confession to die on your tongue before it could begin.

The bubble of comfort around the two of you had been abruptly popped before it had even finished forming.

You stood slowly, glancing between Jayce - who was staring daggers - and the vet.

"Right, yeah," you acknowledged his announcement and stood from your chair, "It was nice to meet you properly, Jayce," you said softly as you stepped away from him reluctantly.

He smiled for a second before his expression returned to the neutral scowl he had when you first saw him, and he sat back down in his chair as if you'd never arrived.

There was a pang in your chest when you looked over your shoulder one last time as the sanctuary doors swung shut, blocking your view of him.

An arbitrary afternoon of work bled into an evening of solitude. You sat on your couch and mindlessly flicked through TV channels, finding nothing of worth for you to watch.

It was hard to not think about him, especially when you were alone. What was he doing right now? What were they allowed to do in the evenings?

It was so blatantly obvious to you that you weren't ready for this type of commitment yet; you had no idea how to take care of a hybrid let alone one like Jayce.

Jayce.

His face flashed in your mind. His sad golden irises, his momentary smiles, and the gentle way he handled something so dear to him.

That pain in your chest hit you again, "You deserve someone better," you muttered to yourself and picked up your laptop.

The email to the vet was written within the hour; a simple explanation that, whilst Jayce was lovely and he hadn't done anything wrong, you felt you weren't the right fit for him.

But pressing send was proving impossible.

The tip of your finger had been against the mousepad for longer than it had taken for you to write the email; reading and re-reading your own email back to yourself over and over again.

Would they show him it? Would they let him know that you wouldn't be seeing him again? Or would he eventually realise you weren't coming back?

A singular tear that you didn't know was forming dropped from your waterline and hit the back of your hand; at the same moment your phone rang.

It was your friend, the one who had originally recommended you get a pet. The one that started all this.

"Hey?" you answered the phone with a shaky voice and a sniffle, "Hey, what's up?" your friend's voice travelled through the speaker but you could tell she'd picked up on the fact you were crying.

"Not a lot, you?" your answer was a cookie cutter response and she knew it, "What's wrong?" she ignored your question and instead asked her own.

A puff of air, which you think was supposed to be a laugh, came out of you, "Nothing, I'm fine!" you protested, but the silence on the other end was evidence enough that she didn't believe you.

"Tell me," she eventually said, and you caved.

"You know how you suggested I get a companion after Sal-", "We don't say his name in this household," she interrupted you, "But yes, I do, continue,".

A sad sigh left your lips, "Well, I think I found one, but he's-" she injected again, "Oooh! Tell me everything! Cat or a dog? I'm going to guess a little kitty," she was more excited than you were originally.

It sat with you for a moment; you wanted to tell her everything but the subject of hybrids had never come up before with her and you weren't exactly sure if it would go down well.

"He's a dog," you scrunched your face up at your own words, you hated referring to him in such a basic way.

A surprised sound came from your phone, "A small one though, right? Like a dachshund or something?", this time you were the one that was silent.

"A Labrador," you muttered, "Quite a big one too," you clarified.

She said your name in a scolding manner, "Do you have enough space? Do you know how much energy they have? It'll wreck your apartment!".

"He's actually very calm and polite," your words came out more defensive than you meant them to, "Polite?" she laughed at your choice of words.

"I'm more worried about if I can take care of him properly," you admitted, "Dog's are easy; walk them once a day, feed them and let them out when they need to shit!" by the tone of her voice, she was finding this all very amusing.

You opened your mouth to explain how different your situation was, but the sentence died in your throat, knowing it would cause more questions than you'd be able to answer.

"He's a rescue though, that's what I'm worried about," you thought hard about your wording, "He was abandoned really young so he's lived his whole life fending for himself until recently,".

"How recently?" she asked her voice becoming more serious. "I think they said 3 months- but he's adjusted really well!" you started to counter any arguments she was thinking of putting forward.

You retold the story of how he'd befriended a feline and it had grounded him, obviously rewording some parts.

"That's a good sign that he was chill with a cat, not a lot of dogs are like that," she paused for breath, "What's his name?" she asked.

Your heart skipped a beat and you smiled to yourself, "Jayce," you said with a giddiness you didn't know you had.

"Is he cute?" her second question came, and immediately your brain filled with images of him.

His strong jaw, his prominent cheekbones, his muscular frame, and his ears that looked so soft to touch.

"Y-Yeah, he is," your smile widened, "Then what is it that you're actually worried about? 'Cause you seem to like him a lot," she cut straight to the point.

Your grin started to fall, "I guess-" you started, inhaling deeply to prepare yourself for what you were going to say, "I guess I think he's better with someone else, who's adopted a rescue before, and emotionally together,".

This was something you'd only thought about, but for the first time you were speaking it aloud, "After Sa-" you started, but stopped yourself, remembering her rule about his name, "-After everything with him, I haven't been my best self, you know?" you vented.

She hummed as a sign that she was listening to you. "He needs someone who will take care of him properly, not make him worse," you concluded, slightly breathless from the confession.

"My mom adopted a rescue a few years back," she started what seemed like a tangent, but you let her continue, "My dad was so against the idea, but once my mom had met her there was no changing her mind, they'd bonded almost instantly."

You knew the dog she was talking about, you'd met her once and you'd had no idea she was a rescue until now.

"The little shit spent months warming up to her, but you could see it in her big soppy eyes that she adored my mom, but was scared to trust again," as she spoke, sad golden eyes flashed in your mind.

There was a short pause as you heard your friend sipping whatever drink she had before she continued

"What I'm saying is; yeah, rescues are hard work, but once you earn their trust, there is nothing stronger," she sounded uncharacteristically philosophical.

You nodded even though she couldn't see you. "I get what you're saying," you verbally confirmed so she knew you were still listening.

"Anyway, you might find that he brightens your miserable-ass up and makes you fun again," she insulted you but you knew it was meant with love and she was only semi-serious.

"Yeah, you're right," you said absent-mindedly. She quickly changed the subject and started to talk about how her day had been and how her girlfriend's birthday was coming up soon and she didn't know what to get her.

As she spoke, you listened but dragged your cursor over to the 'Delete' button of your email and confidently clicked your mousepad without a second thought. Your moment of doubt, and email, gone.

taglists:

all:

@mylife-demonstrates-murphys-law @hereticpriest @enagmaticether @anxiousgoddest @kodzu-ken @moonnei @diesinspanishbcimhispanic @fvckmeupyoonz @homosexualjohnwayne @notplutos @moth-baybee @answer-the-sirens @ochakoakabane

lockjaw:

@jijihana @ k00yaa @ die-prophetin @slugstarzz @v1tale @bigchungusdrinksspritecranberry @pipsqueakpiper @lovely-dove69 @forcefullyawake @philwrites @mkelly16 @mymidnightsky @hydrasgarden @bak-eri @sweet-potat0 @shybookdragon @risingofjupiter @lostsoul526 @belm4rie @calciferthelivingfire @kiannaf @bottlcaps @bellizs @lewd-alien @xynokune @blinkerteleporthero @ciai5v-blog @pink-ys-world @sym6olism @roku907 @tati-the-fangirl @avtrsiren @cheesestickz @night-fall-moon @thegothicfox @jellyfish-princess3 @moonlitlovver @1-800-powpow @ssseu4643 @lethargicluv @katsutoria @greatbeautyoflife @morosluvbug @croweyes @memoysie @wonyexe @izakyun @funktchonalhuman3 @cumberdaddys @victoria2054 @sweetdayme4427 @undergroundratwatcher @heyimolive @bru5678 @accliahowl @2000m1n @captain-aulasy @pyro-arts0nist @iogutwsm @tigerlily7270 @opossumclown @yuren-sj @mioblobby @craxkbaby @avivamaligua-blog @madschiavelique @puppyminnnie @jackiekennedysxx @izabell26 @novausstuff @blanksy @alox @ribrye @prolongedmonologues @lananotdelreytbh @fleurlust @microsketchy @paudemuss @cxm177e @xxjinchuurikixx @gummyellie2000 @kenzbruhh @that--thing @firehart9 @pudimpood @emikareads @madschiavelique @elwiwi09 @ohgutz @shortnmean @tfamidoingwithmylife @luvhyux @sodandoumaolhadasla @zomzomfun @darknessbyme @w0nd3rlnd @omg--bluexx @bonkme26 @sunnyfranc @puppyminnnie @brandy-and-bane @m0ch10 @smokeycoconut11 @thegutterrat @schey @littleanubis21 @imbadatmakinusernames @iwasholic @aw-coffee-n0 @smotheredinlighterfluid @thehappyaddy @enoa-nightshade @hal0an0maly @nexxus13 @cloudstuffy @sorurolis @lovebuggyboo @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @simping-for-mgg @red22wolf @vasarii @bakusquadobsessed

#jayce talis x reader #jayce x reader #puppy jayce talis #puppy!jayce x reader #alpha!jayce talis #lockjaw #a/b/o

758 notes · View notes

gatorbites-imagines · 5 months ago

Note

Please, please, I'll do whatever you want, just more yautja

Male Elder Yautja OC (Ge'jaar) x male reader

Ficlet

I still don’t really know a whole lot of the yautja lore, but I love them anyways. So, heres me cooking up an oc and hoping it’s somewhat canon because I love yautja and will take any excuse to write about them. Readers somewhat based off of an oc of mine. Reader is also around 6ft 5 inches. Ge'jaar is 9ft or so.

Bako really grew on me for some reason when I wrote this, so lemme know if you guys wanna read about him.

You were old. Very old. You hadn’t kept much track of just how old you were, it didn’t really matter, but you only appeared to be in the 50s or very good 60s. You knew you were a lot older than that, having spent at least 100 years away from earth, hunting. You had returned though, at some point, and settled down in a very defensible cabin far away from much of everything, where you could live in peace with your “dogs”.

Well, you called them dogs, mainly because they walked on all fours and had a tail they’d wag, and followed orders. An ex of yours had called them Kiande amedha, you just called them xenomorphs, or your beetle dogs. Years ago, back when you had successfully killed the bad bloods that kidnapped you and your military unit, you had found this little ugly hissing creature. There was a stereotype that humans would bond with most near anything, and they were right.

You brought the little bugger along on the ship you stole from the now dead bad bloods, which took a long time to figure out how to steer. You named your pet Lucky, and you would later learn she was female. Strangely enough, she seemed to follow you as if you were the queen and not her, so it was all fine. Even if she and her first offspring did kill your ex when he tried to hit and control you. One of her offspring lost a leg in that fight, so obviously his name would be tripod.

Luckily for you, sweet little Lucky didn’t breed like other of her kind. Over the years shed only had about 50 offspring, whom she seemed to raise in the same way you remembered earth dogs would do it, sometimes making you wonder if she was some kind of crossbreed. Having 50 kiande amedha though, made you very dangerous in the eyes of your ex’s species, especially when they learned you controlled them.

Joining the hunt hadn’t been something you had outright planned to do. Or getting juiced up with whatever weird drugs and inventions the clans you were friendly with cooked up. That was why you grew so much taller, and aged so slowly.

Ge'jaar wasn’t part of one of the clans you fought alongside. You two actually met, when a group of young bloods tried to hunt your beetle dogs. Apparently, they thought you would be an easy target, being an ooman and all. Of course, you made sure to show them you weren’t. they successfully killed one of your pets, a spunky one named Hoover because he ate everything. And like any hunter worth their salt, you needed revenge.

It led to some political struggles and conversations between clan elders, since you were pretty much a part of that one specific clan now after so many hunts together.

Ge'jaar wasn’t the leader of his clan, but still counted as an elder. He was handsome, in his own, scaley way. His skin was white and covered in the same dark splotching as all yautja seemed to carry. He wore a lot of the same clothing as most yautja did, and would later on wear a cape you made from the hide of a beast you had hunted.

In the end, Ge'jaar went as far as to apologize and repay you for the dead “hunting hound”. Bako, one of the males from your apparent clan, would later tell you it was because Ge'jaar wanted to fuck you. You were still very salty about Hoover though, so you acted quite nasty and confrontational with Ge'jaar and his clan for a good chunk of years.

The cape Ge'jaar would start to wear, hadn’t even been a gift in your mind. For some reason the elder yautja had followed along for one of your solo hunts, in Bakos words “going on a date” with you. And yes, Ge'jaar was very impressive to watch fight, he was very big and broad, alright? The creatures purple blood sprayed all over his white skin also didn’t help.

You couldn’t even remember what you had said to him, but it must have been some threat or curse as you threw the creatures skin at him, since you only wanted the meat and bones. It made no sense to you at the time why Ge'jaar started wearing the fur, and you hadn’t wanted to ask Bako since the guy had just started cackling at you when he saw it.

It was only years later when you had settled back down on earth, that it really seemed to register to you that Ge'jaar was trying to charm you, in his own yautja way. Still feeling so angry about Hoovers death, even if Ge'jaar himself didn’t do it, you took all the hunting and dead creatures by your ship and hut as a threat or challenge. All the jewelry and armor as harder to explain, and you still had the book about yautja mythology somewhere on your shelf.

At that point, you had just assumed Ge'jaar moved on, since you hadn’t seen him in so long. The only yautja you truly spoke much too nowadays was Bako and those from his clan. And of course, the ones that still owed you favors, just to remind them you were still alive to cash in on it.

You had just returned from one of your trips to the nearest large city, a trip that took you almost two weeks since everything was far away, when you saw him again. Or rather, one of your beetle dogs saw him, a young one named Blue, since his dome of a head reflected blue more than the rest.

Blue had been born, laid? On earth, and had seen very little true combat, so you assumed that was why he was the friendliest of them all. Where most of Lucky’s offspring that had known space and combat stuck to the shadows and settled in the cave system near your cabin, Blue was a real lapdog.

Friendly enough it seemed, to just accept an intruder in your home. Stepping out of your truck, Blue trotted out of your cabin door, which was wide open, looking as happy as a clam with dried meat in his maw. There was a feeling in the air that you weren’t alone, so grabbing at your beloved weapon of choice, you were about to fall back into old habits.

That was until Ge'jaar of all people, stepped out of your cabin, wearing one of your shirts. Well, trying to wear one of your shirts. It was one of the largest shirts you owned, old and worn with some odd shape on the front that might have been a logo once.

The elder yautja looked very comfortable, right at home honestly, his dreadlocks pulled into a bun on the back of his large head, and a damn sleeve of cookies in his massive hand. The confusion must have been so clear on your face, as the retired hunter chittered and laughed, moving closer to help you lug stuff back into your cabin and into your massive basement.

The confusion was strong enough that you just kinda went along with it, moving everything from your large truck and away from sight until you needed it. It was only after you both sat down on the couch that you took notice of the minor changes to your home, it looked very much like Ge'jaar had just moved himself in.

You could have smacked him right then and there, maybe cut all his dreadlocks off and made him swallow his mandibles, but somehow the massive scarred yautja made himself look so innocent and borderline lovable.

Blue, the little fucker, just got comfortable on a large fur Ge'jaar had laid out across the floor, tail whipping all over and knocking trinkets off your coffee table. The little traitor, you knew you spoiled him too much.

It took a lot of explanation from Ge'jaar, and you had a feeling if you hadn’t lived amongst his people for so long you might have lost it, but apparently Ge'jaar had made some plea to his clan leader, and yours since apparently you still counted as one of those, and you two were pretty much married without your approval.

Well, or so you would say, but all your guy’s “dates” and all the “gifts” you passed between you counted as courting. You settling down back on earth just appeared to be retirement in their eyes. It wasn’t like you still hated Ge'jaar, you never really had thinking back, it just… came as quite a surprise.

Ge'jaar still kept on courting you, even when you fed most of the things he caught to Lucky and her offspring. The elder yautja took your claim that Lucky was your child to heart, clicking and purring when she, and by extent her offspring, finally accepted his presence.

Time was a true blur out in the mountains, you only really noticed it by the seasons passing and you needing to go back into town two or three times a year to stock back up. But soon enough Ge'jaar was part of your life, and yes, you still snipped and bit at him sometimes, but this time it was meant as flirting.

Your mate, since that’s what you guys were now, was so patient and seemed to find your human nature endearing enough to pick up on some of it himself. It still felt very weird to be given flowers by a seasoned hunter like Ge'jaar, or to walk in on him watching Gilmore girls with Blue draped across his lap, but you got used to it.

It was probably best that you and Ge'jaar were the ones to get together, since he was older, had already had all the offspring he wanted. The yautja was also confident enough in himself that he didn’t get jealous the same way your ex had. Ge'jaar was hot and he knew this even in his fluffy robe and slippers, though you couldn’t help but miss him in his netting and weapons at times.

It turned out to be a lot more comfortable than you had thought to retire, with your mate who had to be hundreds of years older than you, and your many, many beetle dogs. There were times you debated on going out for a hunt again, as a date, for old times sake, but that was something you would need to discuss with Ge'jaar first.

409 notes · View notes

kiame-sama · 8 months ago

Text

Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x Fem!Reader) pt 8

(My laptop decided to keep working so I took advantage of the moment, here is Ortho. Yes, his left hand is covered because I hate how it turned out and I suck at drawing hands, used his typical pose in the game. I also hyper fixated on this chapter, hence why I got it done so fast. Don't expect me to be so prompt in the future on chapters.)

Warnings; yandere, yandere relationship, yandere temper, yandere behavior, romantic and platonic yanderes, multiple yanderes, monster men, fem reader, use of some Japanese words (nii-san), violence, blood, injury, fire, hysterical strength, magic, use of the title of King, weapon use and conversations, Selkie, Cervitaur, Shinigami, Faun, Satyr, Kelpie, Water Nymph, Magic Mirror, Unicorn,

~~~~~~~~

You sat in your potions class on the unusually high stool, Grim was seated next to you on his own stool and clearly not paying attention. Professor Divus was talking about the basics of potion-making and the importance it held to many in Twisted Wonderland. Honestly, you were just happy it was a class you could actually participate in.

It was as the lecture continued that you noticed something more than a little unusual. You had been sitting at the only empty cauldron since you showed up a little late to class due to having no idea where the class was. Though you asked Silver to show you to your classes- having learned from the prior day that you absolutely could not navigate the school just yet- he still got the lot of you lost in the twisting halls.

Luckily for you, Divus was quick to forgive your late arrival and simply told you to sit wherever there was an open seat. Naturally, you didn't want to sit among the other students that clearly took an interest in you, choosing instead to sit alone with Grim closer to the back of the class. Only, you two weren't alone anymore.

At some point during the lecture being given, someone had quietly moved seats and now sat across from you at the same large cauldron. They were unlike any other student you had met at the school, which certainly said something.

Sitting before you was what appeared to be a youthful boy with blue flaming hair. His skin was a pale white that almost looked grey and his eyes were a bright gold that shined in the gentle light of the potions classroom. He didn't seem to be entirely organic, as the black wings that jutted from his shoulders had exposed metal pieces in a shining white, blue lights between the feathers told you that the wings were almost entirely mechanical. In fact, a lot of this student seemed to be mechanical in some regard.

Covering the bottom half of his face was a full-mouth Oxygen mask that had several tubes running into it, feeding oxygen in and likely removing any carbon dioxide he exhaled. The tubes ran down the sides of his face and towards his back into the mechanical wings where the faint whir of machinery likely pumped breathable air into his mask. You could see that his right arm was fully mechanical and made of that same white metal, the joints covered in a skin-like black material that was clearly built to stretch and move with the arm. Though he didn't seem to be fully mechanical, there were clear augmentations to two of his limbs that indicated a good part of the limbs were added on after the fact. Over his eyes was a screen-like visor that scrolled several things you were unable to read as they scrolled by.

He seemed to be shorter than the others you had seen in the school and he wasn't obviously any of the species you had met prior. You would have assumed he was a Harpy due to the wings and metallic feathers, but feathers weren't present anywhere else on his body and he didn't have the same bird-like behavior Vil had presented you with. If you didn't know any better, you would even begin to believe they were a child-

"Hi. I'm Ortho Shroud. Nice to meet you, (Y/n)."

The voice that came from the unusual creature near you startled you somewhat. Stunned to hear what sounded like a pre-teen boy greet you quietly. He was clearly trying to avoid drawing attention from Divus and you were curious enough about this boy you didn't mind ignoring class for a bit to talk to him.

"Right, Nii-san said Humans like to introduce themselves before you use their names. Sorry, I'm just so excited to meet you. I've always wanted to meet a Human."

You slowly blinked at the student, now fully believing that he was a little boy and most certainly did not fit in among the older students. Maybe you were wrong as you first thought Lilia was younger than the other students as well before you learned he was a father.

"Nice to meet you too, Ortho. Um... Did you just want to say 'hi' or did you need something from me?"

"Need something? Nope. I just wanted to get to know you since Nii-san and I are going to be the ones guarding you next week."

This made a lot more sense now. Every class you had attended, very few students seemed to actually want to talk to you and instead wanted to gawk at you or whisper about you. The few students who did have the courage to talk to you were the few you already knew, but unfortunately Ace and Deuce were not in the same potions class. Naturally this boy had to be a Housewarden or Vice-Housewarden like Malleus and Lilia or someone close to them like Silver and Sebek.

"Okay. I'm not sure if class is the best time to have that talk though."

"Oh, it's fine. I'm very good at multitasking, so I'm listening to you and to class right now. The potion we're making today is super simple, so I can teach you how to make it. It's just a regular sleep potion."

He really wasn't giving you much of a choice but you figured it was because he was genuinely wanting to talk to you. Much like kids tended to do, he was trying to get you to talk to him and interact with him by being a little pushy even though he didn't need to be.

"Sure, let's talk."

This made the boy perk up and almost seem to rock in his seat excitedly. There was a kind of infectious happiness to him that was truly quite endearing despite his unusual appearance.

"Okay, so first off- because you probably can't tell- I'm a Shinigami. I do have several cybernetic parts but they're being upgraded and improved all the time by my Nii-san. He's a Shinigami too, and he won't ever say it, but he is really excited to meet you and won't stop talking about you-"

A sudden error message flashed on the screen visor he wore and he seemed to pout in response to this. The moment he noticed your confused look he returned his attention to you, pointing at his visor with a smile.

"That's just Nii-san. He's getting all embarrassed that I'm telling you these things. He made this for me, you know? This visor, my leg, my arm, and my wings. He's really smart and makes such cool stuff. I was hoping, since you're a Human, maybe you could come to Ignihyde sometime? I'm sure he'd like to hear about you and things where you come from. Maybe we could even play some videogames while we're there? I don't get to play games with others all that often since Idi-nii doesn't have anyone over, but he and I play games together. Maybe we could all play?"

You found yourself agreeing to the boy's request, as odd as it was and wondering just what the boy hoped of you. Clearly he was happy to talk to you and he must have been keen to make friends with you despite knowing so little about you. May as well make nice with those who would be guarding you seeing as you technically didn't get any say regardless in the situation.

~•§•~

Lunch finally rolled around and you were excited to sit with some familiar faces as you made your way into the cafeteria. Ortho had spent the entire morning with you and the two of you talked about almost everything, from what videogames they had in Twisted Wonderland to what species was the most abundant. The morning was generally a great crash-course kind of day to understand just what kind of world you found yourself in.

You were able to ask questions without feeling belittled by the cybernetic boy and he was happy to answer anything you asked him. He even showed you how to use the phone Crowley had gifted you that morning. It was similar to a smartphone from your world, but oddly different and Ortho explained that many devices ran off of magic or had some kind of magic element to them. Your phone was different from others because it didn't require magic to work like most phones did. Apaprently all of Ortho's cybernetic limbs were also a kind of technomancy that incorporated Ortho's own magic to keep running. You were actually vaguely excited to meet his older brother as it was clear he was the exact kind of guy you had been hoping to meet. Thanks to Ortho, you had a list on your phone of all the technology you were accustomed to but didn't have in Twisted Wonderland. Part of you hoped this Idia would be able to make half of the items you requested and if he thought they were useful, maybe he could patent them and use them but just give you the prototypes to keep. That heated blanket seemed even closer now.

Still, it was nice to have a break. Even if Ortho was a cheerful young man- and you learned he was only thirteen years old- it was still exhausting to chat with the social boy all the time. A smile pulled at your lips as you saw Ace and Deuce sitting together, Grim running ahead to dig in the various foods the boys had brought. Looking over their selection, you were glad you made yourself a sandwich that morning.

"Hey, Human."

"Hello again, (Y/n), how were your classes?"

You sat down across from the Goats, watching them shovel food into their mouths much in the way Goats of your world so happily snacked on everything in reach.

"It was alright. I met someone new today and he was happy to tell me a lot of what I just wouldn't know about Twisted Wonderland."

"Who was that?"

"Ortho Shroud. Perky kid, half cyberaugmented half Shinigami, a real treat to talk to."

Ace snorted as if what you said was hillarious, rolling his eyes and chowing down on a cellery stick. You vaguely wondered if the two species- Faun and Satyr- mainly only ate vegtables or if they still ate meat if presented with it. Deuce certainly seemed interested in your sandwich but was not bold enough to ask about it.

It was while you were enjoying your time with the Goats and feeding little pieces of sandwich to Grim that you took note of something. Everyone had some kind of weapon on them at all times. You really hadn't noticed it before because it was just so commonplace but as you looked you noticed there were varying kinds of weapons, but at least one on every student.

"Wait, so why does everyone have a weapon on them? I thought fighting wasn't allowed on school grounds."

You asked the Satyr that was currently stuffing his face as you eyed the varying weapons each student seemed to carry on their person. Some had bows and arrows, like the Drider Rook. Some had swords affixed to their hips, like Sebek and Silver. Some had little daggers, like the cackling Gnoll Ruggie. The only thing that seemed consistent on the many different instruments of war were the large singular jewel attached to the main body of the tools. The jewel seemed to vary among seven colors but all seemed unique to the wielder as well either in shape or location of the jewel.

"Mmph?"

Ace mumbled past his food, trying to answer your question but almost spitting the food at you. You were less worried about the veggie scraps he ate and simply used your hand to shield your sandwich from any potentially spat out food.

"Don't talk with your mouth full, Ace."

The sudden voice of Trey had you looking up at the large centaur that smiled patiently at you, only the slightest of glares highlighting his face as he glanced at Ace. Ace quickly tried to swallow down the food, starting to choke as Deuce leaped to his frenemy's rescue with a frim swat between the shoulder blades. Even as Ace panted and tried to take a breath, you simply turned back to the Kelpie who patiently waited for your attention to return to him.

"Since Ace is busy dying right now, Trey, why does everyone have some kind of weapon on them?"

"Those are our Magestone weapons. Magestones are used by the magically talented to channel their magic through and keep track of their blot levels."

"Blot levels?"

"Yes, blot is a byproduct of magic. For every use of magic, blot forms and accumulates in the body. Blot is mostly harmless in small amounts and can be removed through proper rest and nutrition. In high amounts, it can lead to overblotting which turns the affected effectively feral. Though we claim to be evolved beyond our base instincts, we still all have them and are subject to them on a daily basis. Overblot exaggerates those instincts and forces them to become the primary decision makers. A mage that goes feral could easily kill others or themselves. Hence why we use magestones to help avoid blot accumulation."

You were surprised to hear all this, seeing the large claymore hanging from Trey's hip even as he spoke in a relaxed tone to you. It certainly explained the large jewels that each weapon seemed to have, but it didn't really explain the actual weapons.

"Okay, so why not put the magestones on pens or something easier to carry around? Why weapons?"

"Well, you've encountered at least one creature in the woods around campus, right? They are animals that have been corrupted by blot and some are even students or townsfolk who were overcome and unable to break free of their feral instincts. They've since lost themselves to the madness and now stalk their previous homes. Sometimes we need to go into the woods for herbs, or to get to the nearby towns for supplies. Sometimes those beasts come out of the woods seeking an end to their torment. Either way, it is better to have a weapon on you that you can channel magic through than to have nothing to defend yourself with."

"Really? Are those things everywhere?"

"Everywhere life and magic exist. Those beasts are why Humans struggled so much until they befriended several magic using species. Where Humans are assumed to be immune to blot due to being magicless, they are still susceptible to the creatures turned feral by blot. The Unicorns were first to start safeguarding Humans from Ferals in earnest, if I am recalling properly, then the Fae, then the rest of the world mostly followed. Honestly, you Humans impress me to even be able to survive without magic and all those Ferals running around."

You almost ducked your head in embarrassment at the warm tone Trey used when talking about Humans. Though it was somewhat patronizing, you still figured that the Kelpie meant it affectionately as he seemed to be more knowledgeable when it came to Humans. Most others didn't seem to have the same interest in the history and just took an interest in you, so it was nice to hear about what exactly Humans of Twisted Wonderland were like.

"Can a Feral be brought back to their senses? Like, if someone here became Feral from overblot, could they be brought back or is it like Rabies and they just have to be put down?"

"I'm not certain what these 'Rabies' are, but yes, if caught in time and incapacitated- or forced to rest- someone can recover from turning Feral. If they are Feral for too long they are consumed by their blot and become living nightmares. Just because others can recover doesn't mean turning Feral doesn't leave any marks. Much of the time it is a rather destructive event and usually the best way to tell how far gone someone is, is by their appearance. The more beastly they look, the harder it will be to get them back. Even if they do return from being Feral, they will have lasting scars."

"Okay..."

"Did you have anymore questions about it?"

"Nope. That makes sense... I mean, some things I don't really get because I don't really know how magic works here, but it makes enough sense for now."

"Glad to be of assistance. I actually came over here to invite you to today's unbirthday party. We often get together and have our own celebration on a day none of the Heartslabuyl students have a birthday. Riddle made it very clear he would like you to attend today's party."

"Can I bring Cater?"

Trey slightly grimaced at this, remembering how angry Riddle had been as he quite literally threw the Water Nymph out of the dorms. Though it would be best to leave Cater out of any Unbirthday parties in the near future, even Trey missed his fellow water creature. It wasn't quite the same to swim the lake without the loud redhead riding along his back or pulling his tail fins.

"... I wouldn't suggest it, but I would rather Cater be allowed back in Heartslabuyl. Maybe Riddle will listen to you if you ask him."

"Okay, I'll bring Cater with me to Heartslabuyl today for the unbrithday party. He can show me how to get there."

"We will see you there, (Y/n). Not to worry, Ace and Deuce will be in attendance as well."

~•§•~

"You sure Trey said it was a good idea? Riddle was steaming mad yesterday and I don't think he'll be too quick to forgive me.."

"He said it was fine and that Riddle would probably listen to me if I asked him to let you back in Heartslabuyl."

"I guess. Looks like they got only some of the roses painted, in any case."

You glanced at the collared Water Nymph curiously, wondering why he would comment something so odd. Maybe it was just a common practice in Twisted Wonderland to actually paint roses. Cater smiled at you as he noticed your queer expression, continuing to walk with you to what he called the Hall of Mirrors. Grim had gone ahead with Ace and Deuce after classes ended, but you made sure to double back to Ramshackle for Cater.

"It's a rule the Queen of Hearts made. She's one of The Great Seven and is who the Heartslabuyl dorm is modled after."

"Who are The Great Seven?"

"Well... That's more a question for Trein and not me, but the Queen of Hearts was a magicless Unicorn that ruled the Queendom of Roses. She came up with all sorts of rules that still don't really make sense to me but Riddle follows them as closely as he follows the Law. Apaprently she was big into Humans because she had over fifty rules related to Humans and how to take care of them."

You hummed at this, noticing you entered what looked like the room you first woke up in with all the floating coffins. The coffins were up near the ceiling now which left seven mirrors surrounding the main central mirror. Naturally Cater instinctively turned straight to the Heartslabuyl mirror but you were more curious about the large mirror sitting in the center of the room. Something about it compelled you to approach, wondering what made this mirror different from the others.

Immediately you noticed that you couldn't see your reflection in the mirror and instead only a dark world greeted you. As you stopped to stand in front of it a sudden green flame was reflected in the mirror, making you take a few steps back in surprise at the sudden movement. From the flames emerged a face that looked like a mask, eyeless and wearing an expression of seriousness as it revealed itself to you.

"Woah! The mirror never does that for anyone except the Headmage! Look at you being all special, (Y/n)."

You remembered trying to argue with the mirror when it said you could not return to your home, ignoring your questions and refusing to answer you after that first request. Now it seemed the mirror was ready to talk and maybe you could get some answers from it.

"What questions do you approach me with now? Even if return to your home was possible, I could not tell you how. I do not hold the answers you seek, but should you still wish to question me, I will speak."

"Why are you talking to me now, but refused to talk to me before?"

"I know much, but not everything and it is rare a question is asked that I cannot answer in a way that is correct. Yet, many a year has passed since a Human has spoken to me and I am obliged to answer thy questions. I could attempt to spin a favorable answer to the unkown, but you don't want those answers, I suspect. The path you walk now is one that is true, it needs not any corrections."

"Have you spoken with Humans in the past?"

"In an event that is now lost to time, a little Human spoke with me and she was charmed by the way I rhyme."

"Fair enough. Mirror, I don't have any magic, do I?"

"You already know the answer yet insist to hear it from another voice. There is no magic within you and it is not a matter of opinion or choice."

You nodded, looking at the frowning face in the green flames for a moment longer. There were plenty of things you could still ask but something told you it was best to leave the miror alone for the time being. If you thought of actual questions to ask and not the nonsensical questions you wanted to ask, you could always talk to the mirror again.

"Thank you for talking to me. I was worried you might hate me."

"I could never hate a Human for in all my years, a Human has never been hateful to me. In my vast knowledge and memory, all I feel is happy when it is a Human I get to see. Were it possible, I would be of greater use to you. Untill we speak once more, adieu."

You somewhat smiled, stepping away from the mirror and back to Cater who was still staring. The face was gone now and you wondered if it had only shown up to talk to you, disappearing once the conversation was over.

"Huh. Guess there is a lot more to you than meets the eye. Anyways, we're gonna be late to the unbirthday party if we don't go soon."

"Right, so how do we do this?"

"You've already used Diasomnia's mirror, so it should be the same when you use Heartslabuyl's mirror. Just... Don't be too surprised if you hear Riddle yelling. He will probably be driving himself mad trying to make everything perfect. He always does."

You both approached the mirror labeled for Heartslabuyl, walking into the shiny surface that seemed to ripple in response. When your vision cleared you were interested to see a large dorm building made of red and white brick. Surrounding it on all sides were rose bushes that seemed to have several red roses sitting proudly on the surface. The playing card motif was apparent in the presence of the suits all somewhere tucked into the architecture of the buildings but it was clear Hearts were preferred due the shape of the rosebushes and most arches were some kind of heart.

It was during your admiration of the rather lovely garden that a familiar voice called out a greeting. The greeting made Cater quickly move to hide behind you again, as if he intended to use you as a shield. Trotting over to greet you was both Riddle and Trey. They looked rather different from their school uniforms and instead seemed to be wearing a similar style clothing to what you would expect from the aesthetics of the dorm. Sitting atop Riddle's head near his golden horn was a golden crown that must have relied on some kind of magic to keep it affixed as it sat crooked on his tresses.

"(Y/n), I'm thrilled you could be in attendance for today's party. Your seat of honor is ready in accordance with the Queen's rules and-"

Riddle's pleasant smile immediately fell as he took note of the Nymph hiding behind you, his once bright mood now soured by the uninvited presence.

"What are you doing back here, Cater? Did I not make myself clear that you were never to set foot here again? And you are with (Y/n), no less! If you were not already collared I would-"

"Riddle?"

The Unicorn's voice caught in his throat as you directly said his name. You hadn't actually called him by name to his face before and something about the sweet tone you had rendered the Unicorn near mute. He was quick to try and respond to you, his voice somewhat cracking from stress as if he were talking to you for the first time despite having spoken with you before.

"Ye-yes?"

"I know you're mad with Cater, but I am asking you to let him back in Heartslabuyl. Sure, he messed up. He's flawed. But hey, who can truly say they aren't?"

"But, because of him-"

"I now need to be guarded and protected so I am not poached by others who would rather see me dead. Yeah, I'm mad about it too. I would like to be able to just be in my dorm and not have to be protected just to live. But if Cater didn't do it, someone else would have. Does that mean I completely forgive him? Absolutely not. Still, to force him out of his home and away from his friends, surely even you can see how cruel that is."

"I-" Riddle looked back at Cater and then back at you, struggling to find the words before he let out a long sigh, "fine. He is going to stay collared until he truly grasps the consequences of his actions, but he is no longer banned from Heartslabyul. Cater, I hope you thank (Y/n) for sticking up for you, especially because you don't deserve it."

"I thanked her a bunch when she let me stay in Ramschackle and cooked some dinner and even breakfast for me-"

"Just say 'Yes, Housewarden Riddle' and hurry along. There are still roses to paint red and without your magic you'll have to work quickly to get them all done."

Cater quickly shut his mouth, running off to do as he had been told by the lovely Unicorn whose smile quickly returned as the Nymph left view. It was odd to you to see how quickly the Unicorn's temper shifted, but you considered yourself lucky that you had managed to talk him into letting Cater come back. One less mouth in Ramshackle to feed and one less person to wake you up before the crack of dawn wanting breakfast.

"Now that unpleasantness is out of the way, shall we?"

He extended an arm out to you, smiling when you reached out and let him lead you to the gardens. It seemed to be almost fully decorated for a party as the rather long table was set for everyone with many different pastries. You were stunned to see the baked goods strewn across the table and Trey chuckled upon seeing your surprised expression.

"The Queendom of Roses is known for many Human foods and have carried on the traditional meals the Queen of Hearts loved. Baked goods are very popular and my family even owns a bakery."

"Do you cook much beyond baking?"

"I'm afraid I'm not that good, but I'd love to learn if you're willing to teach me."

"We can make it an exchange. Teach me how to make some of your pastries and I'll teach you how to cook some meals."

"It's a deal."

Riddle almost seemed irritated at how you were chatting with Trey, but he was content he got to keep you close as you admired the decorated garden. The unpainted roses near the front were just another frustration for Riddle, but at least the garden where the party was being held looked alright. He certainly put his freshmen to work given Cater was usually the one to paint the roses given his Unique Magic.

"Here, let me show you to your seat. I will warn you, there is a mouse asleep in the tea pot and she is not supposed to be woken up, so if you would like some tea, ask me and I will get you some."

"A mouse?"

"Yes, and if she wakes up we need to put jelly on her nose. She has been fussy recently, so it may prove to be difficut."

"Alright," you chuckled softly, "I will make sure not to wake her. Where do all these rules come from?"

"I forget you're not from here sometimes. The Queen of Hearts made many rules and as the dorm modeled after her, it is our duty to uphold her rules. Such as the rule of leaving a seat at the head of the table for a Human. Even after they went extinct, it is still a rule I upheld for every unbirthday party. Now, that seat is yours."

He led you to the head of the table and even pulled the chair on the left side out for you, almost seeming excited at the prospect of your attendance at the party. As you sat down he pranced around to the other side, smiling as he took his place at the head of the table. You could see not too far from you, Ace was holding a fussing Grim while Deuce attempted to feed the semi-stressed cat-beast a piece of tart.

"Now we can get the party underway."

"Thank you for inviting me, Riddle, it's nice to enjoy food I don't have to make."

"Such a shame. I understand there is a need for food being cooked before you can eat it safely, just another rule others can't seem to follow. That's why you will be staying in Heartslabuyl from now on. That way you can enjoy all our unbirthday parties and be kept safe with me."

"But," you started, feeling rather confused by the Unicorn's declaration, "the Headmage and Ortho both said Ignihyde will be guarding me next-"

"They can't take care of you the way you need to be!"

Riddle's sudden outburst made everyone go quiet, staring at the Unicorn in unease as it was clear his temper was rising. He didn't seem to realize the others were looking now as he stomped one hoof, angrily crossing his arms almost like a pouting child. It was odd to see the Unicorn behave in such a way, as Trey had even told you Riddle was almost twice his age.

"Riddle-"

"Enough! You will be staying here where you can be treated properly in accordance to the Queen's rules, end of discussion. If I have to take your head to make you see how much safer you are here, I will."

The direct threat was an unexpected one but it made Trey realize just how close the Unicorn was to snapping. He was already on edge due to Cater being brought back into the fold without his permission so the light pushback from the treasured Human was just pressing his temper further.

"Riddle, enough. You can't force her to stay-"

"Even you, Trey? Are all of you against me now? It doesn't matter, I will protect this one human, with or without your help."

"Riddle, you've gone too far now. You need to stop or be stopped-"

"SHUT YOUR TRAITOROUS MOUTH! NONE OF YOU UNDERSTAND ONLY I CAN DO WHAT NEEDS TO BE DONE TO PROTECT MY KING OF HEARTS!"

A sudden burst of magic from Riddle kicked up what almost looked like smoke that quickly coated the entire garden. You struggled to see through the haze as you covered your mouth to not breathe in the dark cloud.

As the dust settled and you could finally look up again, seeing a beast standing before you.

His eyes were no longer the lovely pale blue they had been, now overtaken by red rage. His white fur was coated in what seemed to be ink that flowed down from his face and up from his once-golden hooves. The gold upon his body had all turned a corrupted inky black and his very face seemed to have been torn at the corners of his mouth to accommodate the fangs that now gleamed and jutted past his lips.

Fire began to lick around the garden, sweeping up the rose bushes and crackling dangerously as ash slowly coated the ground. Everything seemed to change in the blink of an eye as the vicious creature stood before you, blinded by anger and fueled by hate. Perched against his shoulder was a large two-handed axe that looked as if someone took a metal heart and pieced through the handle to make a viciously sharp instrument.

"What's happening?"

You called out to the other students as you tried to go to their aid only to be forced back into your chair, vines sprouting up to grab your arms and hold you to the seat. The vines were far too tight and far too sturdy for you to do much else besides try and struggle against them. They did not yield to your desperate attempts at freedom.

"He's overblotted and gone feral! All Heartslabuyl students, get back to safety-"

"OFF WITH YOUR HEADS!"

A sudden burst of magic from the Unicorn left several students clutching at their necks, the large metal collars securing themselves and remaining unmoving despite their struggles. If that wasn't bad enough already, Riddle began to charge, axe raised above his head as if he intended to cleave the others in half. His target was obvious as Trey tried to quickly pull the vines off of you and free you from the chair.

"GET YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF OF MY KING!"

Trey had no choice but to abandon his endeavor and retreat as Riddle's axe narrowly missed the flank of the Kelpie. The table that had been in front of you suffered the brunt force of the Unicorn's crushing hooves and the sharp side of the axe, splitting in half from the force. Your vine restraints only tightened as the chair you had been sitting on dragged you towards the now panting and raging Unicorn.

Trey, Ace, Deuce, and Cater drew their weapons, the magestones on the handles and grips of the instruments gleaming in anticipation. The resident Queen of Hearts had gone feral with rage and would die if he wasn't returned to his senses soon. Not only that, but the last Human in Twisted Wonderland was being held prisoner by the enraged and rampaging Unicorn. They had little choice but to fight back.

Even little Grim, who was clearly frightened of Riddle stood on guard, ready to do what he could to save you and maybe even the Unicorn from what he had become.

You refused to be little more than a damsel to be rescued, pulling and staining against your binds even as they likely bruised your soft flesh. Trey wielded a large claymore that held his magestone in the pommel and clashed with the Unicorn, magic sparking around them. Even though Cater has been collared, he still attempted to use his spear to draw the Unicorn's attention, trying to give his dormmate an opening against the Unicorn.

It quickly became clear to you that their weapons just weren't doing anything against the Unicorn and couldn't even cut his hide as he used the broad side of the axe to shove the two students he had called his friends. You momentarily thought that maybe Riddle didn't want to hurt them as he used the sides of his weapon to push them, but that notion quickly disappeared when he tried to cleave the Kelpie in two. Each slice of the axe was blocked by the claymore as the two continued their dance in battle, almost matching one another step for step.

A dance of monsters as both fought the other fiercely.

It wasn't until Riddle managed to catch Trey's side as the Kelpie reared, throwing the larger centaur back and into the dark waters of the lake. The Kelpie did not resurface immediately as a deep red spread from where he hit the water. Riddle almost seemed to be proud of this feat as he turned away from the lake, leaving Cater to dive in after his friend. Instead, Riddle turned his gaze towards Grim and the Goats.

It took less than a sweeping smack from the axe to send both Goat men sprawling to the ground. Despite Ace's best efforts, the Unicorn kicked away his Xiphos and rendered the Satyr unable to retaliate. Deuce grabbed Ace, pulling him back before the inky hooves of the Unicorn could dig into the latter's skull. As they both moved into the bushes to escape Riddle's wrath, it left little Grim exposed and at the mercy of the Unicorn.

You looked down at your binds and tried even more desperately to free yourself of them, terrified the Unicorn would kill your sweet little friend.

"You," his voice was dripped in venom as he spoke, the headsman's axe resting against the Unicorn's shoulder, "you are the worst of them all."

You looked up to see Riddle was standing over an all too familiar shaking and terrified figure, the gray fur was ruffled and standing out even as the soft creature tried to ball himself up. Grim was horrified and didn't realize that these fancy students could be taken over by feral instincts the way the beasts of the woods could be.

"You cuddle in her arms and turn her against me with your vile words! Acting as if you have any right to her, to call her 'your Hooman' and insult my King of Hearts so callously. You will be first to truly lose your head for this!"

As the axe raised and the Unicorn reared back, you found yourself freed. It didn't really matter to you if you freed yourself or if you had been freed, all that mattered was getting to Grim. Things both moved too fast and too slow for your brain to take genuine note of the things around you as your legs pushed you forward to your goal. The axe began to fall and your mind went blank with white hot rage.

"GRIM!"

Stunned silence fell over the winding garden as the frightened and confused students stared upon the horrific scene. Your arm hung limply at your side, blood slowly dripping down the soft skin and marring the grass with a deep crimson. No one could speak as they stared at the beast made flesh.

The beast before you had been thrown back from simple and pure hysteria fueled rage. Even as he struggled to get back up, you could see he had the wind knocked out of him from the force and strength of your blow. Struggling to breathe and winded from your rage, he almost seemed angry before he truly looked at what stood before him. Even as he struggled to stand, his eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow, regret, and confusion. No magic had touched him.

You felt nothing but slowly fading rage as you stared at the rampaging Unicorn that had so happily tried to cut down your closest friend since you woke up in his nightmare realm. Even as the axe sliced into your non-dominant forearm and pressed against bone, you refused to look away from the now shocked inky abomination. The fangs riddling the maw of this monster parted and that same distorted voice spoke, now laced with pain.

"You weren't supposed to- I didn't mean to..!"

Held in your dominant hand was the soft and still shaking body of your confidant and companion as he confusedly wondered if he had died. His bright blue eyes daring to peak up towards his savior but fear still gripped his heart. Holding him so securely was the Human he loved being around and joking with, but the expression she now wore was one of unbridled fury even with the large axe embedded in her soft flesh.

You slowly fell to your knees in the grass, arms covered in bruises from your previous bindings and eyes filled with firey hate. No one even saw you move, let alone make it across the garden to where you were now. They had all been so focused on Riddle that they were caught off guard by the sudden display of strength from who they assumed to be the weakest among them.

Humans were weak, fragile, and above all else in need of protection, right? So why did they all feel so genuinely afraid at that moment?

"Why did you-?"

Taking advantage of Riddle's momentary return of consciousness, Trey was quick to launch an attack at the distraught Unicorn from the lake he pulled himself out of. It hit him square between the eyes causing a cascading reaction of golden magic to erupt from the Unicorn's horn. The light was near blinding but you ducked down, using your non-mangled arm and body to shield your little friend.

Your world went dark.

#kiame-sama #yandere #x reader #yandere x reader #reader insert #tw yandere #yandere twst #twst monster au #Humans Are Extinct TWST AU

438 notes · View notes

lilislegacy · 3 months ago

Text

Hot take: The original Percy Jackson and the Olympians series is NOT fit for being a TV show. At all. But Heroes of Olympus is.

Why, you may ask? Because although PJO technically takes place over the course of few years, each individual PJO book takes place over a very short period of time—usually only a few days, maybe up to a week (with the exception of parts like Calypso’s island). Nearly all the scenes and events take place back-to-back. But with a TV show, you have to find places to break it up, and there’s a whole week between every single episode. So it’s basically taking us two months to watch an awkwardly fractured series of continuous events that actually take place over the course of a few days. It’s weird. It just feels off. Unless Rick decides to release all the episodes at once (which I don’t think he will), it’s just gonna feel weird asf no matter how much he tries to fix the pacing.

Heroes of Olympus, on the other hand, is MUCH BETTER for a TV show format. It takes place over the course of several months and has a bunch of little time jumps woven throughout. Plus, the characters are older and there are more mature themes, so it caters to older audiences a bit more too. (Don’t even get me started on how Rick is shooting himself in the foot by refusing to acknowledge that most of his fans are older teens and adults now.)

Now, you may be wondering, ‘aren’t the first couple of HOO books only over the course of like a week?’ Yes, which is why they should show the two at the same time. Don’t do one season for each—flash between the two! The first episode opens with the lost trio on the bus and is all about Jason getting to camp, and ends with them finding out some guy named Percy is missing. Then, the next episode opens with Percy barefoot, running in the forest with the wolves, and follows his journey to Camp Jupiter. For the rest of the season, the scenes constantly switch between their two POVs throughout each episode, showing their stories side by side. It would be clear that their timelines are different because it would be freezing winter for Jason’s scenes and summer in Percy’s. Then [input slow motion montage of the Argo II being built over the course of several months] the season finale is when their timelines finally meet up, and the Argo II arrives at Camp Jupiter—just like how Son of Neptune ends.

Then, Mark of Athena has its own season since that takes place over a few weeks. Most events take place on different days, and there’s no exact timeline for most of it. House of Hades and Blood of Olympus probably combine into one season. Percy and Annabeth were only in Tartarus for a few days, so maybe HoH makes up three or four episodes, and Blood of Olympus is five or six. These 3 books work for the same reason that shows like The Walking Dead work. The timeline isn’t always exact, but you know stuff is happening somewhat close together but also not on the same day or even the same week.

And with LONGER episodes. Give me hour long episodes, not freaking 33 minutes like season 1 PJO kept doing.

Anyway, that’s how I would do it. However, for many reasons, most of which I won’t get into, I don’t think there’s much hope for Heroes of Olympus even making it to the screen. But I hope I’m wrong.

316 notes · View notes

fl6thy · 2 months ago

Text

mdni, fem reader

warnings; modern au, male masterbation, voyeurism, consensual ambiguity, obsessive undertones, idk he’s lowkey just a freakazoid here

a/n; tysm for the love on my last post! lmk if y’all want a part two to this! :3

longdistancefriend gojo! who’s been a somewhat close friend of yours since high school. you both met from mutual friends at a party ofc and you guys hit it off from there, hanging out sometimes after class or on the weekends.

longdistancefriend gojo! who’s caught off guard when you tell him you got accepted to a university in another state. “oh…... i thought….we were gonna be classmates…at the community college here..” he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, glancing away. regardless tho he’s happy for you!! and you swear you see him tear up a bit during your send off party.

longdistancefriend gojo! who still makes sure to keep in touch with you ofc, sending you memes that pertain to college or two inanimate objects with just the text ‘us’. he also asks about what your professors are like, or if there’s any gossip or drama you’ve heard lately. you both also have monthly update facetime calls, the few times where he actually sees you other than your occasional instagram posts and close friends stories. gojo cherished these times so much, sometimes just getting lost in your eyes instead of paying attention to what you’re saying.

longdistancefriend gojo! who also takes live photos during your facetime calls, some are of you doing funny facial expressions but his most favorites are the off gaurd pictures, the ones you never noticed him take since you were occupied with something else. oh the ones he absolutely adores are the pictures he’s captured of your body the few times when you set up your phone.

longdistancefriend gojo! who strokes himself as he stares at your ass in the picture, in those fuzzy pajama shorts he’d love to push to the side if he had the chance. he holds the picture down to play the live photo, squeezing the base of his dick a bit harder at the small moment of you grabbing a cup from a cabinet taller than you. “mmh…shit..” he shuts his blue eyes as he continues to stroke faster, imagining that it was your ass bouncing on him instead.

longdistancefriend gojo! who’s taken out of his rhythm by his phone ringing. of fucking course it had to be you. he stares at his phone, dick still in hand as he weighs his options. unfortunately his other hand ‘slips’ and answers the call, his breath still heaving and forehead still sweaty. “hey toru!! can you talk right now?” god you looked so good, phone propped up against your vanity showing your full portrait.

longdistancefriend gojo! who chuckles lightly as he starts to stroke himself again slowly off camera. “of course i can, what’s up sweets?” he answers a bit shakily, hoping you don’t notice. you don’t, (or at least didn’t mention it) as you brought up your small day to day business. which unfortunately he was NOT paying attention to as he continued to jerk off, passing off his small moans as “mhm’s” of acknowledgment. you start to notice this after he interrupts you twice.

longdistancefriend gojo! who’s just barely conscious as you as him if he’s okay. “y-yeah why wouldn’t i be?” he asks in the most pathetic and shaky tone known to man, barely even noticing how flushed his face is or how much his other hand is struggling to hold his phone upwards. you tilt your head a bit at him, passing it off as him being drunk by how flushed he was. oh how wrong you were.

longdistancefriend gojo! who tries to hide his sigh of relief when you switch the topic to something else, just focusing on the sound of your voice before you mention him again. “oh toru that reminds me! you should come and visit me now that my roommate moved out, you’d have your own bed and….” he zoned out again after that. come visit you?? god dont suggest that or else he’ll book a flight right now.

“i’d love to…….just….tell me when…” he speaks slowly in order to not moan, still shamelessly stroking himself as he thought about spending time alone with you in your dorm, testing the waters on how loud he can make you moan without a noise complaint, how much he’ll struggle to get off you like a jack rabbit in heat. “what about next week?” you say with a smile.

longdistancefriend gojo! who nearly finished at how excited you looked. “mm let me hang up and get the tickets m’kay?” he says quick and smoothly, not even waiting for a response before hanging up and tossing his phone at the end of the bed.

as he stokes himself he imagines all the different positions he wants to have you in all over the dorm, his breath hitching as he feels his climax approaching. reopening his eyes he looks down at his length, the pretty pink mushroom tip leaking pre. he imagines you between his thighs, using your own hands or lips instead of just his hand.

“fuck…” he murmurs as his pace quickens, his teeth coming down to bite his bottom lip as he chases his release.

longdistancefriend gojo! who cums all over his hands and the bottom of his shirt, his chest heaving as he stares at the ceiling.

longdistancefriend gojo! who realizes…..holy shit. he’s gonna go visit you next week.

#lowkey based this off of a long distance friend that i also want to freak #um anyways #missing gojo hrs #gojo x you #gojo x female reader #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo smut #gojo x reader smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut

90 notes · View notes

cy-lindric · 9 months ago

Note

bonjour cy-lindric, j'ai une petite question. when I was a young person, I read The Three Musketeers and then eagerly started to read Twenty Years After and was so upset at what had happened to my beloved young heroes that I put the book down and never picked it up. what do you think, should I try again?

Bonjour !

After reading The Three Musketeers, I also wasn't sure I wanted to read Twenty Years After, and I took a break inbetween both to read something entirely different (The Locked Tomb, iirc). I think my reason for that was kind of the opposite of yours ; I enjoyed T3M a lot and loved the characters, flaws and all, but by the end they had somewhat crossed over the line into being Too Awful and the lack of retribution left me a bit frustrated. I didn't see it as a failing of the story - on the contrary, their strong character flaws and downfall in the conflict with Milady is one of the most emotionally intense and compelling parts imo - but I wasn't sure I felt like hanging out with these guys for a few hundred more pages at that point.

If your vision of the characters as a young reader was a very positive and perhaps idealized one, I can imagine why you might not have enjoyed entering into Twenty Years after. The illusion of glory has worn off ; the characters have separated, they live unremarkable lives, and their personalities have evolved drastically with the passing of time. It's almost a brutal return to reality.

For me though, it added layers of characterization to the point where now it's clear to me that this version of the Inseparables is by far the one I prefer.

I hope it's ok if I take the opportunity to talk at length about what I like about TYA below the cut. TL;DR : I love that Twenty Years After is a more realistic look at the big four's personalities and how they evolved while still keeping them thematically coherent, and that TYA makes them confront the reckless and cruel shit they did in their youth.

Spoilers ahead obviously.

We've often talked about how T3M is at its core a story about the end of knighthood. It's a tongue-in-cheek approach at chivalrous initiation, set at edge of the modern world, inbetween the time of ballads about knights in armor and that of adventures about journeying gunmen and soldiers. I think TYA embodies that particularly ; the story of people who have carried the last of these intense, dangerous chivalric ideals in their youths, and who have now grown into middle aged adults who need to find their place in the world.

For a good chunk of the book, the big four are separated into two teams ; that in of itself might discourage some, but imo it's genius. Instead of the natural two-by-pairings, Dumas goes for a d'Artagnan+ Porthos and Athos + Aramis split on opposite sides, which makes for good drama and develops lesser explored dynamics. D'Artagnan and Porthos form a scrappy team of opportunists with money on their minds, and Athos and Aramis a more idealistic duo fighting for a noble lost cause. I think it's a bold choice but also premium sequel writing.

I also love the way the young and wild characters we knew evolve into middle aged men ; at their core, they're still the same, but they've all changed and struggled against the sunset of the golden age in their own ways.

D'Artagnan, after knowing such adventures and subsequent rapid social ascension in his teenage years, has been met in his adult life with the harsh reality that he is, in fact, not a noble knight but a soldier on payroll. His modest origins give him little hope for any further career advancement, and he takes on a new mission in his early 40s for a man he has no devotion for and a cause he doesn't care about, simply because he is bored and broke. D'Artagnan still has his quick wits, his strategic talent, his fencing skills, but he has grown out of the excesses of pride of his teenage years. I loved meeting him again in TYA, and it made so much sense to me that his bouts of anger and aggressivity would be a youthful trait that he'd ended up taming. He also realizes now a lot of what seemed like funny adventures and necessary violence was actually kind of fucked up ; that was a shock to me, as their shenanigans are treated so lightly in T3M, and tbh it healed me a little. Grown up d'Artagnan is cunning, calculating, down to earth and realistic. My foxy little man. I love him.

Porthos, likewise, has been struck by the weight of reality. He has made the sensible choice and got married to the rich widow who sugar mommied him in the first book. Now she's passed, he is rich, but he still fails to earn the respect of the high society he evolves in because he's not high born enough. Like d'Artagnan, he's stagnating and bored and now that he goes back adventuring it has nothing to do with the queen or the kingdom or honour ; it's about getting his damn nobility title.

Athos, on the other hand, is the eternal knight : the only truly high born of the four, and still hopelessly holding on to a time gone by. It's no surprise imo that his storyline brings him into the english civil war, doomed to fail at saving a king who'll end up executed right in front of him. TYA acknowledges more clearly than ever that at 28 yo, Athos was a depressed alcoholic, and an embodiment of what an excess of aristocratic righteousness can do. In TYA, he is sober and moisturized and a DILF, and now he's running around frantically looking for absolution for his numerous crimes. It's delicious.

Aramis is maybe the hardest pill to swallow. TYA confirms the T3M hints that he isn't really the prim and proper romantic boy he acts like he is, and that he's possibly the most hypocritical and ruthless of the four. It might be a harsh one for Aramis fans who like him better as a cute bean, but I love the early onset of remorseless conniving bloodthirsty ambitious Aramis. Another harsh bit might be the evolution of Aramis and d'Artagnan not really liking each other ; they were always the least close combination, and imo it makes sense that their personalities would clash. I think it's clever and compelling conflict.

Now, obviously, if you've cared enough to read all this and if you know me a little, you know that a huge highlight of the book for me was its late-appearing antagonist, Mordaunt. Mordaunt is the son Milady had with her english husband. Because of the Musketeers' intervention, he's grown up in poverty and has been denied his father's inheritance. He's now a Roundhead working for Cromwell, and set on avenging his mother at all costs. Mordaunt, unlike his mother who was this beautiful and dangerous force of nature, is very uncool and pathetic. She was the primordial snake, he's the gutter rat. Obviously, I love that in and of itself, but it's also kind of striking image of the wretchedness of what they've done to her, a fucked up little goblin ghost come back to haunt them as they're trying to make their life worth living again. This time, their enemy is not a cunning political rival with a flamboyance of body and mind akin to their own ; it's a shitty little guy with bad skin who wants to kill the king and punish the murderers. Watch out babes, it's the modern world coming for you.

Of course, they're the Four Musketeers, and they did what they had to do, so they get together again and swear friendship and keep going their way. But they're also old guys with difficult personalities in a world that's never going to be the same. I think it's a cool book.

#twenty years after #vingt ans après #invizigothx #replies

251 notes · View notes

cheeseanonioncrisps · 1 year ago

Text

I really want the show to go into more detail about Husk's backstory as an overlord, partly because I feel like it's something the fandom is kinda glossing over and partly because it's lowkey one of the biggest obstacles that a Husk/Angel relationship would have into overcome.

'Loser Baby' emphasises the similarities between Angel and Husk's situations, but it also (probably deliberately, since Husk is the one leading it) brushes aside one of the most major differences between them.

Namely that when Husk tells Angel that he's not the only one who sold his soul, he's not just singing about himself.

Husk sold his soul to Alastor, yeah (or lost it at least, which amounts to the same thing), but he also traded in souls. He was that “psychopathic freak”, and was operating fro long enough to achieve Overlord status.

And, honestly? Having your soul owned by Husker back in the day probably sucked.

The one benefit of soul contracts for the person selling their soul is that they seem to get a fair amount of say in how the contract is written.

Angel's contract, for example, apparently has a clause stating that he's only under Valentino's jurisdiction when he's in the studio. (Which, btw, puts a whole other spin on why Val is so pissed when he moves out of studio accommodation and into the Hotel.) And Val is apparently bound to that. Even though he's pissed off and actively wants to put Angel in his place, he can't make any moves against him in the club.

Equally, since most overlords seem to be associated with a specific location/industry, you can generally choose who your working for and therefore roughly what kind of stuff you're gonna be doing.

In practice there seems to be a lot of manipulation and coercion going on on the part of the Overlords making these contracts— they're not fair by any means— but the sinners signing them are theoretically at least guaranteed the right to a (somewhat) informed choice and some control over the deals they make.

Having an Overlord who uses human souls to pay his gambling debts, however, completely undermines all that.

Imagine going into work for your job running the roulette games at the casino only to be told that the boss played a bad hand in a game with Valentino, and so you're a sex worker now.

Or being traded to someone who has you fighting turf wars for them, and realising that your contract doesn't have any clauses to protect your personal safety because you only signed up to be a bartender.

Or selling your soul for a job near your home and family so you can guarantee their protection, only to be traded to someone whose territory is on the other side of the pentagram.

Husk is a victim of his own addiction, yeah, which is one of the reasons why Angel relates to him. But his backstory implies that there must be a significant number of people out there who were also victims of Husk's addiction, and may not be as sympathetic. Dude basically owned other people as property (… we have a word for that) and then literally played games with their lives.

And like, I'm not saying he hasn't changed. He seems more empathetic on the show than his backstory would imply, and apart from anything else, he's had a pretty clear object lesson about what it's like to be on the receiving end of that sort of thing. (Ngl, I'm pretty sure one of the reasons Alastor keeps him around is because he's the type to find the irony amusing.)

But like, he's in this place where he can relate to Angel Dust's situation, while at the same time probably also being able to relate to Valentino and Alastor's perspectives (although I doubt he was quite as bad as Val to work for).

And I'm curious as to what would happen, later in the series, if the gang met someone who had sold their soul to Husk at one point. Someone who would also be able to relate to Angel's situation, but with Husk as their version of Valentino.

#hazbin hotel #angel dust #husker #huskerdust #meta #hazbin hotel meta #yeah i just got thru watching this series and I have Thoughts #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel headcanons #valentino #hazbin hotel spoilers

595 notes · View notes

racke7 · 10 months ago

Text

De-aged and injured Danny

Danny is found out by his parents. They don't take it well.

Clockwork is very upset about this, because he'd gambled on almost-certain odds of them being chill about it. So now he has to run damage-control before this very unlikely time-line goes even further off the deep end.

Unfortunately, Danny needs to be in the living world, not the Infinite Realms. Which means that Clockwork needs to put Danny somewhere safe. Somewhere where nobody will find him.

And double-unfortunately, the only place that remotely fits this bill is to contact Lady Gotham.

City-spirits aren't... super-reliable. They're Neverborns who very very rarely consider "humanoid shapes" worth figuring out. So they just kind of... exist. An ectoplasmic presence that's undeniable, but also extremely difficult to have a conversation with.

Thankfully, Lady Gotham is (for all of her... quirks) generally very hero-aligned. Which is why she's the best one to ask for sanctuary for Danny.

Danny who Clockwork de-aged as a way to "limit his injuries" of being vivisected.

Lady Gotham agrees, but she only has one "safe place" to put him. And her Knight is a little bit too paranoid for her to just dump an injured child in his lair, without causing more trouble than it's worth.

But it's hardly a difficult thing, to arrange a few things, and place Danny in a spot where his injuries will cause her Knight to hurry to his aid.

Such as... in a room filled with medical equipment, right next door to where Joker has just lost a fight with Batman.

Things escalate somewhat when Batman finds him and makes some assumptions about what Joker has been up to. Tempers run a bit high, someone loses a few extra teeth, someone else has to physically drag Bruce off Joker's body before he beats him to death, and the Joker considers the whole thing a grand old laugh (he has no idea what's going on, but it sure pissed off Batty, and that's always a treat).

Of course, the Batfam has to actually investigate the scene, evacuate Danny, give Danny medical aid, and then also ask Danny about what happened.

Danny wakes up and is very confused about a lot of things.

He's no longer being vivisected. Great. Love that part.

He's somewhere he doesn't recognize (the Batcave). Could be good, could be bad. At least the bed is pretty nice?

He's very small. This feels like a personal attack. He might not have gotten a good growth-spurt yet, but taking away what he had is cruel and unusual.

And there's a weirdo in an... armored bat-costume? Who isn't setting off his ghost-sense? What the hell kind of "normal" person wears something like that?

Still, Danny does answer the questions that Batman asks him, because... well, there's a green post-it-note in his pocket that says he shouldn't lie.

So Danny tells Batman about his parents cutting him up "for science". And Batman hears that the Joker somehow managed to hire two mad scientists who (upon the tiniest bit of suggestion from the Joker, who'd definitely seen the similarities between Danny and Jason and thought it would be a "funny prank") had leapt at the opportunity to vivisect their own son.

This is definitely worrying, because from the phrasing, they'd been "wanting to do it for a long time". And considering Danny's slow heartbeat and low body-temperature? They'd been wanting to do it because he was a meta.

So, somewhere out there (the Bats had found no trace of the two) were two deranged lunatics who wanted to cut open metas to "see how they worked".

Batman does the very reasonable thing and actually contacts the rest of the Justice League with their descriptions, just in case they'd managed to leave Gotham before the Bats had tracked them down.

#danny might mention the anti-ecto acts. which would lead them to the GIW which would lead them to Amity Park and to the Fentons.#and would likely stir up a LOT of outrage for a bunch of politicians effectively creating a loophole in a very clear-cut humanitarian law #(the meta-protection acts). and those politicians would probably be very nervous about having gotten caught.#(think about all the cool ecto-tech they could use to make tons and tons of money. as long as ecto-entities don't have any rights)#also also. upon investigating amity park in person? jazz would probably witness against her parents on the spot. no questions asked.#like. she comes home. and danny is gone? her parents are talking about ghost-kidnapping? and now someone official is asking questions?#yes. please. please arrest my parents and tell me where my little brother is. tell me he's safe. tell me he isn't buried somewhere.#jazz is very aware of the risks of her parents ''reacting badly'' to the phantom-reveal. which is why she's been covering for him.#but yes. this is mostly written out as a ''and here is de-aged and traumatized danny in batfam-custody''-setting idea.#bcs involving LadyGotham is fine. but having her TALK to her bats? communicate clearly? make her presence known?#never. she'd refuse on principle. she'd rather stage an arkham-breakout and indirectly murder thousands.#it's her love-language. you wouldn't understand.#laughing #my writing #danny phantom #dc comics #batman #stories

272 notes · View notes

marielle555 · 2 months ago

Text

Astarion's past as a magistrate and Astarion's scenes from EA.

“Who needs morals when you have good hair?” Astarion.

“Two hundred years ago, Astarion was a corrupt elite of Baldur’s Gate with a taste for power and a hunger for eternal life. It wasn’t long before these desires became a nightmarish reality. Transformed into the vampire spawn of a sadistic master, Astarion was kept as a slave to lure fresh noble blood to the palace of Cazador – all while subsisting on the putrid blood of rats. Astarion’s design is inspired by his story of indentured servitude and told through scar tissue and rogue garb. His leather armour still boasts the fine golden embroidery of high society, an aesthetic inspired by 18th-century libertines and European rock stars of the early ‘90s – two subcultures that echo Astarion’s desire to live a life without restraint. But beneath this costume is a constant reminder of the centuries spent enslaved, in the form of a poem carved into his flesh by his vampire lord.”

The first lines of the artbook tell us that our beloved vampire in the past belonged to the corrupt elite of Baldur and craved power and eternal life. And his desire for eternal life was fulfilled, but in a horrible, twisted form - in the form of his worst nightmare - Astarion became the spawn of the sadistic Kazador. In the final of Sun King (Astarion Origins), Astarion recalls how he judged the fates of others in the past. Now in the game we can learn very little about Astarion's past, although it is known that Astarion was a Magistrate. And references to his past are present in several scenes:

References to Astarion's Past as a Magistrate - BG3

youtube

The first mention of Astarion being a magistrate we can hear is if we ask Astarion to tell us about himself (“Tell me about yourself”), Astarion replies, “Oh, what's to tell? I'm a magistrate back in the city - it's all rather tedious.”

After a closer encounter (after the bite), we can also ask: “You must remember your life before that?” “I was a magistrate, working to keep the peace in Baldur's Gate. Imprisoning trouble makers, that kind of thing.” And he adds bitterly: “I can't remember much, truth be told. Centuries of torment will do that to you.”

And if you imagine what Astarion experienced during his years of slavery to Cazador, you can understand, why his past life became something distant for him, why many of his memories are lost. Also according to DnD lore, once a person is converted to a spawn, some of the memory of a person's past life is erased. That said, it's hard to say with that, how much Astarion even wants to tell Tav about his past. “Why do you insist on exhuming the past?” - Astarion sounds tense in this line, somewhat angry, he is distrustful and suspicious.

Three lines in the game in which Astarion talks about what happened to him on that fateful night when Cazador found him:

"I was attacked. A gang of vagrants, a tribe of wandering 'Gur', took issue with a ruling I'd made.”

“They beat me to death's door when Cazador appeared. He chased them off and offered to save me. To give me eternal life."

"Not him, no. A gang of thugs attacked me, angry about a ruling that I'd handed down as magistrate."

The reason the Gur gang attacked and nearly killed Astarion was because of his decision that Astarion made as a magistrate. The reason why the elf noble magistrate was in unsafe parts of the city, where he could be attacked by the Gur gang (this could hardly happen in the Upper City or in a safe neighborhood guarded by guards), and why Cazador happened to be around at the right time and place, is left out of the picture. Astarion also mentions that he had his own “history” with the Gur: “The point is I have history with these barbarians. Cazador's sending a message.” And most likely, this “story” with Gur had to do with the very decision that Astarion once made as a magistrate, and that caused Gur to hate him. Cazador may well have sent him such a “message” as well, and Astarion thinks so. (“My old master sent that vagabond after me.”) He is confident that more thugs will come after him, and we learn with him much later (when we meet Gur in Act 3) that the Gur are looking for their children.

“A Selunite necklace, if I'm any judge. And I am.” - Astarion's banter when finding the Selunite Necklace. Another reference to his past. Doing Wyll's quest (to find Ansur) you can get Astarion's opinion as a judge when we solve the “punishing the thief” puzzle.

In Astarion Origins, during his conversation with Wyll, Astarion also tells Wyll about his past as a magistrate (“I was a magistrate once, I could see if you missed any loopholes in your contract.”), offering to help Wyll find some loopholes in his contract with Mizora.

By the way, this shows that Astarion's legal experience did not disappear anywhere and remained with him. And Astarion had definitely studied the terms of the deal with Mephistopheles regarding the Ascension ritual, which was so important to him (Raphael's tale, the description of the ritual in The Necromancy of Thay, the Vellioth's scrolls - he had three sources of information during this time), and he knew exactly what he was doing. Those who claim that “Astarion found out about the ritual five minutes before it started”, or that Astarion is a silly scared kid, who just this second suddenly decided to do the ritual out of fear, simply don't know the game's plot well.

Final of the Sun King (Astarion Origins). Narrator's line:

“It’s been a long time since you’ve stood in judgement over others, holding their lives in your hands. But after everything you’ve done, doesn’t this feel right?”

In this finale, Astarion seems to reclaim his past self, only becoming much stronger, more powerful, and more majestic… His story began as a magistrate, he aspired to the top, fell, went through hell, broke free, took revenge, and rose again, only now to a much higher peak. This looks like the fulfillment of his wishes and the victorious conclusion of his story. And Ascended Astarion in the epilogue also says, ��I'm who I always wanted to be. I have everything I ever wanted.”

In Astarion's Character Sheets, his backstory is told as follows:

“Astarion prowled the night as a vampire spawn for centuries, forced to follow the orders of his sadistic Master, Cazador: Seduce every fool with a pulse, and lure them back to my lair. Free for now, he will do anything to keep his life in the light. He can see but one way to ensure his liberty for good: become many times more powerful than his old abuser even could dream of being.

His body is forever tainted by the intricate, patterned scarring Cazador carved upon his back, and the elder vampire seems set on sending waves of hunters seeking to capture his lost spawn.”

Personal Traits:

“Astarion drips with charm before everyone he meets. How much of it is an act, even he himself isn’t sure of any more”.

Ideals:

“Freedom almost tastes finer than blood, and Astarion will do everything he can to secure it”.

Flaws:

“While he has hoiled seduction down to a fine art, and can quickly win over almost anyone, keeping and trusting a new-found ally is another challenge altogether”.

Sure, I would have liked to see more of Astarion's backstory revealed within the game, but that's not going to be realized. For me, as a fan of this game, the biggest regret was the Astarion scenes from EA, which were made and were in EA, but they were not included in the game after release, now you can only see some of Astarion's banters from those scenes. For example, Astarion's nightmare can now only be seen in his Origin, and in EA we could talk to him about it. In those scenes Astarion was revealing himself wonderfully, he was bright, expressive and very emotional. But, fortunately, the authors of youtube channels, who went through the game in EA, saved his scenes, and we can still admire Astarion in them and have a deeper look at his character.

Astarion about the "little death" (Early Access patch 4):

youtube

“Astarion often uttered the phrase "Little death" and I started looking for information about this expression and I came across a quote in which for me it is still the essence of the relationship with him.

The French expression for orgasm, la petite mort ("little death"), implies an orgasmic loss of oneself that destroys the pain of separateness — the lonely Self disappears into the resulting We." © AlexKhodja (channel Arts&Games).

Also, the “little death” scene complements Astarion's line at the Tiefling party: “Not at all! I was hoping for companionship and - well, maybe a little death. Figuratively speaking.”

“Who needs morals when you have good hair?” (Astarion and Gale monster hunter conversation):

youtube

Astarion's comment on Goblin Sazza:

youtube

Astarion doesn't suffer weak minded fools - (Patch 4) Fisherman Conversation:

youtube

"Sweetie, you can't murder 'vermin'":

youtube

Astarion wants to stay and party with the goblins! - Patch 4 Baldur's Gate 3 Early Access:

youtube

I managed to catch a shot of Astarion looking frustrated at having to search for some druid instead of having fun at the party:

And then those satisfied, sly eyes:

Astarion about slaves of myconids [Baldur's Gate 3] [Early Access] [Patch 5]:

youtube

Astarion Comments on Mayrina's Situation (Astarion just has an adorable laugh in this scene):

youtube

A collection of Astarion's heavy emotional reactions - when he's angry or scared, but it's so strong, it's just impossible to watch indifferently:

youtube

It's heart wrenching and makes me want to comfort him as soon as possible, but it's such a strong and impressive range of emotions that it just knocks you off your feet. It's hard to understand why most of these dialog lines were removed in the release version. Neil played incredibly well, Astarion is so alive that watching these scenes you feel fear, when you see his fear, and pain for him, when you see his pure rage. When Tav insults Astarion, he responds (2.51): “There has to be a way you know what, separates us from animals, - choice. I choose to travel with you, a dog would do it on instant to fulfill, a need. Disrespect me again and I won't choose to kill you. I'll do it on instinct to fulfill my need to hear you scream”. And what a huge contrast to that practically devastated, emotionally repressed Astarion, who on the “path of redemption” in the graveyard scene dutifully accepts insults from his “partner,” replying, “I will endeavor to please” or “If it has, it might be for the best” with his head down.

Astarion was a deeply traumatized person, but he was strong, and he knew how to snap back. And he could bite. He was not one to give up easily. And it was all the more valuable to earn his trust and the opportunity for Tav to become a close person to him. It's a pity, if Larian decided to “soften” such a magnificently evil character by not including his strong and vivid emotional reactions in the release version. It would have been much better, in my opinion, to reveal his softer side by enriching the roleplay and adding those lines and actions for Tav that would have helped Astarion feel better and start to trust Tav more, an emotional, multifaceted and complex character is a true diamond for any game, capable of making you fall in love and bond with him. Of course, they did a lot of good things in the release version too, in particular I really like Astarion's appearance in the game, all the little wrinkles on his face that make him even more alive and real.

I think Astarion's EA scenes are an important part of his story too, and thanks for having them. I'd certainly like to see a director's version or a gold edition that includes them, but it's unlikely to come true. These scenes added and deepened Astarion's character for me in many ways, and allowed me to understand him even better.

#Youtube #astarion #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion ancunin #astarion early access #astarion backstory #bg3 early access #bg3 #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 early access #bg3 ea

94 notes · View notes

klausysworld · 1 year ago

Note

Hiii I was wondering if you could write a klaus oneshot where the reader is enemies with klaus but klaus finds out she has cancer and is all alone and begins to fall in love with her or something like that.

I totally understand if you don’t want to do or you’re uncomfortable with it.

I’ve Got You

(This is on a very sensitive subject, please don’t read if it will upset you too much and know that if you are suffering or know someone who is, nobody is alone)

Cancer was something that had torn up Y/n’s life. It caused her to push people away all of the time. She didn’t want to be too close to anyone, not when the doctors couldn’t tell her how long she had left.

For a while they thought that the cancer had gone but she didn’t want to risk anything only for it to come back.

So she continued to be closed off, even from her own family.

Being Elena and Jeremy’s sister was hard enough, let alone growing up having cancer. Having two parents who were involved in medical care was both a dream and a nightmare. They made her live according to their timetable and their rules as to what would ‘help’. She knew, even as a child, that her family struggled much like any family would struggle to afford treatment and research and she hated herself for costing them so much.

She was kept separate from her siblings, built little to no bond with them. When her parents died, there was nobody to care for her or at least give her hope. She couldn’t afford hospital bills on her own, she had to seek out other family, like Uncle John and he did help however when he lost his life, she lost the chance of hers.

The people at the hospital knew Y/n well, they wanted to help best they could. She was supplied with medication in the form of pills to at least somewhat control the cancer and they had hope that she would be able to take part in a chemotherapy treatment program that would take place within the next year. That was as much hope as she could have to go on.

And she tried to hold onto that, she would imagine the day that they told her she would be able to live her life full without so much risk.

But at the same time, she didn’t really believe it would happen for her. Not anymore.

Sometimes she wished that a vampire would just kill her, out her out of her misery. Other times she wanted to survive everything her dreadful life threw at her and live a long healthy life to its fullest.

It was why she was so up and down with how she behaved. It was why the way she was around certain people changed so drastically, like Klaus.

Sometimes she wanted to see how many buttons she could push, she wanted to make him kill her so at least it wasn’t cancer that took her out. Other times, she just wish he’d disappear and leave both her and her family alone.

She would wonder if, had no vampires ever turned up to Mystic falls, if she would have been able to connect with her siblings some more, if Jenna would have given her some hope.

Those thoughts made her mad, but also sad. That’s when she would get snappy. Sometimes she didn’t mean to annoy him but she couldn’t help herself.

But unfortunately it made people dislike her which in some cases was a good thing because it meant people wouldn’t miss her if she did die but it also meant that she was even more alone.

Y/n was too young to deal with something so big, it was no surprise she didn’t know how to manage it. The problem was that nobody else knew how to either and so she was forced to try do it herself.

The medication she had been on since young caused an imbalance of hormones and had stunted her growth in areas. It made her hair thin and caused her to become feeble and delicate to an extent. Of course she tried her hardest to build up her strength but she wasn’t stupid, she knew it was much easier for her to become out of breath, to become exhausted or hurt. It was because of this that people like Damon would dismiss her and why she would be cast aside without any explanation. Not that she needed a reason, she already knew.

In some ways, she liked that Klaus didn’t know that she had cancer. He would be boisterous around her, tease and taunt her like he would anyone else. Because to him, she was like everyone else. She wasn’t a delicate little thing that needed to be avoided and fixed.

Sometimes he could go a little far, once he had her by the throat, cutting off her airways as he threatened her. He didn’t know that after he left she was spluttering blood all over the floor as she coughed and wheezed for air. She struggled for it anyway, she didn’t like someone taking it from her. But she never said anything to him, of course she was a little more cautious but she enjoyed pissing him off when she could.

When she was little, kids were cruel. If she wanted to play, they would give her funny looks and say they didn’t want to play with her. They acted like she was contagious, or an alien. She hated it.

So even if Klaus’s attention was ill intended, at least it was directed at her.

————————————————————————

Klaus originally saw her as another inconvenience. He met her when he was in Alarics body, when he went over to the Gilbert’s house to harass Jenna and frightened the others. Turns out their sister Y/n also hadn’t been clued in on who he really was. She had wondered down the stairs still in her pyjamas, smiling subtly at him and going to the cupboard to grab some biscuits. Once she had sat down and began munching, Stefan was storming in and telling her and Jenna to run. At that point Y/n just looked tired and begrudgingly got dragged out the house by a hysterical Jenna.

The next time was at a hospital after he had taken Elena from senior prank night. She was sat in the waiting room, lead across the seats as though she had been there hours. He came and sat beside her, spoke to her and told her to tell Damon to never threaten him again. She agreed without compulsion and kept her trap shut about anything else.

The following few times he saw her, she was less tired and more firey. That’s when he began to take a strange liking to her. She always had something to snap back at him no matter how dark the last thing he said was.

Somehow she seemed to know exactly how to make him tick. Knew how to tease him enough to make him want her to shut up but not enough to physically make her. Though occasionally she went too far and he would break.

Sometimes he felt a weird sensation of guilt swirling inside him, he never knew what to do about that. He didn’t enjoy that.

When she became tired, she was moody and would say things to purposely make him angry. And klaus’s anger management had never been great. He didn’t always mean to react to quick and harshly but he couldn’t help it. Especially when he didn’t understand why she was so angry sometimes.

He knew that she was very much seen as irrelevant when it came to her siblings and the Salvatore’s etc. He couldn’t understand why exactly, she was not less useful than Elena was as far as he could see. Still he didn’t ask or dig on it, it didn’t matter to him if she was apart of the little gang or not. She seemed to hang around him anyway.

He took an amount of joy in their playful banter and teasing nature when around each other. He also liked to push at her buttons the same way she did his. But he wasn’t as good at knowing how far he could go, often she would end up storming off and he’d be left feeling guilty and there’d frustrate which lead to annoyance and anger.

————————————————————————

Klaus hadn’t once guessed that the reason for her mood swings or her pushed to the side nature was due to cancer.

He hadn’t been expecting to see her name on labels of samples of blood.

He was in the hospital for blood obviously, even though he drank mostly straight from the vein, with all his hybrids and his busy schedule sometimes blood bag was easier.

He happened to come across the samples and spotted a familiar name. His curiosity peeked. Of course he originally guessed that it was just normal things like she had given blood or that she had low iron. But something within him told him to look further.

So he began to compel people to get him her files and information. But turns out he didn’t need to, as soon as he said her name the receptionist was yapping on.

“Oh the poor girl, in and out of here since she was just a toddler” she began, sighing and clicking for Y/n’s name on the computer.

“Really?” He questioned, his brows furrowed.

“Uhuh, next appointment is…oh! Tomorrow” she smiled and Klaus nodded pretending to know

“Right for..”

“Collection and a check up” she smiled and turned around to find something, a bag. She placed the paper back infront of him with contained the prescription pills that would control the cancer to some level. He smiled back at her though it didn’t reach his eyes and picked up the packet, reading what they were and what they did.

His heart dropped a little and he hesitantly handed them back to the receptionist. “Thank you, I’d take them to her but if she has a check up tomorrow anyway then I expect it’s easier if she get them herself” he muttered, his voice quiet as he felt a strange sadness forming somewhere inside him.

“Of course” the woman answered “Will you be with her tomorrow?” She asks with the tilt of her head.

“I might be” he replied, unsure and she nodded slightly back

“I’m sure she’d like it if you did, nobodies been with her for a scan for over a year now” she sighed and his heart ached.

He left shortly after and tried to find her. Eventually he found her, much to his surprise, at his house. She was sat on his sofa with a glass of wine and one of his hybrids, chatting about whatever. Without caring he made his way over and grabbed her by the arm.

“Klaus!” She yelped as he began to pull her away from the hybrid.

“He just wants to drain you love, come on upstairs” he murmured, pushing her up the stairs and grabbing the bottle of wine from the table.

“Well he might just be nice” she muttered

“Perhaps but I don’t like the odds” he replied as he pulled her into his room

“Right, because you care if he kills me” she grumbled and his stomach turned uncomfortably. No longer did the joking of her death amuse him like it once did.

When she noticed his silence and the look he had in his eyes, she knew that he knew. It was stupid look of pity that everyone had and that slightly uncomfortable stance because they don’t know how to act around her anymore.

She sighed and glanced to the floor and then him. “Can you not?” She whispered and he frowned confused

“Not what-“

“Oh don’t do that. I know you know. Its fine. I’ve had it forever you don’t have to be weird” she mumbled as she sat on his bed, laying back and staring up at the ceiling tiredly.

“I don’t know what-“

“Cancer Klaus. It’s not a scary word, it’s not Voldemort” she grumbled

“What-?” He questioned confused

“Doesn’t matter it’s not the point” she whispered and he frowned

“You never said anything about it” he muttered as he sat beside her.

“It’s not really the best conversation topic. Plus we’re not that close” she mumbled

“Well…you’re in my bed so I’ve done something right” he joked lightly and she smiled

“I guess so” she whispered.

Klaus laid down beside Y/n quietly. It was a little odd to be so close to her without either of them having ill intentions. He did feel bad though that he made her uncomfortable but he couldn’t help but act a little off. His mind had been replaying every time he had hurt her, he wondered how much it had endangered her life.

It confused him as to why he had this care for her. He couldn’t have cared less about week ago if she had been killed but knowing that she actually, most likely, would die much sooner than expected made him feel something. To know that she was living in pain and fear of when it would catch up to her.

Klaus was a man who liked control, he couldn’t imagine having something like cancer hanging over his life everyday acting as a threat ever time she breathed.

“So you-“

“I don’t wanna talk about it” she mumbled, cutting him off. He fell into silence and sighed softly.

Y/n stared at the ceiling, wishing it would fall on her in this moment. She hated that he knew. Of course she didn’t exactly hide it from him but she also didn’t want him to know. Not because it was something she was embarrassed of, or because she feared he would used it against her. Simply because it meant there was one more person who would look at her like she was incapable and weak. She didn’t want to be stared at like an animal at a zoo by anyone else.

She’d rather he be cruel to her and tell her how pathetic she was just for being a human. She’d rather he scare her and hurt her like he did everyone else in town than look at her like he was now.

She felt her eyes drain of the life that they usually held when around Klaus. With a lump forming in her throat and a heavy weight of disappointment on top of her, she pushed herself up and got off his bed.

“I’m gonna go home” she muttered, ignoring the way he sat up and looked after her with worry.

“Love-“ he called, standing up to follow her as she made her way down his stairs.

“I don’t want to talk, I want to go home” she huffed.

“Sweetheart-“

��Shut up Klaus” she snapped “stop calling me cute little names and looking at me like I’m a three-legged puppy! You don’t like me, I’m annoying and useless to you” she sighed, her voice becoming desperate and she hated how pathetic she sounded.

“You’re dying” he whispered

“Everyone’s dying” she mumbled “I’m just doing it faster” before leaving his house, closing the door behind her.

Klaus left her alone for a little while, and she avoided him also.

He did however go back to the hospital after she had her most recent scan. He compelled the surgeon to show he what was happening, where it was and what that meant. He wanted to know why she wasn’t getting more help, they told him there was very little chance of her surviving even with chemotherapy. Klaus argued they should still try and they informed him of the treatment trial coming up in two months time. Demands were made, he would pay for everything and they would tell her that she qualified to have it free. He didn’t really care what lie they told her just so long as she accepted it.

And she did, Klaus received a phone call telling him so.

Klaus still had no explanation for his sudden change of heart, why he wanted her to get better so badly. He didn’t know why, he just did.

He felt a little sad that she wouldn’t hang around him anymore. Not many people willingly spoke to him, even if it was just some teasing and playful banter. He missed it.

When she had her first dosage of chemo, he found himself in her hospital room. It upset him that nobody had come with her or shown any care at all.

Klaus quietly wondered through the hospital, it was halfway into the night and quiet as he searched for her room. His expression softened when he saw her curled up in a bed, the machine beside her beeping quietly. A singular rose was placed beside her bed as he pulled a chair over to her and leaned down to kiss her cheek softly. It was an odd gesture coming from the hybrid but he tried not to dwell on it as he sat beside her for a while.

Klaus came back during the night as her treatment continued, he would leave her a rose and often a note. He would never know how much it meant to her.

One night he ran his fingers through her hair, only for a handful of strands to come out with his hand. His eyes had enlarged as he quickly put it in the bin and gently lifted to her head to find a clump of hair on her pillow. He didn’t want her to find it in the morning and be upset and so removed it himself.

He didn’t mean to wake her up. She knew it was him without a doubt when she felt her face against someone’s chest. She could hear his soft muttering and the sound of his hand behind her head. It took her a minute to figure out what he was doing and when the realisation hit her she just stared at his chest exhausted. Y/n could remember when all her hair fell out the first time, when she was little and the other kids would poke fun while the parents would tell her how brave she was while staring at her with that helpless, pitiful face. She didn’t want to see it on Klaus’s face as well so she pretended to stay asleep.

After a moment he laid her back down and pulled the blanket back up. “There we go” he murmured softly as he smoothed it over “it’s all going to be just fine” he whispered, stroking her arm gently. She kept her eyes closed and her breathing steady until he left, she couldn’t stop the tears rolling after he was gone. She hated feeling sorry for herself all of the time but it seemed she could never catch a break.

It wasn’t long before she was back home, still on chemo but home. Jeremy was living in Denver and Elena basically lived at the Salvatores so Y/n had the house to herself. She didn’t go out much, she never really had. She only did recently to annoy Klaus but she didn’t want to be around him anymore either so she found that staying inside was better.

However Klaus had different ideas and so wound up on her doorstep, nocking incessantly until she answered.

“Finally love, you and me worried” he sighed and she narrowed her eyes

“What do you want?” She snapped, she was wrapped up in a blanket and wore a hat on her head. Klaud wasn’t sure if it was because she was cold or because she had given in and shaved her head.

“It’s lovely to see you too” he smiled sarcasticly and she glared. “I wanted to see how you were doing” he answered.

“I’m doing fine. How are you doing?” She replied stiffly

“Ah you know…family troubles” he mumbled and she hummed

“Elijah?” She question

“All of them” Klaus muttered “three brothers, a sister and a mother. I can only be glad I’ve already killed my father…though that didn’t stop mother”

Y/n let out a breathy laugh and glance down “I’ll grab my shoes and we’ll talk and walk.” She told him before closing the door. Klaus smiled to himself as he waited a second before she came out ready. She was completely wrapped up, hat gloves coat. Still he didn’t ask, just remained happy to be with her.

They spoke about the sudden arrival of his family and the ball. He said he hoped she would come but her silence wasn’t convincing.

“You don’t have to” he told her “I know you don’t like people and you barely like me enough” he smiled and she returned it weakly.

“I don’t really think it’s a good idea” she mumbled and he nodded, of course he was a little disappointed but he wasn’t exactly surprised either.

“Then perhaps you’ll have to give me a dance another time?” He offered and she shrugged playfully with a smile

“I might be able to come for just one dance, but I go home straight after?” She compromised and he grinned

“Perfect” he whispered and cupped her face. The smile soon vanished from his lips as he felt how hot her skin was to touch “you’re burning” he mumbled before unzipping her coat and pulling her hat off. Immediately she made a sound of upset and grabbed for the hat. His eyes softened as she stared at him with a mixture of emotions.

She wanted to die. That was it. She wanted the cancer to take her in that moment. Stupid Klaus. She wasn’t sure why having no hair made her feel so bad, she had a nice shaped head but her past experience with peoples reactions caused her to hate it.

“Put it back” she whimpered but he shook his head. His hands gently pulled her coat off and then her gloves.

“You have a fever, you’re boiling, I’m taking you home” he told her as he leant down and lifted her up. She looked at him like he was crazy, she didn’t understand what kind of bond they had or what feelings they held for eachother. She didn’t why he would like her of all people. Was it pity? She hoped not, she’d be so pissed off it was.

“Fevers are normal” she mumbled “you don’t gotta worry”

“Normal or not, it’s best we get rid of it so that it doesn’t hurt you” he answered as he carried her towards her house. She couldn’t help but smile a little when he said ‘we’. In a way it reminded her of how her parents would care her and tell her that it was something they would all get through.

He felt her relax a little in his hold and glanced down to see her looking up at him with a lost look in her eye as he approached her door.

“I can’t come in but I trust that you’ll know how to cool off? I can take you to my house otherwise” he told her as he placed her down and passed her things back to her as she got inside.

“I’ll be fine, thank you” she told him with a small smile before closing the door.

Later that day she received a package containing a dress, shoes that matched and a silver necklace with her birthstone hanging from it. She smiled a little and put it somewhere safe ready for the next evening.

Then she continued to settle her fever and take a nap. She woke back up, watched a few films, messaged Klaus to let him know she was okay now, and finally took her meds when she ate her dinner before going to sleep.

In the morning she continued her everyday routine and lounging around until it was only a couple hours before the ball that the mikaelsons were throwing. She had argued with herself all day whether she should go. She knew people would talk, seeing the cancer kid with Klaus Mikaelson. Not that it was date. No no. That would be weird…

Eventually she decided she would go, dance the first dance and then go home. She just hoped that the exhaustion wouldn’t hit her too hard while she was out or that she wouldn’t fall sick until she got back home.

Y/n never got to go to events like Elena and Jeremy did when she was little, but her mother would dress her up when she was in the house sometimes to make her feel happy and pretty for a day. That was the only way she knew what she was doing when it came to her face. She had stolen some from Elena’s room as she only had the basics for herself.

She put on everything he had given her and looked in the mirror. Her hands touched her head with a small sigh before she called a cab that took her to the mansion.

She stood outside it for a few minutes, unsure whether she should just turn around and walk in. Klaud didn’t give her that option when he came wondering outside, his eyes looking around for her hopefully. She smiled a little to herself and began to walk towards him, his gaze met hers halfway and he quickly flashed beside her.

“You came” he whispered, pulling her in for an unexpected hug. He pulled back and cleared his throat “sorry” he muttered awkwardly before grabbing her hand and leading her inside. “You look gorgeous by the way, you always look gorgeous but…not that- “

“Thank you” she cut him off with a smile and squeezed his hand in appreciation. “Am I late? I didn’t mean to stand there for so long” she asked quietly, glancing around and seeing the entire town moving around his home.

“It’s okay, the first dance only just started” he told her, leading her further inside.

“I never really learned to dance” she whispered nervously

“That’s alright” he murmured “I’ve got you” he told her and she believed him.

She let him guide her throughout the dance, she kept her eyes on him and tried to ignore any stares. Klaus kept her close and offered a death glare to anyone who even glanced their way. Time flew, they danced for nearly six full songs before he felt her body go momentarily limp to his. Thankfully his arm was around her waist already so he kept her up. She regained her balance in seconds but it was clear that something was wrong.

“I’m going to take you upstairs, alright love?” He murmured to her but she shook her head

“I can’t do the stairs…I’m dizzy” she whispered and he nodded

“I know, I didn’t expect you to walk up them” he told her before gently tugging her away from the people. They walked straight past Elijah and Elena talking, both turned to face them with looked of confusion and surprise as Klaus told her to let him help her. He kept upright so that nobody would know she was being carried as he supported her weight up each step. Once at the top they walked past Finn and Esther, his mother eyed the girl with that same pity as most and shook her head at Finn in a way that told him to leave them alone as Klaus lead her into his room carefully.

He laid her down on his bed, propping her up with pillows and cupping her face gently. Her eyes focused on his as his cool hands soothed her skin.

“You feel okay love?” He asked softly

“Yeah I’m ok” she nodded as her head began to settle. She felt a little nauseous but less faint. “I should go home” she mumbled, pushing herself up but he shook his head and laid her back down.

“Stay here tonight love, I’ll look after you” he told her

“Can’t, gotta have my meds” she muttered and he nodded

“I’ll go get them okay? You stay in here, find a shirt of mine to wear to bed and I’ll go get your pills.” He decided, standing up

“Klaus…you’re not invited in” she whispered and he sighed

“Then I’ll go to the hospital and get some, I know what you need”

“It’s easier if I go home” she argued

“I want you here” he told her seriously and with a sigh she nodded.He nodded in return and stroked her face, and her smooth head gently. “You can wear whatever you like okay?” He smiled and she nodded, watching as he left.

Klaus quickly made his way out the room, rushing down the stairs and out the house. Stopping for only a second to tell Elijah to keep people downstairs.

Once he was back from the hospital with her medication she was wrapped in his duvet, dressed in his shirt and her panties with no makeup left on her face while scrolling through Netflix on his TV. He smiled at the sight and close the door behind him with a click. Her head lifted to see him and he made his way over with the bottle in one hand and a glass of water in the other.

“Thank you Klaus” she whispered gratefully as she swallowed a pill before handing back the glass which he placed on a coaster on his bedside table.

He grabbed a shirt and some plaid pants before disappearing into his conjoined bathroom. He remerged from the room in a couple minutes ready for sleep. He had a sofa in his room, a mini fridge and everything. Y/n wandered if he ever actually had to leave his room.

Klaus opened a cabinet filled with blankets and pillows and pulled a couple out and setting up a bed on the couch making Y/n frown a little, guilt and confusion swirling.

“You done have to sleep there” she told him “You could sleep here if you want…or I could go on the sofa, I don’t mind” she offered, slipping out of the bed and making her way to the couch but he spun her straight back around and lead her back to bed.

“Under no circumstances will you not be in that bed” he told her, a level of authority in his tone as he put her to bed. “I don’t want to disturb your sleep by stealing half the bed” he teased.

“No it’s okay, I like sharing” she smiled and he raised a brow as he sat down infront of her.

“Oh? Do you share beds often?” He teased with narrowed eyes. Klaus didn’t like the thought of Y/n sleeping with anyone but himself. Even if it was just a nap.

“No” she whispered, her cheeks bushing pink “sometimes when I was sick my mom would sleep with me” she shrugged and he smiled.

“I doubt I’ll be anything like your mother sweetheart” he chuckled and she rolled her eyes

“Oh just come lay down, you know that’s not-“

“I know, I know” he murmured playfully as he laid beside her. She huffed out a breath dramatically and he grinned, pulling her against him. It was strange to be so close to him, teasing and laughing again. She liked it though, and so did he.

Klaus shifted himself under the duvet and pulled it around them. He hadn’t had a girl in his bed for a while, especially the past few months. All he could think of was her so why would he want some other woman? It had been even longer since he had a girl in his bed with no expectations of sex. That hadn’t happened in decades.

Something about it was nice, innocent.

Y/n on the other hand had never shared a bed with a man, never been touched or ever really thought that a guy would want to touch her. She didn’t think Klaus would either, especially not when she looked like she did. She’d lost a lot of weight from the chemo, her stamina was low, she bruised easy and she had no hair which threw most boys off. Boys her own age at least. Not Klaus.

He couldn’t have cared less about something so simplistic. Sure, she had pretty hair at one point but it didn’t define her. He liked her as she was, of course he wanted her to be cancer free and happy but he’d still love her while she wasn’t.

Love. Was it too strong of a word? He wasn’t sure.

Especially not when he was looking at her like he was now. Seeing her so openly vulnerable and curled up against him, sleepy eyes set on the tv and her body hidden under the quilt though he could feel her legs touching his.

It wasn’t long before they were snuggled up and half asleep. She was barely conscious when Elijah’s head popped into the room to check on Niklaus. The brothers had a brief conversation on how the night went, Elijah expressed his caution around their mother Klaus said he couldn’t be bothered with it anymore. Elijah left when Y/n began to stir and Klaus’s focus became her.

He slept with her throughout the night, he woke to find her missing and his heart sank. Thankfully she wondered back in from the bathroom a few minutes later and crawled back to bed with a yawn. Klaus’s lips upturned and he pulled her close again. She looked up at him with a small smile which grew when their eyes met.

“Hi” she whispered and he smiled

“Hi” he uttered back, pulling her as close to his side as he could before she was under him. She glanced to the time, seeing it was still really early. She groaned softly and closed her eyes. Klaus hummed softly and brushed the backs of his fingers across her cheek bones softly. “You look so pretty” he whispered.

Her cheeks tinted red and she rolled onto her side to hide her face from him but it only resulted in him spooning her. He kissed the back of her head making her go redder and her fingers to hold onto the sheets beneath. Klaus pressed close to her, too close. The second she felt something hard against her backside her body went tense and she panicked. Klaus felt her fear and quickly pulled himself away from her but she was already getting out of bed.

“I have to go, I’m sorry” she whispered, heading for the door but he sped infront of her.

“Love-“

“I gotta go”

“Let me drive you, and at least give you something to wear” he mumbled, disappointed with himself for scaring her. She nodded when she realised she was still in just her underwear and his shirt. He sped into Rebekah’s room which was unsurprisingly empty as she had ended up staying the night in Damon Salvatores bed.

He came back and she pulled the jeans on before he drove her home. It was quiet and he hated that he’d ruined the night. He should have thought about it and known she wouldn’t want that, he hadn’t intended to do anything other than sleep but she was so close and he couldn’t help but want. His desire always won though in this case it made him lose big time.

He apologised quietly when she got out the car and she told him it was okay and that she overreacted. Neither of them were particularly pleased with how they responded.

Y/n thought about how the moment could have played out a hundred times over and kicked herself for not just letting him have her. But she knew she would have regretted it.

They both decided to pretend the incident didn’t happen when they saw eachother next. Klaus had turned up on her doorstep that same night, it was clear he had been crying but she mention it. She wrapped her arms around him as he told her that his family had left again and that his mother wanted him dead. She ended up back in his bed, using his chest as a pillow once more.

In fact she ended up in his house, his bed a lot. Especially as her chemo treatment continued, when she wasn’t in hospital he managed to coax her to his house.

“I enjoy our sleepovers” he teased making her bite back a smile and glare playfully.

“Technically you don’t even need sleep” she reminded and he rolled his eyes.

“Well I like sleeping with you” he murmured with a wink and she laughed.

For a little while, things seemed to be getting better. She felt happier and somewhat healthier. She was more confident in herself when Klaus was around, he helped her see her beauty and her worth. For a moment she truly believed that everything would be better.

But things could never just be so simple.

At the end of her chemotherapeutic treatment, she went into the hospital as expected. Klaus didn’t go with her this time, Y/n had told him that the appointment wasn’t for another week because she wanted good news as a surprise.

How she wished it was good news.

She knew as soon as she saw the nurses face. When she told her that the treatment hadn’t worked the way they hoped, she just nodded and asked how much she owed. They shook their heads and reminded her that it was ‘free’ and she went home.

All this had done was just confirm that she wouldn’t live even half of what everyone else would. A quarter if she was lucky.

Vampire blood couldn’t save her, magic couldn’t save her. She just had to accept it and live with it for however long.

That wasn’t even the hard part for her, the hard part was telling Klaus.

After her appointment she went back to his home. He wasn’t in but she went up to his room anyway, besides it was basically her soon now too.

She stared at the bed, god she loved that bed. It was like a cloud and when she had Klaus holding her tight aswell? She only hoped heaven would be similar.

She tapped her fingers against her arm as she thought. With a sigh she went and had a shower, got back out and stared at herself in the full length mirror that Klaus had in his bathroom for whatever reason. She smiled and laughed through her nose at the thought.

Y/n had a lot of clothes at Klaus’s now, she pulled on one of the only actual sets of underwear she owned and sat down on the bed. She adjusted the straps on her bra for a few minutes and fiddled with her panties so they sat how she wanted them to.

Klaus was home shortly after and made his way upstairs to his room. His breath got caught in his throat the second he saw her.

They teased eachother and made little jokes about sex, they both entertained the idea in their heads but he never actually thought she would be the one to make the move.

He didn’t know what the final push was that made her give in but he wouldn’t push it away.

Within seconds he was on that bed, gently pushing her down onto her back and hovering over her. His lips met hers in a deep passion that heated them both. Her legs were nudged apart so he could lay between them. She kissed him back with as much love as should had in an effort to make him understand how much he meant to her.

His hands stroked up her sides gently, holding her waist perfectly. His mouth pressed to hers repeatedly before moving down to her neck. Y/n’s eyes kept shut as she felt the soft tingle of every touch, her hands slid down and unbuckled his belt. She pulled it through the loops with a tug and pushed it aside.

Klaus pulled back and looked down at her hands, he gently took them in his hands and lifted them to his lips, kissing the backs of them. “We don’t need to rush, we have all the time in the world” he whispered, the words made her eyes prick with tears but she held them back.

“I know…I just need you now” she told him quietly making him smile. He leant back down and kissed from her collarbone down. Y/n watched as goosebumps lined her skin and his hands slid her panties down her legs slowly so that she had the option to stop him.

He pressed soft kisses to her knees and then up along her thighs. His hands caressed her legs gently as he pressed an open mouthed kiss to her pussy. Y/n’s body jerked away from his mouth at the unfamiliar feeling and he smiled.

“It’s alright love, I’ve got you” he told her before running his tongue through her folds and up to her clit. Her legs went over his shoulder as her hands went to his hair, feeling the soft curls as her body filled with heat. Klaus rest his head against one of her thighs so he could look up at her as his tongue flicked gently at her little button. Her brows pulled together and a soft sound escaped her as she felt his teasing.

“Klaus” she whispered softly, a slightly tremble in her voice as his fingers made their way up and gently traced her pussy lips. He hummed quietly in response, letting the gentle vibrations tickle her nerves pleasantly. The words ‘I love you’ were on the tip of her tongue but she didn’t utter them, not yet. She worried that he would want to know why she chose now to tell him, why now to give herself to him. And if he did find out why, everything would be ruined.

A shaky breath left her and she put her focus back on him. She pulled at his soft hair gently, telling him to give her more and he eagerly obliged. He slipped a finger into her halfway, moving it slowly to help ease the foreign feeling upon her. His tongue still licked at her clit, though now with a little more pressure.

Her back arched a little and a breathy moan left her lips making him push his finger in so it was knuckle deep before pulling it out with a slight curve. He watched her tighten around nothing as her hips rolled a little to try get his touch back inside her.

“Do you like how it feels love?” He murmured with a kiss to her clit. She nodded and pulled at his curls gently.

“I do” she whispered “I love it” she confirmed and he smirked a little.

“I love it too” he smiled and sucked her clit into his mouth making her squirm and moan his name. She inhaled deeply and leant her head back against the pillows and two fingers began to stretch her open as they pushed in as far as they could’ve.

She took soft but long breaths as her body filled with heat and her hips ground her pussy against his fingers as they curled into her and found her spot. Her back curved off the bed and he smiled to himself, happy to bring her pleasure.

His fingers met the thrusts of her hips and his tongue lay flat against her clit, letting her rub against it as quick as she needed. A soft cry left her and her pussy squeezed his fingers tightly, her thighs squished his head making him chuckle and suck on her softly. He pulled away before she could come undone and pulled her down the bed so her legs were at his hips instead.

He leant down to kiss her lips making her wrinkle her nose and dodge him.

“Sweetheart, you can’t deny my kisses now” he murmured as she wriggled.

“You can’t kiss me after that” she whined and he laughed

“You taste lovely” he teased

“I’m good not knowing” she laughed and he narrowed his eyes before attacking her with kisses all over her face making her squeal and push at his chest playfully. Eventually he caught her lips and had her succumb to the kiss. A soft moan escaped her and he smiled.

“Can I keep going love?” He asked softly as he used one of his hands to undo his jeans. She nodded kissed his jaw softly, her eyes fluttering as she felt his bare legs against hers. Her body tensed for a moment as his cock rest against her thigh and her hand gripped his shoulder. “I’ll be slow” he whispered, “don’t worry Y/n”.

She nodded again and tightened her legs round his waist. Klaus cupped the back of her head with one hand while the other guided his tip into her weeping hole. She whimpered at the stretch and he kissed her cheek, holding her close.

She nuzzled close and clung to him as he pushed another two inches into her and gently rocked in and out of her, getting another inch into her with each thrust until eventually she took all of him. He stayed they for a while, stroking away the little tears that gathered in the corners of her eyes and kissing her lips softly.

“It’s okay love” he told her gently, “you know I’ve got you”

She nodded weakly and kept her face in the crook of his neck as he began to move again. Soft little moans slipped past her lips and vibrated against his throat as he thrust into her slowly. His hips moved perfectly to stroke all the right places inside her.

Y/n’s hands held onto him tightly, so did her pussy.

Klaus kissed her skin gently as he rocked into her, his hand slid down between their bodies and he began to stroke her swollen clit. She let out a little cry and he grunted as his cock was squeezed.

“You’re doing so good sweetheart” he murmured as he began to speed up. His eyes closed as he focused on pleasing her body, he could hear the repeated sound of his skin meeting hers along with the whimpers that tumbled past her mouth. He could feel her body growing tired and knew she wouldn’t be able to go on much more. He stroked her skin soothingly while his other hand rubbed quick circles on her pretty clit.

Her body tensed and she cried his name as her body let go around his. Klaus hugged her close as he thrust into her slowly, his hips came to a stop and she panted softly for air. He kissed her lips softly and pulled out. His hand stroked his cock quickly and he squeezed it tightly until he came onto her stomach. She moaned softly and tugged at him for a kiss.

His lips pressed to hers lovingly and rolled onto his back, pulling her ontop of him. Y/n smiled down at him and caressed his chest gently.

“I love you” she whispered and his heart warmed even more

“I love you too” he told her, wrapping his arms around her waist and sitting up. He stood up with her in his arms and carried her to the bathroom. He turned the shower on and brought them both under the warm water.

“I can stand” she mumbled and he hummed but didn’t put her down. Instead he kept ahold of her as he helped clean them both off. She leant against him, her head in his neck as he wrapped a towel big enough to be a double duvet. He kissed her head and dried them off before setting her back on his bed. He pulled one of his shirts over her head and pulled some panties up her legs. “Thank you” Y/n whispered with a smile.

“Of course” he smiled back and laid beside her in his sleep pants. Klaus held her to him, his lips pulled up in contentment and he closed his eyes. He held her close they slept and woke up early to prepare breakfast.

Klaus wanted this relationship to be right. He wanted to treat her like he knew he could and show that he meant his love for her. So he went downstairs and cooked up some pancakes and bacon for his girl. He plated it up and poured them both drinks, he set the table for them and made his way back upstairs.

His movements faltered for a moment as he heard the sound of gagging. Hurriedly he made his way to the bathroom to see her heaving over the toilet. Quickly he kneeled beside her and caressed her back, her hand reached for tissue as she wiped her mouth, dumping the tissue ontop of her sock and flushing the toilet. He helped her up and wrapped his arms around her waits from behind as she brushed her teeth. She apologised quietly but he shook his head and kissed her cheek.

“I got you something love” he told Y/n softly before leading her downstairs. She looked up at him with a soft look in her eyes as he pulled out her seat at the table. She sat down and smiled as he pushed her in and sat opposite her with his food also.

“You know you didn’t have to?” She whispered softly and Klaus hummed

“Of course I did” he answered “I’ll always look after you”

Y/n’s smile wavered a little but she pulled back together. They ate their food and she helped him clean up. After they got dressed and he started to talk. When Klaus starts talking he doesn’t tend to stop until he absolutely has to.

Usually Y/n didn’t mind his rants and rambles but this time it was about them. He started going on about all the things they could do together and how once her cancer was gone then they would go wherever she wanted and he went on and on. After a while however, Y/n just couldn’t help it.

Her eyes had been watering for a full twenty minutes and as soon as the first tear fell, well it was like a waterfall. Klaus’s face dropped within seconds and his heart sunk. Panic flooded him and he quickly pulled her into his lap. He tried to calm her but had no idea what was wrong to begin with. Well not at first.

She tried to leave, push him away like she knew she should have at the start. He wouldn’t let her though. Not now. He had to block the exit, ended up yelling for her to tell him what was wrong. Instead of an actual answer she told him that she didn’t want to be with him, she began to say hurtful things. She needed him to not love her. Not if there was no hope of living. She didn’t want to leave him missing her, she would rather he hated her and was glad she was gone. Or at least that’s how she thought in that moment.

Klaus was never good when it came to emotions. He didn’t understand the sudden change of heart, the hatred that suddenly blossomed. But he knew something was wrong, she didn’t look angry or disgusted by him like she tried to claim she was. She just looked scared and borderline devastated.

He stared at her for a while and she didn’t dare say anything else. Klaud didn’t want to believe it to begin with. But it was the only thing that made sense. With slight hesitation he stepped to her, he overpowered her shoving hands and forced her into a hug. It only took a moment for her to collapse into it, cries shaking through her without a break.

“I’m gonna take you everywhere” he mumbled softly, kissing her smooth head continuously. She made a sound of distress and she shushed her gently “anywhere you want sweetheart. It doesn’t matter how long we have, I will not have you live it alone and in self-pity” he argued and she shook.

He picked her up and sat down with her on the sofa, he grabbed a world map and brought it over to her. “Come on love, you choose somewhere and I’ll get us in a plane, have you ever flown?” He asked, swallowing any tears or sadness down. Right now he just needed to keep her with him. He would go anywhere, do anything to ensure that she was happy for however long she had to live.

“We can’t just-“

“Yes we can. We will. We don’t even have to pack, I’ll buy you everything new from wherever we go. Just pick a continent, we’ll do a country from each and see how you’re feeling before we go again” he whispered, desperation seeping into his tone.

“You’re making it worse for yourself” she uttered, wiping her tears.

“It’ll be a hundred times worse if I’m not with you” he argued, a tear dropping from his lashes.

They both went quiet and let the situation fully dawn on them for a little while. Finally Y/n glanced to the map. “I’ve always heard Europe was pretty” she mused quietly and Klaus wiped his eyes, pulling a smile onto his face as he pulled her close and kissed the side of her head.

“It’s beautiful. I’ll call for a private jet and we shall leave in a few hours. Would you like to tell your family that you’ll be away?” He asked but she shook her head no. “Then please, just trust me my love?”

“I do…and I’m sorry for-“

“Don’t be. Just know that I love you and that I will always have you no matter what” he told her, a kiss to her lips to seal the promise.

“I love you” she uttered, they repeated it back to one another as she made her way into his lap and rest her face in his neck.

Everything else was forgotten.

The doppelgänger, hybrids, Salvatore’s, Mikaelsons. They would all have to wait.

1K notes · View notes