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crashdevlin · 11 months
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Permission Granted 1- New Girl
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Author’s Note: This is the first chapter of Permission Granted, the first part of To Have it All. This is Open...from Jensen's side!
Summary: Jensen meets Y/n, the new guest star on Supernatural. There's an instant connection, but a dozen reasons not to pursue it. 
Pairing: none yet, eventual Jensen x Reader
Word count: 4354
Story Warnings: none really, little bit of Y/n's shitty self esteem peeking through
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"They're replacing Ruthie quick, aren’t they?" I commented to Jared as I read over Dabb's email in the Hair and Makeup trailer. "Wonder why they didn't just bring Rowena back."
"Fresh face, probably. I dunno. You know Dabb's always looking for new female characters to kill off." Jared shrugged and took a drink of his froufrou iced latte.
"Oh, if we're lucky, maybe she'll be a lesbian so they can leave her broken in a bathtub," I said, rolling my eyes as they started blow drying Jared's hair.
"Or a fuckin’ love interest so they can kill her off in two episodes," he shouted over the sound of the dryer.
"Shoshanna got more than two."
"Barely, Ackles! She got two and then forty-five seconds of a death scene!”
I nodded and licked my lips. Yeah, they had to kill her off. Every fuckin’ time. “Well, maybe this one won’t go the same direction.”
I settled back and read over the rest of the email. Damn it. They’ve got Dean on the ‘Kill Jack despite the fact that the kid hasn’t done anything wrong’ track. Of course they do. Have they ever watched the show? Whatever.
It was a couple days later that I was sitting in the makeup chair and a short woman walked up the steps and stopped in her tracks. She's not the first guest to freeze when they see me the first time but she was definitely the cutest doing it. I didn’t call attention to her 'deer in the headlights' thing as she stood in the doorway, clearly debating leaving until she looked at her phone screen and determined that she had to stay.
She had to get herself comfortable with me somehow. As fun as it can be to tease the new girl, professionalism is the best way forward for most of these situations. I determined to tease her when she got a little more comfortable.
She sat down in the stylist’s chair and looked down at her phone, obviously trying to distract herself with something more than Jennifer doing her hair. It was pretty adorable. She was pretty adorable. But...I had to start the task of getting her okay.
“You must be our new witch,” I said. She made a little squeaky noise and I could see her eyes glaze over a little in the mirror. “I’m Jensen.” Normally, I would have offered my hand but we weren’t in the position for that.
“I know that,” she whispered, making me chuckle as she cleared her throat and turned a little to look at me as much as she could. “I’m Y/n. Big fan.”
“Yeah?”
“Yep. Uh, I used to watch Days with my mom, but I think I became a real fan with Smart Alec on Dark Angel,” she said and I smiled. Eric Brady and Alec McDowell. Two amazing characters. I really liked Alec. Jessica could’ve been less of a prima donna but I guess she could’ve been worse, too.
“That feels like a million years ago. That show was badass, though,” I mused. “Fox shoulda kept it longer.”
“Agreed,” she said, smiling all shy. She looked so fucking nervous, so I had to move the conversation along.
“So...fan of mine...have you seen much of this show or are we gonna have to give you context for scenes?” I teased. She seemed to relax a little, slumping in her chair.
“Might’ve been a fan of you longer, but I love the show. Seen almost every episode.”
Better than me. I haven’t seen half of ‘em. “Almost every episode? What kinda fan are you?”
“Do not question my nerd cred, sir,” she sassed me. “I’m a fan, big time. I even went to a Creation Con late last year, just to see you guys up close.”
I laughed a little at that. The cons are great, but I really don’t think we’re worth all that money just to see us in person. “Yeah? Gold?” I had to figure out how devoted a fan she actually was. It would determine my interaction moving forward.
“Silver. I was working retail at the time,” she responded, shaking her head a little. “Couldn’t reconcile dropping a thousand dollars on a vacation.”
I was happy to hear that she kept her crazy to reasonable levels. “Oh, so we met in the autograph line.”
“Yep,” she said, popping that ‘p’ like vocal directors hate so much and looking away from me in the mirror.
There was obviously a story there, so I pressed her. “What’d I sign for you?”
“A hat. A white hat...with a devil’s trap in the middle and SW and DW on opposite sides.”
Crazy as it is, I remembered the hat, but the conventions all blur together so I couldn’t tell where I met her. “Which con was this?” I asked.
“Atlanta,” she answered quickly.
A one-off con. That helped, because I only had one night of memories to sift through. White hat, shaking young woman who could barely speak to me and definitely couldn’t look me in the eyes. I remember my handler getting up after she walked away, came back a minute later to say that Y/n had almost passed out as soon as she got outside the curtain. “Oh, yeah, I remember. I tried to sign Jared’s side but you wouldn’t let me.”
Y/n turned to look at me, obviously shocked with those pretty eyes all wide. “You were doing it on purpose? I thought you were just tired and not paying attention.”
“Nah, I was exhausted in Atlanta, but you looked mortified. I was trying to make you laugh.” Obviously failed on that. I chuckled again as Jennifer started curling her hair. “You seem a lot more put together now.”
She scoffed and rolled her eyes just a bit. “I’m mortified now too, but I saw you and Jared were gonna be on Lot today so I took an Ativan before I got in the car this morning.” Always nice when people are honest and open about their anxiety problems.
“Well, that’s good. Take a double dose tomorrow,” I teased as Trisha pulled the makeup drop cloth and I stood, looking down at her as panic crossed her face.
“What? Why?” she squeaked.
I could tell she hadn’t been given the pages for our scene the next day. I couldn’t resist a little torture. I just laughed as I left the trailer. “You’ll see when you get tomorrow’s pages.” I met Jared on the Bunker set and he patted my shoulder as we walked up into the library. “First meeting with the new girl went well. She seems a little out of her element but nice overall.”
“Oh, uh, Y/n?”
“Yeah, she is a fan, actually. We met her at the Atlanta convention. She had that Devil’s Trap hat.” Jared shook his head. He didn’t remember her. “She’s the one that tripped or whatever right after I signed her hat.”
“Oh, the one that fuckin’ fainted?”
“Yeah, I think so. She’s still uncomfortable so we’ll have to warm her up.”
“‘Warm her up’, huh?” Jared raised his eyebrows suggestively and I laughed.
“Not like that, you dummy.”
Of course, Y/n was cute, but messing around with the guest stars was a bit of a no-no, and messing with fans was a big no-no. Especially considering that there’s almost nothing to keep a fan from talking...and the open marriage thing needed to stay quiet.
But I was curious about her. Can’t lie about that. So, I asked around. I went to a few other crew members before I went to Andrew Dabb.
“You remember that casting call we did toward the end of eleven? We got a few of the British Men of Letters off of it?” He leaned back in his chair and looked up at me. “We opened it up for a few folks without representation for a couple weeks. CW didn’t advertise it but we did a post on a few acting sites and there was a bit of circulation once the fandom got a hold of it. She sent a video in. She wasn’t right for the Brits, not posh enough, but her accents were good and she was a pretty great actress, so...”
“So, she isn’t an actor?”
“She’s been doing pretty well for the fact that she hasn’t acted in anything before.”
I blinked at him a few times. “Wow. So, she’s completely green?”
“Technically, yeah. But the second unit directors say she’s doing good.”
“Cool. Thanks.” I started to leave but stopped at the door. “So, what’s the track on her character? She stickin’ around?”
“She’s on for five episodes.”
“Is she going to bite it after those episodes?” I pushed.
“We’re not exactly-”
“Is she a love interest? Is she gonna disappear without a trace? Will she at least get an actual storyline?”
Andrew rolled his eyes at me and shifted in his chair. “I don’t know if she’s going to be a love interest. The writers’ room is in disagreement about that. She’d be a good match for Dean, but we’re not sure how the viewers would react. They never really like it when Dean and Sam have women in their lives.”
“So, you don’t even know. Okay.” I was not impressed with that answer so I left him in his office.
I went looking for her at lunchtime, a little after 1. She was sitting at a table in the Craft Services tent, in the corner by herself, looking down at a paper coffee cup. She was really good at making herself small and seemingly insignificant...but it had the opposite effect on me. It made me want to talk to her more. I grabbed a coffee for myself and a caramel macchiato for Jared from the coffee cart.
“So, I asked Dabb where we got you from and he said it was an open cast. You sent a video in but you’ve never done anything else. You don’t even have an agent.” I walked up and sat in front of her on the other side of the table. She looked up and her eyes went all wide. “So you just decided to become an actor in your twenties?” I guessed her age.
She bit her bottom lip for a minute before leaning forward. “No. I decided to become an actor in high school,” she disputed. She looked a bit disappointed as she continued. “I then graduated from high school and decided that it was a stupid dream and I’d never make any headway so I gave up on it and got a real job.”
She did say that she was working retail. “Retail. So where are you from, Y/n?” I took a drink of my coffee as she leaned back.
“Northwest Florida. Little town about fifteen miles from the state line.”
I smiled, remembering a Spring Break with Christian back in the 90s. “North Florida. I spent a couple Spring Breaks at PCB when I was...younger and unmarried.”
She gave a little laugh. “Panama City is about an hour and a half away from home.”
I took another drink, trying to think of something to keep the conversation going. “So you acted in high school, huh?” I asked as I saw Jared walk into the tent behind her.
“Yeah. School plays, Thespians, Forensics competitions, that kinda thing.” I heard about that competition shit from Jared. ‘Competition’ is the key word on that. Apparently, it’s harder than screen acting.
“You did Forensics?” Jared asked, his whole face lighting up. “I won Nationals with my friend Chris in high school.” He came over and folded himself backward into a chair. I handed him his coffee and he nodded at me.
“I did monos. Got second in State, but didn’t make Nationals.” She sounded a little disappointed, but shit, second in State is pretty damn good.
“I did monos, duos, and extemp, but I only placed in Duo. Jared,” he said, reaching out to shake her hand.
She looked a bit more comfortable with Jared and that made me feel a little bit jealous. I’m nice. I didn’t understand why she was awkward with me. “Y/n. It’s amazing to meet you.”
“Oh, he gets an ‘amazing to meet you’? I didn’t even get a handshake.” I covered the jealousy with a teasing comment.
Jared teased back before she could. “Well maybe I’m just more approachable, dude.”
“You? Giant muscley gym-bro?” I hit back.
“Honestly, I’m five-three so you’re both giants to me,” she joked with a laugh.
“So, Y/n, how long did they sign you for?” Jared asked.
“Five episodes to start. They said they’ll give me more or not depending on fan response. They’ll probably hate me, though, so I’ll be gone by midseason Hellatus.” ‘Hellatus’ made me smile.
“Why would they hate you?” Jared asked. “It’s not like your character is a love interest.” He looked between Y/n and me for a minute. “Wait, Tara’s not a love interest, is she?”
“Andrew said the writers are at an impasse on that one. No, the fans will hate her for one simple reason: jealousy.” I shrugged. “She’s a fan. Some of ‘em probably know her from, like cons and shit. They’re gonna be jealous that she’s here and they aren’t.”
She nodded. “Yeah. I’ve kinda tried to keep a lid on this from the fan groups. Haven’t told anybody except the family and my best friends about it. Unfortunately, had to stop posting in my Facebook groups when I got the job.” I cringed a bit at the mention of the Facebook groups. Fan groups are a subject best ignored as much as possible.
Jared laughed. “Man, you seem like a reasonable woman so don’t be offended when I say...some of our fans are crazy. You’re better off staying away from the fan sites.”
She smiled. “No, I know how crazy some of us can be. I’ve had some fights online with the tin-hat folks.”
I know I grimaced when she mentioned those folks. Jared did, too. “What is wrong with those people?” Jared shook his head.
She started laughing and it was such a cute, uninhibited sound. “They just...really want you to be gay for each other.”
“Yeah.” She was definitely comfortable and I wanted to take full advantage of it. “So, uh, you get tomorrow’s pages yet?” I asked, smirking. She looked down for a moment before hiding by drinking her coffee. “Yeah, she did. You gonna be okay? You’re not gonna freak out, are you?”
“I will…” She swallowed so loud I could hear it across the table. “...try my best...to not freak out.”
“You look like you’re already freaking out,” Jared said, smiling.
She took a deep breath and let it out as a scoff. “Totally. I am totally freaking out about tomorrow’s scene.”
Jared and I both laughed before I leaned forward a bit. “How about we run lines later?” That wasn’t a new thing for me. I often offer to run lines, especially with the guest stars. But the next words that came out of my mouth were new. “We could grab some dinner, meet up at my trailer, and get the nerves out of the way.”
I was just about to apologize for overstepping any bounds by inviting her to my trailer when she whispered, “That sounds...amazing.” It was this breathy, sexy voice coming out of this sweet woman and I just didn’t feel like I’d overstepped after that, even when she stuttered out, “I mean, it sounds amazing to get the nerves out of the-”
“6 o’clock. Don’t be late,” I said as Jared and I stood to get back to the Bunker.
“What am I gonna do? Go back to my motel to watch one of the ten channels that actually come through clearly?”
“They’ve got you in that Budget Inn, don’t they?” Jared guessed. We have heard a lot of horror stories about that motel.
“Yeah. It’s not so bad. Gotta sleep in the tub to avoid the bed bugs, but it’s cool. Livin’ the dream,” she joked and I laughed as we walked away.
"So...your trailer, Ackles?" Jared asked as we walked away, his eyebrow cocked.
"I'm just tryin' to be friendly, man."
"I know what your 'friendly' looks like and that was not just friendly."
"I just met her!" I argued. "And she's a guest...and a fan! I'm just trying to accommodate her nervousness so we don’t have to do a million takes tomorrow."
"Okay, well...I won't tell Dee, but you should-" I reached out and pushed his shoulder roughly and he laughed as he teetered a bit. "She seems nice, though. Don't scare her away."
I wasn’t planning to scare Y/n away. I wasn’t planning anything except hospitality. I really wasn’t. But she was cute and interesting and she was obviously incredibly attracted to me, so I couldn’t do anything anyway because that might get awkward quick.
No, I was just gonna make a new friend out of the new girl. I’ve done it a bunch of times before. I mean...look at Misha.
She showed up about half an hour early and watched us flub a few takes of this argument between Sam and Dean about Jack and it was fun to watch her expression get more awed with every take. Phil cut us for dinner after a while I jumped down from the soundstage, smiling at the look on her face. “Well, hello, Newbie,” I greeted. “I’m thinkin’ pizza. You good with pizza?”
She nodded. “Yeah. Pizza’s fine.”
I walked away from her, trying to keep everything casual as we went off to my trailer. She ran after me and I slowed down a bit. I was used to Jared and Misha following me around the lot, so I had to consciously slow myself to make it easier for Y/n’s short legs.
“Any dietary restrictions? Lactose, gluten, vegan?” I asked, just to make sure that I wasn’t going to poison her by ordering a pie with pepperoni or something.
“It’s not a pizza without cheese and meats and…” Y/n shook her head and laughed. “I’m a Southern girl. We don’t deal with crazy…gluten-free, meat-free, paleo-vegan...blah, blah, blah,” she finished, gesturing with her hands in the air. It was adorable.
“I thought you were from Florida,” I argued teasingly. “Not really ‘Southern’.”
“And I thought you’d been to North Florida. You should know that Northwest Florida is pretty much UCLA: Upper Corner, Lower Alabama,” she responded and I laughed. Never heard that one before. “That’s not my joke.”
“It was pretty funny anyway. So, you like pepperoni?”
“Look at me. Do I look like I’ve ever turned down free food? Well, except lasagna, but got a...thing with lasagna.”
That threw me so hard I had to stop and turn to her. “What does that mean, you’ve got a thing with lasagna?” I asked.
“There was a bad thing with some really horrible microwave lasagna when I was about seven. Couldn’t eat it for years, now I can only eat it if I make it.”
There was a story there, but I wasn’t ready to push for it. “Wow. Okay. Do not order lasagna. Check.” I opened up the trailer and let her in, grabbing my phone off of the counter as soon as I got inside. I pulled up the speed dial for the closest good pizza place and went into the bathroom to change. It was a mix of teasing her and preparing her that I drove me to change my clothes. Well, change my pants into shorts and take the wardrobe shirts off. I wrapped a towel around my waist and checked in the mirror to make sure the shorts weren’t visible before setting the phone on the sink counter and grabbing the door handle. “Okay, pizza will be here in ‘bout forty, which gives us plenty of time to run lines,” I said, to get her attention before I’d opened the door, so she could get the full effect of my outfit.
Which got me exactly the dumbfounded look from her that I was expecting. She stared. And when I say ‘stared’, I mean it. Her jaw dropped, her eyes went focused and unfocused and roamed over me like crazy. Usually, I start feeling shy when women stare at me like that, but not with her. With Y/n, it felt less like objectification and more like appreciation.
“See, this is why we need to practice,” I said to snap her out of it. I smirked as she cleared her throat and looked off toward the fireplace before closing her eyes.
“Sorry.”
“No, you have to look at me, kid. It’s part of the scene.”
She sighed and looked over at me. “I’m not a kid. I have a kid. I’m a woman.”
“Then act like one,” I challenged.
She licked her lips, cleared her throat again and sat forward. “Please, do keep both hands on the towel, Winchester. One never knows where you hunters have hidden weapons.”
I went into Dean mode like the second nature that it is. “Tara. What do you want?”
“World peace, a condo in Malibu, and a little respect would be nice,” she said, confidence that was definitely not her natural mode leaking out of her. “I mean, I did save your asses in Chicago.”
“Yeah, that’s not how I remember it.”
She laughed out loud and stood. “Of course not. You can’t possibly admit that a witch helped you. I mean, a witch other than Rowena Macleod.”
“Yeah, your mentor, right? Explain again why I’m supposed to trust that you’re a white witch?”
“She wasn’t my mentor. She wasn’t allowed to be. Olivette wouldn’t let me. Shit! ‘Olivette wouldn’t let her’.” Her face fell as she pulled out her pages, obviously upset that she’d blown a single word in her line. “‘Olivette wouldn’t let her. We had to train in secret, but that doesn’t mean I carry her ideals’,” she read frantically.
I smiled as soothingly as possible. “Calm down. It’s a lot better to fuck up here with me than out there on camera. Don’t wanna end up on the gag reel, do you?” She shook her head. “All right. From the top.”
We made it through the scene completely on the second try and she said her lines like she was completely immersed in Tara’s character. It shocked me a bit, actually. No wonder Casting picked her out of a pile of video submissions. She hit those facial expressions and the overwhelming sense of ‘trying to do right without the right tools’ better than I could have imagined. There was so much pain in her eyes when she said, “Don’t trust me. Don’t like me. I don’t care” and it wasn’t even in the script to be anything but pissy.
She asked how well she’d done and I smiled as I pulled the towel off and tossed it across the room to land on the counter. She looked relieved to see my golf shorts. “You did great. You think you’ll be able to stay focused in front of the cameras?”
“Well, if I can manage to not drool all over myself staring at you when it’s just the two of us, I think I can keep my shit together in front of Phil and everyone else.”
I smiled as she carried some of her Tara energy over into her real life. “Ah, so you’re one of those fans,” I teased.
She scoffed loudly. “Oh, come on. You know how sexy you are.” She scrunched her face up in a grimace and looked away. “That was not what I intended to say.”
“Can’t take it back now,” I said, chuckling.
“Oh, how I wish I could,” she said, shaking her head. “Okay, so have they told you anything about the Chicago episode ‘cause I have no clue what’s going on with that. They haven’t given me anything on that.”
They do that sometimes, where they’ll forget to tell folks what’s going on in the episodes before. It’s part of shooting out of order, but it usually doesn’t affect the guests too much...and they almost always told me and Jared in advance. “Right, I’ve got a first draft script round here somewhere.” I went looking around the counter near the kitchenette to find the script and handed it to her. I’d already read it but I looked over her shoulder as she went through it herself.
“Oh, she...is very flirty, isn’t she?” she said when she got to the part where Tara said ‘If we were doing what I wanted, we’d be in bed not a warehouse’. She seemed a bit uncomfortable about it so I smiled and knocked my knee into hers.
“You can handle that, right?”
“Of course I can,” she defended.
“Good,” I said, getting up to retrieve the pizza from the PA knocking at my door. As we ate slices of floppy pepperoni pizza, she pointed out a line where Dean tells Sam ‘Tara was kinda hot in a Khloe Kardashian circa 2007 kinda way’. “Which means…?”
“That’s when she was the ‘fat’ Kardashian,” Y/n explained, looking down at herself a bit self-consciously. “She was still hot, I guess…’cause she knows how to make herself look good with the clothes and makeup and all the stuff money makes easy, but she was not considered the prettiest one.”
It seemed like a subject that made her sad, and I guess I could see that Y/n was what Hollywood considered ‘fat’, but I thought she was hot...and I didn’t like her feeling bad about herself. “Oh, so a chick likes to eat, so she’s not hot? Never understand that.”
“Me either,” she said, smiling as she took a big bite of her pizza.
I made her feel a bit better and that was exactly what I needed at that moment.
The Kitchen Sink Tags- @flamencodiva @sacriceria @lyarr24 @440mxs-wife @nancymcl @mariekoukie6661 @alwayskeepfightingsweetheart @cosicas-cuquis @queenoftheunderdark @myheartbelongsintz @squirrelnotsam @akshi8278 @muhahaha303 @agirlwithdemonblood @this-is-me19 @mrswhozeewhatsis
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mAtEs iN cOLoRaDo
Someone needs to take away my Capcut privileges.
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lemonlimestar · 29 days
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i have been very antsy about posting fic anywhere but here is you shine brightly in my sky because it’s my favorite :-) cassie and kon friendship will always be famous
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The side effects on being a HLVRAI enjoyer are getting occasionally possessed by the spirit of Benny
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mamawasatesttube · 1 year
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“When you laugh like that, it just — you’re so beautiful, you know that?” for the ficlet prompt pls !! love your writing so so much ❤️
Tim is a very serious guy, busy doing very serious work.
"—still don't know why anyone would write this! Actually, who the fuck paid them to write this?! Is this the state of journalism in today's world?" Bart flails a hand at his laptop screen, laughing so hard he's turning red. "Someone—someone got paid to write—to write this?! This is a self-help article?!"
"I just don't—why would you—" Kon stares at the screen, too, fingers steepled and pressed to his lips in deep consternation. "I can't even finish my dramatic reading! Why would—why would—who even wants to phone a friend in the middle of doing an enema?"
Tim is a very serious guy, busy doing very serious work, by which he means playing Minesweeper while listening to his very un-serious friends read a how-to guide on, for some reason, coffee enemas. It happens. He really did mean to get work done, but sitting in the common room was a mistake; he's just been listening and swallowing laughter for the past ten minutes.
"I can promise you this. If any of you ever phone me with anything up your ass, we are not friends anymore," Cassie says, sounding disturbed.
That does it. Tim's finger slips and clicks a bomb instead of a safe tile as he wheezes with sudden, explosive laughter.
All three of them whip around to look at him; Bart is the first to crack into giggles, too, then Kon smothers a chuckle into his hands, and finally Cassie slumps back onto the cushions behind her, cackling. Tim really, truly does try to get ahold of himself, but it's a losing battle at this point.
"Where did you even find this article, Bart?" he manages, grinning breathlessly. "Send me the link." It sounds like a great way to harass Dick, and Tim needs to do that yesterday.
"Why?" Bart shoots back immediately. "Feeling inspired?"
"You better not call me when you try it out," Cassie wheezes.
Kon, meanwhile...
Oh. Wait. What's up with Kon? He's still grinning, but it's a softer look than before; his eyes sparkle with warmth as he looks at Tim, perching in the bay window. That's a very, ah... fond? Yes, fond. A very fond look for someone whose companions are currently losing their shit about a self-help article about coffee enemas.
Tim meets his gaze and quirks an eyebrow. Kon blinks at him, seeming surprised; did he think Tim wouldn't notice him gazing over like that?
"Sorry, sorry," Kon says, though he certainly doesn't sound particularly sorry. “When you laugh like that, it just—man, you’re so beautiful, you know that?”
Tim's face immediately flames. That's rich, coming from the most beautiful guy in not just the room, but the entire city. Country. World? Yeah, world. "Uh."
"Oh my god, shut the fuck up, you're so sappy!" Bart groans, smacking Kon on the shoulder. Kon, because he's Kon, just preens at his complaints. "Stop being a cheese before I kick your ass!"
"Be careful that it doesn't have coffee in it!" Cassie snickers into her hands.
Normally, Tim would join in on the ribbing. Right now, though, he's still a little stuck on Kon just casually calling him beautiful for laughing. What the fuck. They've been officially dating for two weeks! He can't just spring that kind of thing on Tim! And the worst (best) part is, because he's Kon, Tim knows he's being completely genuine about it!
Why did this have to happen during this, of all conversations?
"Now, Bart," Kon says, and aggressively ruffles Bart's hair. "You know Tim is the only one here with the rights to touch my ass, kicking or not."
Bart blows an obnoxiously loud raspberry. Tim drops his face into his hands.
Yeah, he's a serious guy, alright. Real serious about... starting a new game of Minesweeper and listening to his friends continue to be a bunch of comedians.
♥ soft sentence starters ♥
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stripeixii · 4 months
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Ooooh yooo
Random writing idea
Loosely based on a possessed corpse AU idea I had, but not necessarily part of the AU.
This takes place in the future, I'd say Cassie is about in her mid to late 20s
Word cout: 2,070
Cassie looked over the cluttered driveway she sat in, her cinnamon coloured eyes taking in the decaying house and landscape with nervousness as she tried to will herself to get out of the car. The click and whirr of the seat belt retracting felt unreal as she took a breath and pushed open the car door.
She slipped out of it but hovered around the open door for longer than intended as the vehicle droned out an irritating beeping. She made a face as she bent down and snatched the keys from the car ignition. 
She was just going to leave them in the car, but thought better of it, instead  she retracted herself and shoved the car door shut with a thud.
She wasn't sure what she'd find, if anything but she at least had a small glimmer of hope for an expectation.
 
The dead leaves and dry overgrown weeds crunched with each step, and each step filled her with more dread. The cold breeze tore at her cheeks as it blew past, taking leaves with it into the autumn air. As she walked up the paved path to the house she frowned, she didn't like how time had treated her childhood home. The outside looked battered, dirty with decay, and falling apart. The shudders hung off broken hinges and the windows looked coated in grime. The siding was dingy and discolored while the yard and weeds had grown up around the house to help encase it in solitude.
She had to kick a clump of overgrown weeds and dead leaves to the side as she stepped onto the porch and ascended up the steps. 
She gave a harsh gasp as her foot went through a part of the wood that was weak with decay and yanked her foot back. She was thankful for the boots she wore because that would have probably cut her leg all up. She forced herself to take another breath to calm down as she stared at the hole her foot had just made. Carefully she tapped around its edges with her toe, and then out in front of her in search of any more sunken in and decaying planks that made up the porch.
The cold air smelled like decaying plants and overhanging foliage, it reminded her of the wooded areas she'd sometimes play in when she was younger. It was a memory that felt bittersweet now as her gaze panned up to the door. Its dirty state was saddening.
With a strain of hesitance she grabbed the door handle to open it, but it was locked. She made a face in a moment of irritation, but a bit of pressure and resulting cracking noises had let her shove the door open.
She was immediately hit with the dence musty air and horrible stench.  She recoiled and had to compose herself before entering, unsure if she'd like what she'd find.
“...Dad…?” She called out into the quiet and thick air, the sound bouncing a bit off the walls and decrepit furniture. She looked around the corridor a bit with a twinge of disappointment seeing so many things from memory desecrated with time. She stepped up to the coat hooks near the door, they were empty with the exception of a dirty pink and green windbreaker in a child's size, dust hiding the bright colors under a dull gray overlay. Reaching out to separate the sleeve and examine it she tried to stop the pained expression she made. Instead she released the sleeve and went to unhook the small jacket entirely. The movement jostled it enough to disturb whatever was in the pockets and it fell out in a shower by her feet.
She quietly exclaimed,
“Ah!” As she stepped backwards leaving the coat swaying a bit on the hook, but realizing what had happened she had stepped back in place. Bending a bit she examined what was on the floor; buttons, rocks, a marble, and a decayed piece of hard candy ( it looked like maybe bugs had gotten to it as the wrapper seemed relatively empty but was still wrapped neatly.)
She frowned, deeming it unhelpful and stepping back. Thanks younger cassie.
The silence that had fallen over the house, and the undisturbed creaks as she carefully walked along the floor made her reminisce in the warm memory of running through the house barefoot to see what her dad was doing, probably cooking something in the kitchen. There was almost always a soft ambiance of something playing, he didn't really like the silence either. It was always jarring when the power went out, and even the quiet hum of appliances was gone.
She stopped in about the middle of the small hall that was the entryway and sighed.
“I'm sorry I didn't take my shoes off,” she whispered as she looked to her feet on the dirty carpet and it brought her memory back to the many times she had walked over the nice off white carpet in mismatched socks, something she had taken for granted out of ignorance.
She blew a sigh from her mouth as she turned to walk through the familiar halls, all the while choking a bit on the air having to press her sleeve covered hand to her nose.
Her eyes caught a dust covered Pictureframe, knocked back against the other little decorations on the little shelf hanging from a nearby wall. She approached and scooped up the picture to look at it, it was a photo of the three of them, her momm dad, and her… it too held an odd sadness that distorted her features a bit. 
The day they took this photo was such a nice one… they had gone out to a park with a pond, there were ducks! There were also frogs! Cassie gave a sad smile, even after her parents divorce he had still kept photos around, she knew that, but even now still seeing them about…
She glanced around a bit at the walls so she could look for other framed photos. It was like nothing had changed, had he never moved anything,
She stared at the photo she held a moment longer before setting it back in its place, and swiping at the dust collected on the glass with her thumb, it barely helped.
“Dad..?” She tried again as she continued forward with slow steps “I, Uh-”
She what? 
She didn't know.
She was here, sure, but why?
Another bauble caught her eye, standing watch from inside the open cavity of a cabinet placed over drawers, she approached slowly and carefully stuck her hand in the cavity to grab it.
The movement caused a black blur to unfurl from the darkness and shove outward, nearly hitting her in the face as it flew out of the cubby.
“Ahk!” She yelled as she stumbled back, falling on the floor.
“Ah- Okay,” she tried to reassure herself, “It was a bat, I’m-” She exhaled. “It was just a bat…” she mumbled and after taking a moment she pushed herself up and swiped at the dirt that was collected on the back of her thighs.
“Okay,,,” she said again trying to reassure herself before looking at the item again. A little plush rabbit she remembered well. Again, a bit more cautiously this time, she reached out and pulled it from the shelf. The purple fabric was matted and grayed with dust, and it's face and body were a bit deflated as if it had lost volume over the years. Despite its sad appearance, it still radiates warmth she long missed. She hesitated a moment as she held it out, she was going to put it back but decided to instead  shove it in her coat pocket.
She continued a bit further now and couldn't help but smile a bit as she stood in front of a cute green and purple decorated room, the glow-in-the-dark stars barely clung to the walls any more, they looked like a slight breeze would knock them down. Even coated in dust the frilly room seemed bright. She stepped into it and the familiar creaking from the floorboards of the doorway made her giddy, she wasn't sure if it was excitement or nervousness.
She trailed into the room and picked up
A stuffed toy that lay on the floor and she breathed out a bit of a sigh
The stuffed dog had seen better days, that's for sure. She turned a bit swiveling to glance around the room before deciding to walk across it and take a seat on the dusty bedspread; the mattress of the little twin bed sunk under her weight and the frame creaked. She blew out a breath as she set the dog up against the head of the bed with the pillows and other plush toys stashed there.
She could only handle reminiscing in the memories of the past for so long before she had to leave the bedroom, she thought she might start crying if she didn't. 
Out of respect for preserving it metaphorically she pulled the door closed and stood there a long moment looking at the closed door, her eyes stuck to the funky font spelling out “Cassie” but the stickers were worn and peeling. The name wasn't recognizable from the halves a quarters of letters, more so that the initial lettering left a clean outline from where it blocked the build up of dirt.
She had to manually tear her gaze away and turn to walk back the way she had come.
She was quick to notice this side of the house smelled much worse.
Without thought she idly wondered if an animal had died here. She pressed her hand to her nose in hopes of just smelling the scent that clung to the fabric.
She frowned, and forced herself to pull her hand away from her face as she cautiously pushed open the half closed bedroom door she now stood in front of. It let out a long whiney creak before the top hinge broke and it fell at an odd diagonal with an unpleasant thud, she had stepped back in surprise but managed to not verbally react.
She stepped into the room and the floorboards creaked and shifted with her weight. She wasn't expecting it to break through the eerie silence and jumped a bit before gathering herself. She scanned the room, half darkened by torn and rotting curtains, but in the places they had completely fallen there was plenty of light creeping through to illuminate the room. Like being near the mouth of a cave, not the bright glass house atmosphere of light pooling in through all the windows and bouncing off all the walls like she's used to seeing from this room.
Her eyes finally fell to the bed across the room and she yelped, jumping back into the rotted door and smacking her head against it.
“Ow-!” She gave almost involuntarily as her hand had trailed to her head to rub the sore area.
Her eyes fell back on the bed, and the skeletal decayed mass that lay on it.
It took a lot to force her legs to move forward, but she did finally trail into the room and over to the bed to stand in front of the decrepit sight.
“Oh… god..” She managed to  push out under her breath.  As she looked over the gross pile of bones in front of her, it was vaguely human shaped and barely held together by thinly veiled skin draped around it, the translucency allowed you to see the inactive veins and decaying muscle beneath. There was barely anything left to identify it as even a person.
When one of the fingers twitched she thought her soul left her body as she jerked with a jump, stumbling back a few steps and emitting a yelp.
Panicked, her eyes were glued to it as she watched from this distance to make sure it wouldn't get up and attack her, it took a minute for her to approach again with eyes still a bit wide with shock.
On the left hand she could see the tarnished but barely decayed metal wedding band on what was left of a boney finger.
The realization had crept up on her and not addressing it made it attack her in a flood,
“Dad..?” She whispered
“How long have you been in here..?”
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florietiae · 3 months
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mistakes have been made.
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spaghettiandart · 8 months
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WAIT. WAIT. WAIT. A FNAF DAEMON AU WOULD GO INSANELY HARD.
(Rambling in tags)
#*opens up art app*#okay look. LOOK. i have it all figured out (no i dont)#william would have a bunny. because obviously. thematic stuff yknow.#i think michael would have a foxhound. like before his daemon settled it would usually take the form of a fox but after the bite... yknow#if the bite didnt happen it would have been a fox#vanessa's is a jackrabbit and gregory's is unsettled but usually takes the form of a lemur#now the interesting thing is that in some forms of media a daemon is a guiding spirit and in others its a manifestation of the human soul#now. bear with me here.#what if the animatronics from security breach gained daemons when they gained a certain amount of sentience.#what philosophical ramifications would that have in universe.#additionally: dead people. ghosts. their daemons would still hang around id think but not in the same form as before.#maybe the daemons are unsettled because the ghosts business is unsettled or maybe the daemons are more skeletal versions of animals#saying this because susie should still have her dog when shes in chica#cassies daemon would be unsettled but i think shes one of those middle school wolf girls. shell definitely have a wolf. look at her.#itd be hilarious to give CC just a giant bear in a future where he didnt die.#henry has a dog i can feel it in my bones he has a fluffy sheepdog#charlie... i feel bird energy. i do not know why. maybe something like a raven. death symbology yknow.#fnaf#not art#i should... write this all down#elizabeth and CC would unfortunately be unsettled when they die :(#elizabeth also gives me otter energy i do not know why.
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characteroulette · 8 months
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Okay actually I'll talk about this since it's on my mind. (Fnaf sb Ruin spoilers)
I like Cassie's reaction to shutting down Roxy a lot!! It's a pretty accurate child reaction to something like that happening. We, as adults, know that, logically, shutting Roxy down is for her best. She's broken and malfunctioning, so giving her a reset (like how we did to Sun/Moon for Eclipse) is probably the best thing we can do for her.
Cassie, however, is a child. To her, she's doing something so mean or terrible or awful to her favourite character and she's very clearly distraught about it. She's aware enough to know she has to do it, but the emotions are too big for her to separate it as a good thing instead of something as immensely sad as she feels it is. Her reaction to it being pretty real is probably what makes that moment work as well as it does; one point in Steel Wool's favour there!
Her erratic crying isn't great and her overall reactions are more "adult writing a child" than it should be, (what especially strikes me in the finale is the way she comes at Gregory with "Is it you? I mean, the REAL you?" as calmly as she does. As well as her phrasing. Were she more an actual child, she'd probably be freaking out a lot more than that and be less consolable, especially with all the heightened emotions surrounding this moment), but writing kids is hard so I can give somewhat of a pass to this. Considering Gregory has a lot of the same sort of hiccups to his reactions/phrasing, it's about what I'd expect from their character work.
Anyway yeah just a thought I had on Cassie an her character.
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tathrin · 8 months
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You know I have to ask about Animorphs: Back to the Beginning
Ahh okay, so I honestly don't think I'll ever actually write this one because frankly, one rewrite-the-series-AU is enough for me thank you (and also everyone and their mother has already at least toyed with the concept of "what if one/some of the Animorphs went back to the start of things?" fics anyway) ...so I'm just going to post everything I do have:
"Ram the Blade Ship," I said.
There was a tingle, something like a shock although not painful, that ran through me. I drew my hand away from the side of a blue box—of the Blue Box.
<Go now,> a voice in my head said. <Only remember this—never remain in animal form for more than two of your Earth hours. Never! That is the greatest danger of the morphing! If you stay longer than two hours you will be trapped, unable to return to human form.>
"What," I said, unable to process what my eyes were seeing. "What is—where?"
"Oh man," said a voice that was both more familiar than my own and yet strange. "Oh man, this is—this can't be happening. Jake…"
It was Marco, but he sounded wrong. Sounded…sounded young.
I looked down at my hand, at my weirdly small fingers. I looked up at the bright green eyes of Elfangor, staring at me.
<You must go!> he said. He was scared—I could feel it, a dread crawling up my spine that was even more familiar than my too-small fingers and Marco's too-young voice. His main eyes turned away from me to stare up at the sky. <Visser Three! He comes,> Elfangor said.
I was shaking, but not because of Visser Three.
"Oh man," Marco said again. His eyes were as wide as saucers, the rims of white around the dark pupils standing out like headlamps against his brown cheeks. "Jake…does he mean…?"
I couldn't speak. I could only nod. Because if this was Elfangor—if this was the moment I thought it was, the moment it couldn't possibly be, then that wasn't Visser Three up there. That was Visser One. Only he wasn't, yet. And that meant…
<Run!> Elfangor said again. He sounded frustrated with our paralysis, but mostly he just sounded scared. Had he always sounded this scared, and I hadn't noticed it through my own fear? Or was my own fear what was coloring the sound of his voice in my head, now?
<Visser Three is the most deadly of your enemies,> he was explaining worriedly. <Of all Yeerks he alone has the power to morph. The same power you now have. Run!>
"Rachel?"
It was Tobias's voice. He didn't sound too young, because his thought-speak voice had never aged the way our human voices had aged, but the twisted pain and hope and love in his voice made him sound somehow even more unfamiliar than Marco did, here on the other end of adolescence. Or maybe it was just that Tobias was speaking aloud, which he so rarely did.
"No, we'll stay with you," said a voice that I heard almost every night as I tossed myself awake, a voice that was young and strong and already so, so brave in the face of dangers that she still didn't understand, dangers that she'd died facing down with her head held high.
"Maybe we can help," said Rachel, and the world seemed to stop around me.
<No,> Elfangor said, although I barely heard him through the roar that was Rachel drawing breath to protest so close beside me. The roar of Rachel breathing. <You must save yourselves. Save yourselves and save your planet! The Yeerks are here.>
I didn't look up; I couldn't look away from the sight of my cousin, alive.
Rachel, alive.
She was staring at the sky, and I could see Cassie—so young, so scared!—beside her, looking up as well, but for once I didn't have any attention to spare for the girl that I had once thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with, because I was looking at the girl I'd gotten murdered instead.
I was looking at Rachel, and she was alive.
It was Marco who jolted into action, who managed to see that bright clear line stretching out ahead of him enough to pull his eyes away from the sight of a living, breathing Rachel Berenson while Tobias and I were still staring, dumbfounded and disbelieving.
"Run with us," he said to Elfangor. "You can heal, and we'll be able to fight the Yeerks better with you than on our own."
<If I run, they will chase me,> Elfangor said. <If I do not die here, they will never stop hunting me. They will burn this human city and everything in it to the ground to find me. You will die, and I will die, and the Yeerks will win.> One of his eye stalks turned to stare into the darkness of the construction site, and I had a moment to wonder if he was thinking about other options—thinking about what he'd really come to this place seeking, before he'd found all of us instead—but his sad smile remained fixed on Marco's face. If he thought about changing his mind, running, it wasn't a thought he entertained for long. <Wounds or no, I cannot live through this night. Visser Three will not allow it, and I will not allow Earth's only chance at hope to die alongside me. You must run.>
"Jake, I…I think we need to," Cassie said, and her eyes were on the dark shapes in the sky and her voice was small.
"Yeah," I said, and the response was as automatic as it was true. I licked dry lips and looked at Elfangor. "Okay," I said. "We'll fight them. The Yeerks. We'll fight them, and we'll stop them. I promise."
"Yeah," Marco said, laughing shakily, "it'll be just like riding a bike. Unless we don't get out of here right now, and get flash-fried by the Yeerks instead." Despite his words, he still paused to look at Elfangor. His face was turned away from mine so I couldn't see the expression that passed across it, but I saw him nod once—maybe in respect, maybe in forgiveness, maybe in farewell—before he punched my shoulder and turned to run.
I forced myself to my feet, feeling as awkward and out of place in my own body as though I were wearing an unfamiliar morph. "Tobias, pull it together," I said, and then Rachel's hand was in mine and Cassie's was in hers and we were running, Marco on our heels, and my brain whirling in a million different directions at once but somehow amidst every thought and fear and scream inside my head, all I could focus on was the feel of Rachel's hand—warm, solid, alive—against my own.
I glanced back once and almost tripped over my suddenly clumsy feet. Rachel kept me upright—even then, she was strong enough to do her own running while looking after Cassie and me, too; words that I had spoken so many years ago they had happened in a different lifetime came back to me suddenly, the boastful swagger of a teenage boy trying to show-off in front of his crush and sounding like a sexist dweeb in the process, and I almost laughed.
Instead I shouted, "Tobias! Move!"
He was still crouching beside Elfangor—beside his father—and for a minute I was worried that he wasn't going to get up, that he was going to wait too long this time and die right there in the construction site before he even got his wings. Tobias had his hand on Elfangor's cheek, and Elfangor had his hand on the back of Tobias's head and all four of his eyes were closed as though in meditation or some kind of trance. A flash of memory reminded me that Tobias had stayed behind the first time we'd met Elfangor, too, and had gotten some kind of memory-download that had told us so much of what we'd needed to know in those first, frantic days—but we didn't need that now, we knew so much more now than what Elfangor could tell him. There was no reason to dally this time except for sentiment, and we didn't have time for Tobias to waste on that. I understood the impulse, of course I did, but this was a war and Tobias knew better—!
Then Elfangor's head rocked back, all four of his eyes spinning to focus on Tobias's face, and finally Tobias pushed himself to his feet, his fingers trailing behind him for another half-second yet while Elfangor's frail Andalite hand reached out almost as though trying to grab and stop him from leaving. Then Tobias pulled away and Elfangor's hand fell and Tobias was running, stumbling heavily over the loose junk and potholes of the construction site and over his own unfamiliar human feet.
A beam of bright red light snapped on. The spotlight from the Bug fighter was joined by a second, both fixed on Elfangor and his ship. The Yeerks didn't know that there was anything else in here they should be concerned about, didn't know there was anything else here that was a danger to them—but we weren't yet, were we? My head was still reeling, trying to figure out what was going on, what had happened and even more importantly than why, how—but if my hands were small and Marco's voice was young and Rachel was alive, then we probably didn't have any morphs we could use yet, did we? That would mean we weren't a danger, not yet—but we would be.
I silently promised whatever messed-up craziness was going on that no matter what, we would be.
The five of us crouched together behind a low, crumbled wall. As the Bug fighters descended, I looked sideways at Marco and Tobias.
Marco mouthed a three-word question, and I shook my head. "Elimist?" I hissed back, and shrugged. It was the only thing that made sense—not that anything did make sense, but that was the only thing that came close, even after everything.
"But why?" Marco whispered.
I shook my head again. I didn't know. I didn't know anything.
But Rachel was crouching only a few inches away from me and she was alive. I wasn't sure that there was anything else that mattered, next to that.
As the Blade Shipe descended, bringing both its old familiar chill and the newer, stranger sensation of a deja vu beyond anything I had ever experienced in my life—we had just seen that ship, had just rammed that ship, and now here were both were, somehow back at the moment of our very first meeting—my gaze kept going back and forth between it and my cousin. My living, breathing cousin. There was fear on her face, a fear that I could barely remember on the other side of the bravado that she had so long ago adopted in its stead, but her jaw had the same stubborn set I knew from so many fights and losses. How had anyone ever looked at this girl and seen anything but a warrior?
How had anyone ever looked at her and thought they could send her off to die?
When Cassie started to scream, I was so startled I almost shrieked myself. It had been so long since any of us had been so unaccustomed to fear as to scream because of it that I froze, unsure of what to do.
It was Marco who leaned across me and clamped his hand over her mouth, Marco who hissed, "Quiet, or we're dead!" in her ear. Cassie stopped screaming and swallowed, but I could see her shaking. I put a hand on her shoulder and nodded at Marco, letting him know that I had it from here—that I was functional, ready to deal.
He raised his eyebrows at me but nodded and let go of Cassie, sinking back into his crouch. I put my other hand on his shoulder, a silent thank you—or maybe just the need to know that he was real, that even if this was all really happening at least I wasn't alone.
I heard Elfangor's voice in my head, telling me things I already knew about the Hork-Bajir. I looked the other way, towards Tobias where he was crouched at the end of the line of Animorphs. His eyes were fixed on Elfangor, but his fingers were wrapped around Rachel's. From the tightness of his grip, I doubted that he was ever going to let go.
"Did you hear that?" Cassie whispered. "Please, tell me you all heard that too!"
Rachel nodded. If Tobias's white-knuckled grip hurt, she didn't show it. "Yeah," she said.
Elfangor continued speaking, telling us how the Hork-Bajir had been enslaved (but not the role the Andalites had played in their suffering, of course) and that they were to be pitied.
"Pity. Right," Rachel said grimly. "They're walking killing machines. Look at them!"
I didn't look at the Hork-Bajir. I looked at Rachel, jarred by the uncharacteristic words she'd spoken—but then I realized, we didn't yet know better. We didn't understand what being a Controller meant, didn't understand what the Hork-Bajir had suffered. We hadn't met Jara Hamee and Ket Hapek. We hadn't met Toby, or any of the free Hork-Bajir. They didn't have a valley yet. They didn't have hope.
I swallowed hard, and fought the urge to be sick. This was too much. It had been too much to handle the first time, too, but in a different way. This was…
This was too much.
I stared at the Taxxons as they crawled out of the ships, my eyes unfocused and my brain far away. I distantly heard Marco mutter, "Pity them more, I think," but I wasn't thinking about the Taxxons. I was trying to remember every detail I could about this night, about the first time I'd lived through it. That was weird, because I'd once thought that I'd remember every single second of it with perfect clarity for as long as I lived—and in a way I did, but in another way I didn't, either. Memory was malleable, and changed with time. That was something I'd learned during the months after the war, when we'd all been struggling to recall dates and details and the neat order of events in order to explain them to other people, but I don't think I'd realized how soft memory really was until I was living one again as if it was for the first time.
The Yeerks had spotted us, and we'd had to run, and Chapman had ordered us killed. That was after Elfangor had died, though; it had to have been, because we all remembered watching that. All remembered watching Visser Three kill him—eat him. So we weren't actually in danger until Elfangor was dead—but what had triggered our discovery? I didn't remember, but somehow I thought it was something I'd done. Had I sneezed?
Why didn't I remember something this important?
The warmth of Elfangor's courage welled-up inside me like sunlight, like childhood. It made me feel safe and warm and whole in a way I hadn't felt since…well, maybe since this very night. Or a few days after it, at least. It was strange. It made me feel like a kid again.
Oh man, we were kids again. We couldn't even morph. This was insane…
But Rachel was alive. And there in the dark in the construction site, with a Hork-Bajir sniffing the air only a few feet away from me, Elfangor moments from death, I made a private vow to myself that she was going to stay that way this time, even if it killed me.
Was that why I was here? Was the Ellimist going to let me make a trade?
Or maybe it wasn't the Ellimist. Maybe it was someone else.
Well, if Crayak wanted me he could have me this time, if I got to save Rachel. I'd traded my life away in one of his monstrous games before and I was willing to do it again. But then why were Marco and Tobias here, too? Cassie and Rachel were living this for the first time, but Marco and Tobias weren't. Why? What was the difference?
Was it because the three of us had been on the Rachel, and they hadn't? Did that mean that down in the ocean right now, Ax was his future self too?
Another possibility hit me like ice water. Ax hasn't been himself when we'd rammed the Blade Ship. Did that mean The One was here, too?
Visser Three wrenched my attention back to the present—or the past—or whatever this was. Maybe it was a hallucination. They say your life flashes before your eyes when you die; was that what this was? Was I going to relive my whole life from the moment of Andalite contact on up to the moment I died, aware of every mistake I'd ever made but unable to correct them?
But no, we weren't trapped in our old roles—we'd already changed things; had said things we couldn't have known to say the first time, or done little things differently, like Tobias sitting with Elfangor a few seconds longer or Marco covering Cassie's mouth when I failed to stop her scream. We weren't just walking through our parts. We were really here, really living this.
If this was real. If this wasn't just some game of Crayak's to torment us, or the Ellimist's to…well, to serve some illusory "greater good" of his own that was effectively going to also probably be torture. There was no way of knowing, so the only thing we could do was treat it like it was real. Like it was happening.
Like we were really here, again.
"What the…" Rachel said, living this moment for the first time with all the confusion and horror that came with that. "Isn't that an Andalite?"
She was looking at Visser Three. I looked at him too, and familiarity allowed me to see things I hadn't the first time when I'd been shaking in shock and terror. Visser Three walked out of the Blade Ship haughty and proud, but he was scared too. I could recognize the fear on his face, in the way he held his tail blade. Even with all his minions around him, weapons at the ready and his hated foe wounded and fallen, Visser Three was still scared of Elfangor. Still worried that the great Andalite war-prince had one last trick up his nonexistent sleeve.
I smiled grimly. If you only knew…
<Only once has a Yeerk been able to take an Andalite body,> Elfangor said. <There is only one Andalite-Controller. That one is Visser Three.>
I wondered if there was some way to get oatmeal into the Visser's feeding grounds. Maybe I should have balked at the thought of doing that to Alloran, but if anyone understood the idea of collateral damage in a war, it was him. He'd appreciate the ruthless efficiency, if not the irony. The question was whether the Visser would even ingest it when he stepped on the grass, and whether it would have the same effect on an Andalite Host that it did on human ones. Questions to ask Ax when we fished him out of the ocean, maybe, providing that he was Ax when we did…
The Visser was blustering at Elfangor, and I saw Tobias wince.
"What?" I hissed.
"Ax," Tobias whispered back. "I didn't tell him…"
I realized that the Visser had been boasting about destroying the Dome Ship, about killing everyone on board. Ax—Elfangor's little brother—had survived, but Elfangor didn't know that. We wouldn't learn that for a month, yet. I guess Tobias was wishing he'd told Elfangor that Ax was still alive, even though there would have been no way for him to explain how he knew that, or how he even knew who Ax was. I wasn't sure it would have done anything but confuse Elfangor if he had, but Tobias clearly felt guilty. I couldn't tell from his face, of course, which sported the usual expressionless mask that was his default expression when he was in human morph (although he wasn't in morph now, I reminded myself with a jolt), but his shoulders were hunched in a way that telegraphed his emotions despite the blankness of his face.
"What?" Rachel asked. "Tell who what?"
Tobias shook his head without looking away from Elfangor. Rachel didn't push for an explanation; she was too busy watching the drama playing out between the Andalite and the thing in an Andalite's body.
I watched it too, although I'd seen it before. Elfangor's defiant last stand—and was it bravery that drove him to his feet, a warrior's pride refusing to let him die on his knees? Or did he know that making Visser Three lose his temper was the best way to guarantee that he would be killed rather than infested?
Maybe it was a little bit of both.
Attacking the Bug fighter with his ship was definitely a ploy to get the Yeerks to destroy his ship rather than let (more) Andalite technology fall into Yeerk hands, though. The strategy of that move was as clear and plain as anything Marco had ever laid-out for the rest of us, now that I saw it in hindsight. I wondered what happened to the Escafil device, and kicked myself for not thinking to take it away with me when we ran. There was no sign of it out there now, of course—if there had been, the Visser would surely have taken it and this war would have gone very differently—but the first time I'd been here, I'd been too busy running for my life to think about it, and this time I'd been too busy reeling from the realization that I was here, that this was happening at all.
Dammit. I could have spared us all so much trouble if I'd been a little faster on the uptake…
"This isn't real," Cassie whispered as the Visser began to morph, "This isn't real."
It was real. And I was really here. Again.
I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes, as though I could blot-out what was happening—or maybe make it sink-in better, so that I wouldn't screw-up again. I couldn't afford to miss another chance to make things better, not if I was going to keep everybody alive this time.
Holy shit. Could I maybe even save Tom?
I forced myself to shove that thought aside. I had spent so much energy trying to save my brother the first time I'd fought this war, and it had cost us all…so, so much. Too much. I couldn't let myself fall into that trap again. Tom was a Controller, which meant Tom was lost. I had to accept that. I couldn't change anything that had happened before this night.
But I could damn sure change everything that came after.
"No, no, no," I heard Cassie whispering, and I turned instinctively to comfort her—even after everything, I turned instinctively to comfort her—but Rachel was there first, wrapping an arm around Cassie's shoulder and pulling her close.
"Don't look," Rachel said. There were tears running down her face, but she didn't turn her head away from the gruesome sight before us. Her other hand was still laced with Tobias's, and even though he was the one who'd lived through all this before I could tell that it was still Rachel lending him strength—maybe even more than then.
After all, then he'd just been scared. Now, he understood what he was really losing tonight and how much more he might still have to lose.
Visser Three opened his mouth wide and I closed my eyes. Memory might be malleable, but the moment that followed this was one that was etched indelibly on my brain. I remember jumping to my feet, ready to fight—ready to get us all killed stupidly, pointlessly. Ready to throw away Elfangor's sacrifice. I knew better now, but I wasn't sure that I trusted myself to sit quietly through his death if I had to actually watch it again.
So I closed my eyes, and I did not see Elfangor-Sirinial-Shamtul fall. But I couldn't close my mind to his scream any more now than I could before.
That cry of despair was another thing I remembered perfectly.
We sat and watched as the Yeerks congratulated each other and milled around, laughing and bragging and celebrating the death of their enemy. I wondered when they were going to spot us, and I shifted up onto my toes, ready to run—but they didn't.
Cassie was weeping silently into Rachel's shoulder, and Tobias had tears pouring down his expressionless cheeks, and Rachel's eyes shone wetly in the dull reflection from the spotlights, and Marco had one hand pressed so tight to his mouth that I could practically see the bones of his hands flexing from the tension, and the only sound I could hear was the laughter of the Controllers around us.
Why weren't they chasing us? What was I missing?
The Visser dispatched a few Controllers to search the wreckage (not that there was much wreckage) and a familiar human in a suit jacket ordered a few other humans and Hork-Bajir to stay behind on guard while they did. We would need to try and slip away quietly before a patrol caught us—but why hadn't they spotted us already?
I caught Marco's eye and raised my eyebrows in an exaggerated pantomime of confusion. He raised his back and pointed at the hand over his mouth, like that should explain everything—and then I remembered. Marco had thrown-up the first time. That was what the Hork-Bajir had heard. That was why they'd found us, chased us.
Marco wasn't going to throw-up this time. By now, we'd all seen so many more horrors than the sight of Elfangor being eaten. I felt sick, sure, but it was a familiar feeling. A small one, an expected one. I'm sure it was the same for Marco—and he wasn't taking any chances, the hand over his mouth said without speaking. He remembered exactly why the Yeerks had almost caught us this night the first time we'd lived it (had probably never stopped re-living it, the way I re-lived so many of my flaws and failures from the war) and he wasn't going to let that happen again.
I wasn't the only one who was determined to avoid repeating the things that had gone wrong the first time. I glanced sideways at Tobias's hawk-sharp, tear-filled eyes and guessed that I wasn't the only one who'd made a certain vow tonight, either.
Good, I thought savagely, as I heard the familiar laugh of my former vice principal trail the rest of the Controllers back up into the Bug fighter, we'll do this together. Your move, Crayak—or whoever you are. I stared as the Yeerks flew back into the night, my brain already whirring with plans.
Your move.
# # #
The very first night, Tobias, Jake, and Marco will discuss how to stage the rescue mission to Ax, and worry/wonder about whether it's Ax they'll find down there or not, and whether they should risk the latter right now when Rachel and Cassie are so unused to battle; but what choice do they have? If it is The One, they need to know right away, because that's another big threat to deal with…and if it's their friend, they want to get to him asap, particularly before Ax tries to come find them with no human morph for operational security—and determine that having Tobias claim that "Elfangor told him" will serve as an excuse for why he knows where Ax is. (Not that he knows exactly where Ax is; he wasn't even there, the first time, and while Jake and Marco were they don't exactly have whale-implanated navigation knowledge to use, so they'll pour over charts and do their best to figure it out). At that point Tobias will also brusquely bring up whether or not he should become a nothlit on purpose. Jake will be horrified; Marco will grimace but nod thoughtfully, because he's been wondering that himself. Tobias points-out that his being a nothlit was very helpful, especially once the Elimist gave him back his morphing. Jake counters that they can't rely on the Elimist doing that again because they don't know what the rules are of the game they're stuck in, and whether or not the Elimist will be able to interfere like that…or be willing to. Tobias gives his little bird-shrug and says that the Elimist seemed to go to a lot of effort to have me around, I don't think he'll be willing to lose me to hawk-form permanently. Jake flat-out refuses; Marco is more thoughtful, but eventually says that it's too big a risk to count on the Elimist. Not until they know more. Once the Elimist actually shows up, and they can try and get as many answers out of that bastard as they ever have, they can reassess. But for now there's too much chance of Tobias taking himself out of the fight for good, and they can afford that less than they can not having a morph-capable nothlit hawk on their team. Tobias protests, and Jake blurts out a question about Tobias doing it on purpose the first time? Tobias turns away and says no, he didn't. But…he certainly set himself up for that, yeah, he knows. He's never been comfortable in his life; being a hawk was, in a lot of ways, easier. Especially before he knew what hardships being a hawk full-time would entail, but even then…even then it was still easier than being him. No one says anything to that for a while. 
It's Marco who finally breaks the silence, saying that it's more important that Tobias be able to morph than that he be able to fly…more important that he be able to morph than that he be himself. He accepts that Tobias is more hawk than boy; he just refuses to lose a valuable morph-capable warrior to personal comfort. Tobias nods, accepting that without admitting whether or not he'd prefer to be a bird or a boy if given the choice with all else being equal. Jake and Marco decided not to press him for that answer.
Jake still thinks that it's a strong possibility that Tobias will let himself be pushed into a situation where he gets stuck in the hawk morph, though; thinks that on some level, Tobias thinks that he's worth more as a bird than a boy…and that after so many years with wings, probably is more comfortable in the hawk's body, which he thinks of as his own, than the one he was born with, which he clearly feels trapped by. He thinks that on some level, Tobias is recklessly confident that the Elimist will indeed play deux ex morphina again if (when?) Tobias gets trapped in morph…and might be dangerously relying on that assumption. But he lets the subject pass, for now. He knows Tobias won't risk trapping himself before they rescue Ax, at least, which means that it's not a priority to deal with yet. Then—and only then—does Tobias confess one very good reason why he shouldn't trap himself as a nothlit: he acquired Elfangor. Marco and Jake both stare at him, jaws dropped. Tobias doesn't duck his head the way he would have if he were the boy he looks like but instead stares them down with his dead predator eyes. Yeah, he says. It just—it seemed like the thing to do, to get an Andalite morph while we had a chance. It's not one we can use lightly, I know, because the Visser will recognize Elfangor immediately…but. It still seems useful, to be able to show the other Controllers an Andalite who isn't a kid from time to time…
Also, Marco points out coldly, if Ax isn't himself anymore, having a bigger and stronger Andalite who can potentially kick his ass around isn't going to hurt anything. Tobias agrees quietly, and Marco realizes that he's not the only one who thought of that; he smiles grimly. "We're all so fucked-up, you know that right?" he says, and then other two break into bitter laughter as they nod. "Okay. Let's figure out what morphs to get first, then. I feel…well, honestly I feel more naked than I do in my stupid morphing suit, not having anything swimming around in my DNA that I can turn into."
It's Jake who looks at Tobias and says, "You went to Cassie's barn already, didn't you."
Tobias looks away and shrugs. "Yeah," he says, defiance lacing his words instead of apology. "Not like I don't know how to get inside, is it? Even if having to do it without wings is harder."
Jake sighs. "Next time one of us wants to get a morph from Cassie's barn, how about we tell her first?"
"Sure," says Tobias. Jake sighs again. "Okay. So…you think an Andalite can restrain a tiger?"
Marco grins.
# # #
*If you do continue writing this, remember that Cassie is a sub-temporal anomaly (source: Megamorphs—Back To Before) who is "grounded" in time and will break-down any alternate timeline she is in. You can write around this by simply having her know/sense things (things "feel right" when they happen the way they should, etc) and have her be uneasy when things take big twists from the original timeline (e.g. when David comes to school, Cassie will shy away from him and be unable to explain why the mere sight of this boy she doesn't even known fills her with dread; Rachel can make some dismissive statement about him being "a creeper" because she's heard him talking, or heard other people talking about things he's said, and that Cassie is just such a good judge of character that she probably picked-up on it instinctively even without hearing the gossip about "that pervert"--mention him being caught trying to peep in the girl's locker room, maybe). If/when the Ellimist shows up, Tobias/Jake/Marco should immediately confront him about "his meddling," which will leave him shaken and confused (or at least, he seems that way to them; they decide they don't trust that he's actually surprised, because it might all still be one big game of his, but they do allow the possibility that he is surprised, and this is something else—maybe a game of Crayak's, maybe something to do with The One) and it is when they have to explain wtf is going on and why they're all shouting at this being like they know him, that the boys have to tell Rachel and Cassie what's going on with the time travel and explain why they got time shifted, but the two of them didn't…which they don't know, but suspect is because of something to do with ramming the Blade Ship. "Maybe it created a Sario Rip," Jake said, "or maybe it was something else, something to do with the creature that had taken over Ax…" and then they have to explain all of that.
Except perhaps Tobias has broken-down and told Rachel earlier? Yes, I think I like that…
They have a meeting in Rachel's bedroom, probably relatively early on, and Rachel stops Tobias before he can leave and asks him what's going on. He breaks down and tells her. She rolls with it surprisingly well; when asked, she gives a brittle laugh and says nothing else has made sense since the night they were in the construction site, why not time travel? And it explains a hell of a lot, frankly. Although she still has questions—like why were only the boys sent back? (Suspicious glare that hooks him like talons.) Why didn't you take Cassie and I along? Tobias explains that they didn't do any of this on purpose, and Rachel is the last person they would have left out of something this huge, which mollifies her some, although she still stubbornly wants to know why.
He hesitates, then explains numbly that they chose not to take Cassie along because she was the only one of them that had a real life after the war (then has to tell Rachel what all their lives were, and she laughs and agrees and laughs harder than ever at Marco's, which is the easy and painless one to talk about; is a little taken aback when told about Jake's but rolls with it; accepts Cassie's with a fond, proud smile; is confused about Tobias saying that he "flew away," so he has to explain that he was a nothlit in the original timeline; and then asks, Okay and what about me? What was I doing? Tobias is silent for a long, long time, then he says quietly, You weren't around to come with us. Why not? Rachel demands. He hedges, not wanting to say it, but she presses the point. Finally he meets her eyes and says hoarsely, You weren't around to be around, anymore. Rachel goes still. I died? she asks in a small voice. Tobias can't say it, but he nods, his eyes full of tears and his face actually twisted up in emotion. Rachel nods, swallows, and asks, Was it a good death? No, says Tobias. And there is no doubt in his words. No. A small, sad smile crosses Rachel's face and she says, I mean, was it a brave death? Did it…did I matter? Tobias takes her hand and says, you mattered more than anyone.
For a moment they're quiet, then Rachel says "Thank you." After a minute she draws a deep breath and says, "Tobias? Were you…did you like me?" He pulls his hand away but says, "Yes. More than anyone." Rachel nods, not trying to meet his eyes. "Did you…" She laughs nervously, and says, "Wow, I feel like such an idiot, but I…did you…I mean, like…wow. I guess it's stupid to be nervous saying this, given all…you know, everything, but I'm still…well, like. Did you…did you love me?" "Yes," Tobias says without a second of hesitation, and there are tears on his face and he won't look at her and his hands are clasped together in his lap so tight that the bones are almost visible through the skin, hooked together like a predator's hard talons more than a boy's soft hands. "I know you don't—I mean, I've been trying not to—I'm sorry if I've made it weird, I know we haven't…I know you aren't, like, the Rachel I knew, but…" 
"Am I so different?" Rachel asks wistfully. "No," Tobias says, a soft smile on his face. It looks so different from how he normally looks these days, more like the boy he used to be before the construction site, before the war, but without the sadness that seemed so ever-present then, too. "No, you're really not different at all. Less experienced yet, I guess, but still…still you. You've always been you. The war didn't—doesn't—really change you all that much, I think. It just lets you be yourself, more, in some ways. It hardens you, I mean, like it did to all of us, but you…you're Rachel. You've always been Rachel. The brave one, the strong one, the girl who will stand between her friends and danger and say 'no, fight me instead,' the one who'll throw herself into horrors if it means sparing someone else. That's always been you. The war just…gave you a chance to prove it, I guess. But no, you're not different. Not in any way that matters." 
"Oh," says Rachel. For a while she doesn't say anything at all. He adds gently, "That's why it's been hard for me, remembering that—well, that the me-and-you that I know doesn't exist here. Because you're just so familiar that…well, it's easy to remember Cassie isn't the Cassie she ends up being, where I'm from. But you're…you're so Rachel, it's hard for me. But I'll try harder. I'm sorry. I don't want to make things weird for you. I get it, I promise, I know you don't like me—aren't the girl who ends up liking me, and may never be, and I don't think that you, like, owe me or anything sick like that, I really am sorry, I promise I will try to be less weird about—" 
"No," Rachel says, "No that's okay. I mean…I do like you." She's blushing, picking at her cuticles, head down and hanging behind the curtain of her hair, but even as she chews nervously on her lip Tobias can see a smile poking through around the edges. "Not…not the way you like me, I mean. But I… oh my gosh, I can't believe I'm saying this? But like, I also kind of feel like an idiot for being nervous about saying this, when you've just said you love me? So I guess I'll just…yeah. Okay. So I, uh, I like you too, yeah. I already, um, already had a crush on you, you know? Before…you know, before? Um, if you didn't know. Yeah. Totally…totally a major crush on you, back then. And then, like…all this Animorphs stuff? I mean…you're just, you're really…I like you a lot, okay? Not…not the way you do me, at least…" She swallows. "At least not yet. But I…I think I'd like it if you gave me time for that?" 
"You…what?" Tobias is confused. "You…you knew who I was? Before?" "Uh, duh?" Rachel says, finally looking up at him, and her nerves have been mostly superceded behind amusement. "What, I never told you that before?" Tobias shakes his head. "After I…after I became the hawk, we didn't really…I mean…you talked about me before, yeah. About noticing me. You…told me things about me that you couldn't have known if you hadn't been paying attention, but I…I never realized it was a crush." Rachel blushed but also smiled. "Dummy," she says and takes his hand. Tobias smiles at her. "Yeah," he admitted happily, "I am." 
Later (different scene) Rachel will ask Tobias if they should tell Cassie. Says she feels terrible not telling her, but…but what if she doesn't believe me? Or what if telling her screws something up?  I'm not the one that knows the future—or the past-that-happened-in-the-future, or however we're talking about this—so I don't know, Tobias. I don't know what to do, but she's my best friend, I can't keep this secret from her…can I? Should I? 
Tobias thinks about it for a while; not hesitating, just thinking. Pondering it. Rachel doesn't interrupt him. For as impatient as she can be about some things (most things), she's always been patient with him. Not in a grudging way, with her impatience gnawing at her for action like it does sometimes with Jake, but as though she trusts his thoughts enough to give him time for them to finish. Like she wants to hear what he really thinks, not just the first thing that pops out of his mouth so she can fly off and do whatever she wants in response. So he sits, and he thinks, and she sits with him and waits. And finally he says, No. I don't…I don't think we should. Cassie is…she's a good person. He stops, chewing on his lip, struggling to get the words out. 
"Well duh," says Rachel, grinning, almost laughing, but Tobias shakes his head. "That's…that's what I mean," he says quietly. "She's a good person. The best of us, in that way. In the sense of…well, wanting to do the nice thing, above all. Which isn't always the right thing." Rachel goes still at that, her eyes fixed on his face. There's a troubled expression on hers, but she doesn't interrupt. She still trusts him; she's still listening. The problem is that Tobias doesn't know how to say the words he needs to share. He tries anyway: "There were a few points where she…where she was nice to the point of maybe doing the wrong thing," he says softly. "Never in a way where…well, it was more shortsighted than anything. And it ended up being the right thing, sometimes, in the end. Maybe almost all the times." He shrugs, that awkward little hunched-up motion that makes him look more like a bird than a boy. "But it still…it didn't always feel that way at the time, when the rest of us were looking at the big picture and the sacrifices it demanded, and Cassie was trying to be kind. To be good. Good doesn't…it doesn't always win a war." 
Rachel nods, but there's a look on her face that Tobias doesn't like. There's fear there, but it doesn't seem to be a fear of him. There's not enough surprise there for that. There's a sense of realization about the look on her face, maybe even of horror, but it's not directed at him. It's directed at something within. Tobias is reminded of the conversations he and Future Rachel had near the end of the war, when she talked about how far she'd gone and how far she was afraid she was still willing to go. And the conversations when she stopped being afraid of that, too. He wonders if Rachel has already started having those thoughts, even this early. He wonders if that's because of him, because of what he's told her…or if she was always starting to think about that this young. It's not a question he can ask because it's not a question she can answer, so he says nothing and pretends instead that he hasn't seen; that he hasn't guessed. 
He says instead, "I worry that if we tell Cassie how much of the future we know, she'll want to know…well, things that she's not ready to hear. Things she's not ready to accept." He looks at Rachel, and he realizes that even before she went down into the Yeerk Pool for the first time, even before she got her first morph, she never flinched away from the sharp hawk's glare in his eyes. "We're all going to do—have done—terrible things, make terrible choices. Even with everything Jake and Marco and Ax and I know, we're still going to have to make terrible choices. Maybe even moreso, since we're going to be so much more informed about those choices this time."
For a long moment he's silent. Rachel reaches out and takes his hand and while Tobias's face doesn't change, inside he smiles. "I've worried sometimes what you're going to think of me when those choices come," he confesses, "but only because I wish that I was smart enough to come up with better options this time around, and I know there aren't any. But I also know that you know, and will accept, that we do have to do horrible things to stop the Yeerks from doing worse. Cassie…I'm not sure she ever really accepted that the first time, and she lived through it all with us. Now, with the war so new, I know she won't understand. And if we tell her about the time travel, we'll have to tell her some of what happened, what we did—what we will do—and…and I don't think she's ready to hear that." Tobias swallowed then shook his head. "No, I know she isn't ready to hear it. And I'm afraid of what will happen then."
Rachel just sat there for a few seconds, holding his hand, not pulling away. From the frown on her face she was thinking hard, and Tobias's heart ached at what he knew he was asking her to do. Rachel and Cassie had been driven so far apart by the war the first time around. Was he what was going to drive the first wedge between them now?
Rachel didn't ask him about any of that. She just said, "Okay. You know it's going to come out eventually, though, right? You're all not as slick about hiding this as you think you are, and 'Elfangor put magic knowledge in my brain' is only going to work as an excuse for so long, especially when Jake and Marco and Ax all keep acting like they got magic knowledge downloads, too."
Tobias laughed; he couldn't help himself. "I actually did get a 'magic knowledge download' from Elfangor," he said. "He did that the first time, too. I don't know if it's because I was his son or just because I was the only one who hesitated to run away, but he did. That gave us a lot of crucial knowledge about the Yeerks the first time."
"Oh," said Rachel. She looked shocked.
Tobias's lips curled into an unfamiliar grin. "He did it this time, too, but of course I already knew all that and a lot more now, so I didn't need it…but it does make for a good excuse."
"Okay," said Rachel, "maybe it does, but it's not going to keep Cassie in the dark forever."
Tobias's grin disappeared. "I know," he said. "I'll…I'll talk to Jake and Marco, try to figure out what we're going to do when she figures it out. How much we can tell her."
"Have you told the others about telling me yet?"
Tobias looked away. "No," he said.
Rachel's fingers tightened on his in a reassuring squeeze. "Because I died?" she said and Tobias felt his heart stutter in his chest like an owl had just flown by.
"Yes," he breathed.
He couldn't look at her, but he could feel her arm move against him as she nodded. "And because you're all scared it's going to happen again."
Tobias swallowed. "Yes," he managed to make himself say. He swallowed again and forced himself to add, "And…because we swore it wouldn't. Jake and I, anyway. We swore that no matter what, this time you live."
"Tobias…" Rachel's voice was soft, the pressure of her head against his shoulder as she leaned forward gentle. "You can't promise that. Neither of you can."
"We can," he said fiercely.
She shook her head, the silky curtain of her hair sliding back and forth in the edge of his vision where it dangled forward across his chest. "You can't," she said. "And I don't want you to try."
"But—"
A gentle but unflinching hand came up and pressed his lips shut. It was strange, being able to be silenced by someone stopping his mouth even though his thoughts kept going.
"Tobias, I know you're upset that the other me died. I'm not thrilled about it either, believe me. But like you said, this is a war and horrible things happen. We all have to make horrible choices. Any of us might die at any time, on any mission. Any of us. I don't want you and Jake protecting me at the cost of beating the Yeerks. Yeah, I don't want to die, of course I don't. But I know what being an Animorph means and what it might cost, and I made the choice to stay. Even after you told me I died, I still chose to stay. Okay?"
"Okay," Tobias said aloud, and the word tasted like ashes on his tongue. You don't know, he thought silently, those words so much more real than the ones he spoke with his soft human lips and his clumsy human teeth. You don't know the cost, and you don't know the choices that led to that cost. And I will never, ever let you find out. He turned so he could wrap his arms around her and she let him, relaxing into the hug.
"Okay," Rachel said, smiling in response to the words she heard rather than the vow she didn't.
Never, Tobias swore, and dared the universe to try and prove him wrong.
*from this tag game.
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crashdevlin · 10 months
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Don't Hide (A Witcher fic)
Author’s Note: This is part three of my Witcher series, which started at Opposites Don't Attract and continued to Left In the Cold 
Summary: Y/n finds herself in Poviss, living an almost-normal life in the North. A blizzard leaves her stuck.
Pairing: Geralt x Reader 
Word count: 2330
Story Warnings: a bit of angst, confrontation, some kissing
~~~
Poviss was cold. A Northern mountain territory with residents who weren’t used to outsiders. They were surprised when a witcher approached the gates of Tredam, but you just set your eyes on the snow beneath your boots and stepped past the guards. Your first instinct was to find the tavern, but you stopped at the town message board first. Maybe to find a job. Maybe to find a place to stay. There were several notices for missing cats and dogs, but the page that caught your attention said Shak for rint. 2 rooms plus outhous. Shit at keeping out cold but has a pit. Build a fire. Find me at Bicages Inn. Ask for Liam.
You pulled the parchment down and folded it, tucking it into your shirt. You adjusted your cloak and headed down the mud and stone covered main road through Tredam, eyes on the sign hanging from a building in the distance.
"Yer a witcher?" The man at the bar named Liam barely looked at you as he spoke and you could imagine him wanting nothing to do with you...until you realized that his accent was Skelligen and he wore no symbol of clan loyalty. An exile. An outsider, just like you.
"Yes. I'm just looking for a place to lay low for the winter."
"Ain' there a spot yer kine go ta fer the cold months? Off ta the East?"
Your lips went thin as you pressed them together for a moment. You cleared your throat and looked toward the barman, who nodded at you and grabbed a mug to fill it for you. "I'm not welcome at Kaer Morhen." You pulled your medallion out of your cloak and dangled it where he could see the cat head. "Cats are banned. Lucky me, I'm an outsider even from the other outsiders."
"Heard things 'bout Cat witchers."
"All true," you interrupted. "Foul, chaotic, rude, quite insane, the lot of us. Fortunately, I've denounced much of my teachings. Which is why I'm not in the Southlands with the Cat Caravan."
"Yew got a hundred florins?" he asked after several quiet moments. You nodded. "Yew can have the cabin 'til first thaw, then. Have yer drink an' then I'll take yew to it."
"Thank you," you said quietly before taking a seat on the stool beside him.
The cabin was deep in the woods outside Tredam and it was small, a bedroom and a kitchen and sitting area, but it was more than enough for you. Liam left you alone. You made witcher potions. You cooked in the firepit. You did small jobs around Poviss to earn coin for liquor and food. It was the closest to the simplicity of normal peasant life as you'd ever experience.
Once they got used to your presence in their town, several of the people of Tredam were fairly welcoming, offering smiles and greetings when they saw you. They knew your name. They knew your drink order at the tavern. They knew which herbs you needed before you walked into the apothecary. They knew what book you were reading that week and had suggestions for what you should buy next. They accepted you. No wonder Liam felt comfortable in Tredam.
The second storm of winter was much worse than the first, leaving you stranded in your cabin. Your horse, Daisy, was boarded in the stable behind the tavern and, though you missed your animal companion, you were grateful for that. She would have frozen in the blizzard. You, however, were at least alive in the cabin, fire blazing, bundled in cloaks and blankets.
You sensed movement outside the log walls of the cabin and your brow furrowed. The snow had been falling without stopping for hours. Who, in their right mind, would be out in that sort of weather? And why hadn't you heard them approach?
You stood and grabbed your steel, immediately thinking of Joel. It would be just your luck that Marchioness Woudsly sent another witcher your way. You couldn’t kill another of your brothers. You would die first. But if it wasn't a Cat…
You opened your door with your sword ready and gasped as your eyes fell on the white-haired Wolf you left behind months before. You froze, fingers gripping the handle of your sword as he looked down at you, snow whipping around him on strong wisps of wind.
"Are you going to kill me or invite me in?"
You blinked at him a few times before you sighed and lowered the sword, stepping out of the doorway and dropping your eyes to the wood floor. He stepped in and shut the door, shaking snow off of his hair and shoulders. You bit into the inside of your cheek as you sheathed your sword. What were you supposed to say to him? Did he come to Tredam to find you? Was he on a job? Were you the job? Would Geralt ever take a contract like that? Not against a human, but you weren't human and if he thought you murdered the Marquees…
"What are you doing here, Geralt?" you asked, pulling your cloak around you tighter.
"Did you expect me to stay in Kagen?"
"N-no," you stumbled, moving closer to the fire and avoiding the amber eyes staring at you through the dim light of your cabin. "But I didn’t expect you here, either."
"Obviously." You ignored the tone of his voice as you sat on a small wood stool and warmed your fingers near the fire. He watched you for a few moments before moving to lean against the wall. "You never came back."
"Obviously," you responded, shortly.
"Why?"
You tucked your hands under your cloak and stared at the flames. How the hell were you supposed to answer that? How were you supposed to tell the great White Wolf, the Butcher of Blaviken, the most famous witcher of the time, that you were too bloody sensitive to be baited into a heartbreak at his hands? How could you tell him that you'd never recover from the fall? How could you tell him you'd regretted riding away since the moment you mounted up?
"Why not?" was the answer that escaped you. Not much of an answer, but it didn’t get you killed so it must have worked well enough.
He let out a small sigh and shook his head. "I didn't take you as a coward."
Your eyes went wide, anger immediately racing through your blood. Rage heated your face. At least you weren't cold anymore. "Excuse me?"
"You got scared and you ran away," he accused. "You're a fucking coward."
You leaped to your feet, glaring up at him. "Nothing about you scares me, Wolf!"
He just glared back at you. "Could have fooled me, Feline."
"Oh, fuck off!" You scoffed and threw your hands up. "What the hell are you doing here, anyway? Can't you take a fucking hint? I don't want anything to do with-"
"Liar," he interrupted, stepping closer.
"Gods, you are an arrogant son of a bitch, aren't you? I left you in Kagen because I didn't-"
"Because you're a coward."
"I'm not a--what kind of witcher do you take me for?" He just tilted his head, looking down at you with that frustratingly handsome face. You let out an angry grunt and turned away. "You are infuriating! I came here to get away from you!"
"You admit you ran away to hide, then?" You didn't even have to look to know he was smirking.
"I'm not hiding!"
"Yes, you are."
"I am not!" You whipped back around, glaring at him again. "You need to leave. I don't want you here. I don't want you around. I don't want a wolf in my home-"
"You don't have a home, Cat." He pushed back away from the wall and stepped right in front of you. "This is just a cabin you rented to hide."
"Fuck off, Geralt." You grabbed the cold iron of the door handle and pulled it open. Snow piled up on the doorstep, halfway up the frame. In just the short time he'd been in your cabin, the storm had gotten worse. You couldn’t send him out in that. "Fuck."
"Guess you're stuck with me."
You slammed the door and looked from the fire to the bedroom door. It was the only place to get away from him, but were you willing to risk the cold?
You certainly tried. You wrapped your cloaks and blankets around you on the wool-stuffed mattress in the bedroom. You held out stubbornly, listening to Geralt breathing beside your fire, until the cold overwhelmed you. It was your fire, after all. Why should he get to enjoy it while you froze your tits off?
You refused to look at him as you dropped to the floor beside the fire, grateful for the warmth flowing into your limbs. You sat in silence for what seemed like hours, tension settled over you as the wind roared outside.
"I waited for you," he said, eventually. You kept your eyes on the fire. "I knew you weren't coming back after the second day, but I waited."
"Then you're a fool," you responded quietly.
"A fool to hope, I agree." You rolled your eyes. 'Hope'. He couldn't have really hoped you'd come back. "I waited a week. Until the bard came back to tell me you'd ridden North."
You shook your head. You told Dandelion not to involve himself in your business.
"Geralt…"
"Why?"
You closed your eyes and bit the inside of your bottom lip. Maintaining silence on the issue at hand probably wasn't feasible. Not with him stuck in your cabin. Your hiding spot...because, really, he was right wasn’t he? You were hiding from him…and here he was.
He waited for your answer, didn't press. Witchers were nothing if not patient.
"You don't want me, Geralt," you said, looking over the flames at him. "I'm just a stray Cat that you play with sometimes. I'm not…"
"Don't bring up Triss and Yen."
"How can I not?" You pulled your cloak around you tighter and hugged yourself. "You think I'm just going to ignore them? Or any of the others? You have a type, Wolf. Sorceresses for relationships, whores for fun. Which category do you suppose I find myself in?"
He hummed and focused his eyes on the fire. "Do you...know why I'm called Butcher of Blaviken?"
You didn't understand why he was asking. Everyone knew the story...and anyone with an intimate knowledge of witchers, especially of Geralt, knew that he'd had no choice. "Of course."
"I don't think you do."
"Well...then enlighten me," you urged, curious as to how that massacre had anything to do with the conversation you were having.
He was silent for a few moments before he let out a small groan and looked up to catch your eyes. "There was a woman...Renfri. Not a sorceress...not a whore...a princess." Your jaw dropped a little. "She was one of the princesses marked as harbingers of Lilit. She managed to escape when she was taken to be killed. She was...beautiful, resourceful…"
He looked back down to the fire. "When I met her, she was the leader of a group of bandits. A princess, who should have been a queen by all blood-rights, was stealing for her supper."
"The bandits that you…"
He nodded in answer to your question. "She was determined to get revenge on the mage that ruined her. She asked for my help. I asked her to…" He shook his head. "I asked her to walk away, let go of it. She couldn't. She went after him...any means necessary...go through all who stand in her way...me included. She wouldn’t stop."
You licked your lips and leaned forward. "She was consumed."
"She was the first woman I felt anything for. I didn't think I could feel before her." He looked over at you. "She made me feel...and I had to kill her."
Your throat clenched around the sudden rise of emotion, your brain replaying Joel attacking you. You looked away, tears welling up in your eyes. "I had a brother. I left him behind at Dyn Marv. He was offered a contract on me." You swallowed thickly. "He wouldn't stop either. He was so angry with me."
You took a shaky breath and sighed it out. "I feel, Geralt. And I know you feel things too, but it's different. It's different for me. I'm not a wolf. I can act like I'm just like you but I'm not."
"You don't make sense." He stood and looked down at you. "You know I feel for Yen. You know I feel for Triss. But when it comes to you, I'm a wolf so I'm heartless."
You opened your mouth to argue but he kept talking. "I do feel for you. I care about you and knowing you left me waiting for you in Kagen hurt. Knowing that you decided to hide from me hurt. So tell me, Cat, if I'm just a wolf with no emotions, why was I compelled to find you? Why did I have to see your face again? Why couldn't I stop?"
You stood slowly, on shaking legs. “It’s...just…” You licked your lips, trying to find words, but finding none.
He reached out and grabbed your shoulders, looking down into your eyes. “Don’t.” He leaned down and lightly pressed his lips to yours. He felt like fate. You reached up and wrapped your left hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down to kiss you harder. “Don’t hide,” he mumbled into your mouth as he pushed you back into the wall.
Heat enveloped you as his body pressed into yours. The cold of the blizzard was forgotten. The fear of the future was forgotten. For a moment, everything was okay and you didn’t need to hide.
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Treading On Thin Ice
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Word Count: 8,000+
Warnings: Some language, insanity, frightening sequences???
Summary: A little bit of peppermint bark goes a long, long way.  || Kol x reader || Here lies my Masterlist || Christmas At The Compound 2022 ||
A/N: This fic was requested on Wattpad. The books mentioned and quoted in this fic are The Way of Kings by Brandon Sanderson and A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens. I do not own them. Thanks for reading!
☃️Story Begins Below☃️
Generosity - The spirit and action of freely and frequently giving to others.
"Y/N/N!" 
Rebekah's voice carried your name across the compound and you glanced up from wrapping garland around the railing of one of the Mikaelson's many stairwells. You knew you should have been prepared for when the blonde girl just appeared at the top of the stairs as if having teleported, yet the sight still made you jump. It wasn't your fault though, despite having been raised in the house of a witch. You were really only used to the concept of vampires - not the reality.
"Y/N/N," She repeated. "I need to ask you something."
"Hi, Bekah." You offered her a small smile to show that you were listening. The girl waved her hand dismissively.
"Yes, hello. I-" She paused, regarding the decorations you'd been working on. "Oh, darling, that's coming along splendid!"
You let go of a chuckle at her attitude. Oftentimes Rebekah would forget that she didn't have to be terse with you. "Why thank you, Bex," You said, moving into a mock bow.
"You're welcome." The girl smiled, grateful you understood her behavior. So few did. "Anyway, I wanted to ask if you intended to make any more of those thin mints by chance?" 
You raised a brow. "Are they gone already?" You wondered, amused but not surprised. "Man, I knew those were gonna be popular but I didn't know they were gonna be that popular. I should've made a bigger batch."
Rebekah's smile turned a little sheepish. "Could you make another one? Please?" She turned her pleading eyes on you and though you hadn't intended on refuting her request, you most certainly weren't going to now. You couldn't deny that girl anything. "I don't mean to be demanding, but they were so fantastic."
You snorted and turned back to your decorating with a slight shake of your head. Mass murderers or not, her family was way too good to you. "You're not being demanding, Bekah. Honestly, I don't think you guys ask enough of me, all things considered."
She frowned. "But you're-"
"Pregnant! I know. Trust me, I'm well aware." You cut her off, holding up a finger. "However, one month pregnant is not dead. I'm fine and I feel great. So as long as you guys are providing room and board for me, the least I can do is help out and cater to y’all’s raging sweet tooth's. Savvy?"
Rebekah groaned playfully. "Ugh! I suppose if you must," She huffed. 
“Oh, I must.”
The blonde original's face softened affectionately and she sighed. "Has anyone ever told you how amazing you are, Y/N?"
"No, not to my face. Why? Did you hear something?" You tossed her a wink and she rolled her eyes. "I'll get on those thin mints as soon as I'm done here," You said. "Who knows? Maybe I'll make some Chex Mix too."
The girl's expression lit up and she skipped down the stairs to pull you into a hug. "You're the best Christmas present ever!" She cheered. 
You couldn't help but laugh. Turns out, all those stories about the youngest Mikaelson were completely wrong. She wasn't outright cruel and snide, she was just cautious. She didn't like being betrayed and thus didn't trust easily. However, you had quickly worn down her defenses with your sugary confections.
You pulled away from her arms upon hearing the familiar squeal of the front gates. Elijah was back! Though you turned to greet him with a smile on your face, that excitement quickly dimmed as you caught sight of the grim expression he wore. Beside him, Josh - one of your closest friends since you'd moved in - looked equally disturbed. Something was very wrong.
"Joshua, in the basement you'll find what we need. Fetch them quickly please," Elijah said. His tone was polite as always but it carried an undercurrent that made it clear he wasn't asking. Josh nodded, quick to comply.
Worried, you cast a quick glance at Rebekah - a question evident in your eyes. The blonde just shook her head, lips pursed and brows drawn together.
"Rebekah?" Elijah called from below. Something in his voice was urgent.
"What is it, brother?" The girl demanded, pushing passed you. "What's going on?"
A scowl twisted your good friend's lips and his eyes darkened. "It's Kol."
Rebekah inhaled sharply. "What?"
"He's come back." Elijah's frown deepened. "Kol is here in the quarter and he appears to be in the midst of one of his episodes."
"Oh bloody hell." That was the first time you'd seen Rebekah look truly frightened.
"I know," Elijah sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "We have to get Y/N out of here. Now."
You blinked, feeling a spike of dread slash through your chest. You-you couldn't leave. You couldn't. He was out there. He would find you. You couldn't let him get to you. You didn’t care what sort of danger you were in now, getting torn to shreds by an original vampire would be preferable to allowing that disgusting excuse for a man to ever lay his beady eyes on you again. Elijah had promised.
"It's too late for that!" Rebekah argued faster than you could open your mouth. "If he's already in the city, then he'll be watching us, brother. The second we try to send Y/N anywhere, knowing Kol, he'll probably try to eat her!"
Alright, admittedly that didn't sound like a great option.
"Then what?" The dark-haired original questioned. "What do we do with her, Rebekah? Because, by the old gods, I will not allow that girl and her child to be hurt by anyone, especially Kol."
"And I appreciate that!" You called down to them timidly. "Excuse me, just so we're on the same page, is this the super insane brother who likes to snack on people like I snack on cheese and crackers?"
"That would be the one," Rebekah huffed, frowning. She turned back to Elijah. "If we caught him, could we keep him contained until he rides it out?" She suggested.
Your friend shook his head. "I don't like the idea of Kol and Y/N under the same roof."
"I don't think we have another option," Rebekah said.
“It’s too risky,” Elijah insisted.
“I’ll take that risk,” You spoke up. Your voice shook only slightly and you clutched the railing for support but you stood your ground. You would be brave. 
Elijah sighed again - he’d always taken such good care of you and you loathed to ask him for one more favor but you had to. “Y/N, you know I respect you, but I don’t think you comprehend how dangerous my brother truly is.” 
“Maybe not,” You admitted, shrugging. “But you’ve beaten him before, haven’t you?”
“Only with the help of Niklaus, and only when we’ve managed to catch him by surprise,” He pointed out with a shake of his head. “But Niklaus is miles away, and Kol is expecting us to retaliate.”
“Expecting?” Rebekah scoffed. “He’s not expecting us to retaliate, Elijah. You make him sound passive. This is Kol! You know as well as I that he intends to force us! I’d bet he’s already dropping bodies, so either we subdue him or we lose the quarter!”
Grim realization cast a shadow over your dearest friend’s expression and he nodded his weary agreement. “It’s a trap,” He conceded. The deceptively young man raised his eyes to you again. “Now do you see why you must go?”
“If I leave, then that just plays into his hand doesn’t it?” You noted. “If his whole goal is to bait you into reacting, then-” you jabbed a finger toward your chest “- let’s not hand him extra bait!”
“You know she’s right,” Rebekah pressed softly. He clenched his jaw.
“Please don’t make me leave?” You whispered. “Please don’t break your promise.”
He held your eyes for a moment, then Elijah cursed under his breath and turned to his sister. "Fine, we do it your way," He reluctantly agreed. "Y/N, go to your room and stay there please. Don't come out unless Rebekah, Josh, or myself come to collect you. This is for your own safety, do you understand?"
You could sense the seriousness of the situation in the depths of his pine bark eyes. You decided it best not to question.
"Okay."
It wasn't as though you'd been living with the Mikaelsons for very long - no more than a few weeks really - but even in such a short time, the three siblings you were familiar with had told you plenty about their youngest brother. Horror stories, that was what you'd been told. Even Rebekah, who spoke of the wild Original with the most fondness among her family couldn't deny his thirst for mass slaughter. According to his siblings, Kol liked hurting people. 
That wasn't a concept you could really understand. While it was true that you didn't know him personally and that you had a tendency to see the best in people, you found it hard to believe that Kol could be quite as horrid as his siblings claimed. From what you had been told about their kind by your mother, the Mikaelsons themselves, and Josh, Kol sounded more like a raging addict than a raging psychotic. Though you were probably wrong. Again, your familiarity with the nature of vampires was purely theoretical.
That was why you decided to heed Elijah's orders.
All danger aside, being confined to your room for a few hours didn't bother you so much. After all, you had the entire Stormlight Archive sitting on your shelf, so it wasn't as if you could really get bored. Funnily enough, it was only after Elijah and his sister returned that you found it much harder to remain behind your locked door.
Your head shot up when the first scream tore through the air. Ear piercing, shrill, bloodcurdling, and ominous, the sound alone was enough to set your heart racing. That scream was followed by several shouts.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Get that away from him!" That voice belonged to Josh - he sounded worried, disturbed.
"No!" A different voice cried. "No, Ethan! Don't do it!"
Then that scream came again. It morphed into words. 
"GET OUT OF MY HEAD!" 
"Ethan, no!" Josh yelled desperately.
The scream came once more, intense and unremitting, rising to a crescendo that chilled you to your very bones. Then, all at once, the sound cut off.
You sat there on your bed, frozen. Your back ramrod straight as you clutched your book to your chest and waited. For eight beats of your pounding heart, silence permeated the compound - a shocked, absolute sort of silence. The kind that follows death like a shadow.
Then like a crack of thunder in the night, there was laughter. Sick, horrid laughter. It was rasping and manic, crazed and deranged - unfeelingly cold and slick like ice, there was a hoarse, retching quality to it, lurking just beneath the surface. It echoed off the walls and through your skull, sending a shiver down your spine. The sensation of a thousand invisible eyes descended upon you and your breathing turned harsh and frantic.
The laughing stalled.
"Oh, what fun this is!" A new voice exclaimed, you'd never heard it before and you would have been satisfied never to hear it again. "I do so love a little jaunt through an inferior mind. Perhaps you should mandate vervain intake for your lackeys, Elijah. After all, the least you could do is make it a challenge for me, eh?"
That voice… That voice! It was repulsive - downright sickening. There was no warmth in it whatsoever - no life - only stone-cold death and wretched, scathing, venom. It stole the warmth of the room you resided in. Yet, at the same time, something about the sound was so smooth, so alluring and playful, that you almost felt inclined to listen. Something in his voice nearly goaded you to relax, to trust whoever welded it like a gleaming silver blade. That voice didn't sound dangerous. 
It sounded… tempting.
Perhaps that was what made it so bloody terrifying. You had never felt more unsettled in your life. Not even when he had been shadowing your every step. That man's obsession with you was nothing compared to the stark horror now flooding your senses.
What was going on out there?
The calm timbre of Elijah's voice cut through the air soon after, but his words didn't do much to calm you.
"Why do insist on this bloodshed, brother?" He demanded, voice ragged - patience worn thin.
"Because. It's. Fun."
And that awful laughter came again, seeming to fold in on itself and multiply. Growing louder, almost gleeful, it was manic and maddening, like a pack of hyenas encircling their prey. Locked in your room, you felt trapped yet exposed. What was going on out there? You had to know.
So you did something undeniably stupid. You got up and opened your door. Stealing out into the hall, you swiftly ducked behind a pillar and peeked through the second-floor railing, taking in the courtyard below. There in the center of the compound, a ring of vampires stood around a young dark-haired man. 
He both scared and fascinated you. 
Perhaps you would have thought the boy to be beautiful had his features not been tainted with madness. His thick dark hair seemed soft and you might have liked to run a hand through it had those locks not been disheveled and flecked with blood. His lips might have distracted you had they not been twisted into a vile sneer. His teeth were perfectly white but the terrible, deadly fangs he displayed ruined the illusion. Perhaps his eyes might have been deep enough to lose yourself in, but the curse in his blood and the rage in his heart had corrupted them with a horrific blackness that seemed to overflow, fracturing his otherwise innocent features into the visage of a monster.
Two steel cuffs clad his forearms, these attached to hulking, robust chains that looked strong enough to hold the weight of an ocean liner. Those cuffs burned the skin beneath them, rendering his arms a repulsive mess of scorching red flesh and blood. He hissed and laughed, purely demented, as he tugged and tore at the chains but, positioned on either side, each holding fast to a chain, stood Rebekah and Elijah. Both of your friends had their respective chains wrapped around their arms, struggling despite their teamwork to restrain their brother.
The vampires circled around them each kept hold of their own ropes. The thick cords were wrapped around his throat, others around his arms and legs and yet, all of them together couldn't seem to bring him down. There was one rope, you noted, that had gone slack. You followed the line with your eyes and quickly stifled a scream. A bloody corpse lay sprawled on the ground with a jagged length of wood impaled through his heart - self-inflicted. 
Above you, a clap of thunder shook the sky and the heavens opened, raining down vicious hail though the day had been cloudless only minutes before. This was New Orleans - it doesn’t hail in Louisiana. You shuddered from the cold and the horror, but that disgusting, unhinged laughter only re-doubled.
"No matter what you see or hear, know that it is merely an illusion!" Elijah's voice rang through the courtyard. Bold and commanding, it rose over the unnatural icefall. "Keep him out and you will not be deceived." 
"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about that," The awful voice drawled, sounding so clearly from the boy at the center of it all. He merely grinned.
Within moments, a second scream - not the first you'd heard - erupted from the courtyard. Then another, seconds later. And another one again after that! One by one, shrieks permeated the atmosphere until the cries of the undead were all you could hear. Several of the surrounding vampires collapsed to their knees. There was retching and sobbing, some were choking while others gasped for breath.
Amidst the pain and the chaos, Kol lifted his face to the sky, eyes closed and mouth warping into a grin. And that monster kept on laughing. "I don't think they can help it, Elijah!" He taunted, sadistically gleeful.
"Josh?" Rebekah called over the gathering storm. "Josh, you have to fight it!"
Of all the others surrounding the siblings, Josh was the only one left standing. He screwed his eyes shut, his expression drawn with effort. 
"I-I'm trying!" He bit out between clenched teeth.
You drew in a sharp breath, wishing you could reach out and take your friend away from this insanity. "Josh…" You whispered, still crouched as you watched from your hiding place. 
The monster in the courtyard heard you. His eyes snapped open and locked onto your own. It all happened so fast. 
You had never wanted to imagine what a lobotomy might feel like, but you were certain you received a taste of one then as something - some powerful, vile force worked itself into your mind with all the delicate touch of an ice-pick driven by a sledgehammer. You squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head in an attempt to wrest his consciousness away from yours but your feeble inexperience was pathetic in the face of this practiced maniac, backed by enough raw power to rival that of Klaus. An unnatural chill ran down your spine as any mental barrier you had shattered like stained glass in a storm and the last glimpse of reality you caught was that demented grin of his widening into a bleeding gash across his face. 
"Now, now, now… What do we have here?" That terrible voice whispered into your ear. A pair of hands - soft and warm though you didn't want them to be - settled on your shoulders and you froze. You didn't move. You couldn't move as his hands trailed down your arms and he knelt just behind you. Those hands slid to your wrists, thumbs pressing in to find your pulse. "Human," He hummed a second later, blunt teeth tugging gently at your earlobe, nipping almost teasingly. "How interesting." You didn't understand why you couldn't move! Your body simply refused to respond. "You know, I've torn through quite a few of your kind today…" Kol's mouth moved lower, leaving soft kisses along your throat as his hands shifted to your hips. Two sharp points scraped over your jugular. "Yet, not one of them smelled so sweet," He murmured, that insatiable hunger more than evident in his tone. "What are you going to taste like, I wonder?" 
Finally, you could react. (He let you react. He was the one in control here. Kol wanted to see you run scared.) You cried out, jabbing your elbow backward into his chest and scrambling away from him as fast as you could. The monster just watched, amused, and tilted his head. "Who are you, sweet-thing?"
"Y-you're not real," You stammered, trying to sound brave. 
"Are you sure?" His tone was playful, mocking as he grinned and stalked closer. "I think you should guess again."
He seemed real, he felt real but it was all in your head. Elijah had said so. You could always trust Elijah.
"You're not real! " You shouted, voice growing firm. "Get out of my head and leave me alone!"
His expression soured into a scowl. "Perhaps you're right," He said. Then, in a split second, Kol was behind you. "But I'm not too far away, am I?" 
Your eyes snapped open and you knew he had let you go because those haunting black abysses stared back at you with a promise.
Yet, in the moments you had grabbed Kol's attention, Josh had found his opening. He raced up from behind and jabbed a syringe directly into that monster's neck, injecting him with enough vervain to down three original vampires. Kol roared and threw his head back, clipping Josh's skull with an impact that would have killed any human instantly, but it was too late. His legs soon gave out and he fell to the ground - out cold.
Yet, you found yourself unable to truly process what had happened. You got to your feet, clinging to the railing for support but you didn’t move beyond that. Below you, the other vampires recovered from whatever attack Kol had unleashed on their sanity. 
“Take him to the basement,” Rebekah ordered, letting go of a long breath as she collapsed into a chair. The others nodded and got to work. You just watched them, seemingly unable to tear your eyes from her brother as they dragged the temporarily lifeless corpse away.
“Would you like to tell me exactly what you were thinking,” Elijah’s voice sounded from behind you, effectively shocking you from your stupor. You jumped, turning to face his displeased expression. Yeah, you were in trouble all right.
“I can honestly say I have no idea,” You replied, pressing your lips into a thin line. “It just sort of… happened.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Do you have any idea what my brother could have done to you if he had broken free?” 
“I don’t think I want to imagine that, thank you.” You rocked back and forth on your heels nervously as Elijah’s glare intensified. “But, hey! He’s out for the count, so it’s all fine!” He crossed his arms over his chest and you let go of a nervous chuckle. “How was he so powerful anyway, huh? I mean, that was weird,” You pointed out, gesturing to the storm overhead. Its intensity was rapidly waning.
“The dude was higher than a kite, that’s how!” Josh called up to you. He’d begun cleaning up the body of his fallen friend.
You raised a brow. “What does that have anything to do with it?”
“Kol’s been snacking his way through several states on his way here, and with our father dead, its not like he had to worry about avoiding attention,” Rebekah sighed, rubbing at her temples.
“I mean, we’re talking a kill count higher than my carrer best in Call of Duty,” Josh added. “And that’s saying a lot!”
“Is it though?” You teased.
“It is actually,” He sassed. “Anyway, running on that much death is like running on a concoction of jet fuel, monster energy, red bull, sixty three pounds of sugar, eight tablespoons of the essence of Dwane Johnson, a five hour energy, seven triple espresso shots, and gorilla testosterone… with just a dash of peppermint.”
You blinked. “Interesting metaphore,” You admitted. “Please never say that again.”
He just shrugged grinning. You turned back to Elijah. “So if your brother is that doped up, then what’s going to stop him from tearing his way outta’ this joint as soon as he wakes up?”
“We'll keep injecting him with vervain on the hour until he regains a grasp on his fragile sanity,” Rebekah answered for her brother.
“And if that fails we’ve raised a barrier spell to keep him contained,” Elijah said. His expression softened and he placed a hand on your shoulder, meeting your gaze. “As long as you stay out of the basement, Kol will be unable to harm you.”
Nodding, you bit your lip. “I sure hope so.” Unwittingly you cast your eyes toward the doorway through which Kol had disappeared, and a thread of curiosity tugged on the corner of your mind. You shook it away. “I’m gonna go make those thin mints now.”
For the next week and a half, you did a rather excellent job of putting Kol out of your mind. It was no easy task, mind you, considering the occasional screams of outrage, strings of profanity, and creative death threats that rang through the compound every now and again. (That boy had quite the set of lungs on him.) The death threats especially gave you a good reason not to go wandering into the basement. It wasn't until the tenth day of administering hourly vervain injections, that Josh finally declared the guy "moderately chill". 
"Define, moderately chill?" Rebekah demanded. Elijah had forbidden her from seeing their brother - knowing their presence was only likely to rile him up. But that couldn't keep her from worrying.
Josh shrugged. "I mean, he's not trying to impale me on my own rib cage anymore."
"Wait, I thought you guys said he was restrained!" You said, a slight note of panic rising into your voice.
"Oh, he is," Josh assured you. "Doesn't stop him from trying though."
You grimaced, reminding yourself yet again why going down to see the wild Original was a less-than-intelligent idea.
But two days after that, your curiosity began to outweigh your common sense. You started to pity the guy, he must have been lonely down there all alone - not to mention bored… and hungry. As a person who was quite fond of food, you didn't want to imagine what going without it for a week would have to be like.
Thus, you decided to pay him a little visit and came up with every justification in the book as to why because morbid curiosity was an awful reason. Rebekah had told you that Kol could be really sweet when he wanted to be, so you figured that it certainly couldn't hurt to earn yourself a place in his good graces. Bringing him something to eat sounded like an excellent way to do just that. Besides, you had found a new recipe for peppermint bark and you needed a guinea pig. Elijah and Rebekah were off doing whatever it was they did to keep the peace in the French Quarter, and Josh was on a date. You wouldn't have a better chance.
So, you pushed all thoughts of self-preservation aside and ventured down into the basement, armed with a cookie sheet, a billiard cue, two blood bags, a plate of peppermint bark, and Brandon Sanderson's The Way of Kings.
There wasn't exactly a cell down there per se - just a dingy alcove behind a small archway with a cot set up in the center. Despite it being invisible, you could instantly tell where the barrier spell was. Apparently, Kol had been entertaining himself by attempting to spit past it. He clearly hadn't had much luck as there was a semi-consistent line of dried blood marring the stone floor. It reminded you of something out of Lilo and Stich. Well, you'd been right about the boredom.
Peering through the archway, you studied the boy inside. His wrists were still clasped in those shackles you'd seen before, except now those had been secured to opposite walls. The skin beneath the cuffs was still red and raw, in fact, you thought you could see smoke curling off of it. That had to be painful, though you tried very hard not to pity him. Shifting your attention to his face you were shocked at how peaceful and innocent his expression seemed. He was sprawled across the cot, fast asleep and you couldn't help but find him… cute. This boy looked nothing like the monster you had seen two weeks ago.
You sat down on the floor just beyond the magic barrier and watched him for a bit. Not in a creepy way. You just didn't want to wake him and if you did, you had no idea what to say.
Turns out, you didn't need to worry about that because Kol woke up on his own. He groaned, lifting his head and his eyes fixed on yours. 
"It's you…" His voice was dry and scratchy, though you couldn't expect much less from a person who hadn't had anything to drink in two weeks. Confusion colored his expression initially but within seconds, dark veins crawled outwards from his eyes, spilling down his cheeks and you caught a glimpse of his fangs. You froze as he stared at you longingly. Then he groaned and curled himself into a ball like a child with a stomach ache. Only then did you notice the shadows beneath his eyes and the profound lack of color in his skin. 
"Are you hungry?" What a stupid question.
"Starving," Kol growled miserably. "Come to torture me, have you?"
"No, actually I brought you a snack."
He glanced up, raising a brow. "Excuse me?"
You held up one of the blood bags and his eyes widened. In a split second, he was off the cot and straining against the chains. Their length allowed him within a mere three feet of where you sat and you jumped back. Kol hissed, his pitch-black eyes singularly focused on the bag in your hand. He struggled and thrashed, gleaming fangs on full display.
The color in your face drained away.
There was the monster you'd seen in the courtyard.
"Scared, are we?" He growled, sneering. Those teeth snapped at you with all the power of a hyena.
You didn't reply. You just backed away.
"DON'T YOU DARE TURN YOUR BACK ON ME!"
But that's exactly what you did. You turned and ran from that place as fast as you could, clamping your hands over your ears to block out his voice as Kol screamed insults at your back.
Yet, you found yourself returning two days later. Apparently, Josh's date had gone well and there was some problem across the river that Bekah and Elijah had to take care of. You knew you had absolutely no reason to extend your kindness to that monster in the basement again, especially after he'd so completely rejected it the last time; however, you were a generous person and if he wanted to be a jerk to you then that was his problem. You would keep being kind regardless of how he decided to treat you because really Kol was only hurting himself. He was growing weaker by the minute - starvation had to be excruciating and you were offering him a respite from that pain. He was sure to concede eventually.
So down the steps, you descended once again, moving to sit on the floor just beyond the barrier spell. This time, Kol was already awake. He struggled to sit up, arms shaking, and glared at you viciously. 
"Ah, she's back," He snarled, lip curling with disgust. But it wasn't entirely genuine, you could see the curiosity and surprise shining through his eyes.
"I am." You nodded, holding up the blood bag as you had done before. "And I brought you something."
Kol's eyes immediately turned black, but this time he remained carefully still. "What do you want?"
You shrugged. "I wanna give this to you."
His eyes narrowed as he forced himself to look at you - not the crimson substance in your hand. "What do you really want?" He pressed.
"I really want to give this to you! Unless you try to attack me again, in which case I'll leave and come back tomorrow and the next day and the next until you get over your ego and take the hand that's being offered to you."
Kol scoffed, rolling his eyes. "And why would you want to help me get out of here, darling? First thing I'd do is rip into that pretty little neck of yours."
"Oh, heavens no," You snorted, grinning wryly. "I don't want you out of there any more than you want to be in there."
"Then why offer?" He demanded.
You shrugged. "Well, starvation doesn't sound too pleasant. You must be feeling pretty sick by now."
The vampire's eyes darkened and he scowled. "I don't want, nor do I need your pity, bug," He spat. If looks could kill, you would have been drawn and quartered.
"Good thing this isn't pity."
"Then what is it?" He mocked.
"The fruit of generosity," You answered, “which you have long denied your fellow men.” 
“That’s Charles Dickens,” Kol hummed. “Never did like him.”
A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips. "Well, in that case, think of it as a Christmas present."
"Generosity…" Kol hummed the word, watching you appraisingly. "People will take advantage of that, you know."
You huffed a laugh but there was no humor in it. "Believe me… I know." You knew better than most. You quickly met his eyes again. "But you won't."
He seemed to find that deceleration extremely amusing. "Oh, is that what you think?" He chuckled. "Darling, with that in your hand, I could easily find my way back into your head. I could do whatever I wanted. I could drive you mad."
"You could. But I know you won't."
"Do you have faith in my humanity, sweetheart?" He teased. His grin was a sharp row of gleaming teeth.
"Nope!" You exclaimed. You held up your hand exposing a ring. It wasn't really your vervain jewelry - that was the new ankle bracelet that Elijah had bought you - but Kol didn't need to know that. "I got an upgrade. Smart bug."
He huffed a laugh, amused by your cheek. "The possession of a brain does not make you intelligent."
You just rolled your eyes. "Look, do you want this or not?" You asked, gesturing to the blood bags again. Kol's attention was once again enamored with it. You watched him try to hold back, try to retain his pride but it wasn't long before he broke.
"Fine," He bit out. His eyes flicked to meet yours. "I want it."
"Next time I'll teach you to say please." You smirked and tossed him the bag.
He caught it easily and for the briefest of moments, you thought you caught him watching you. Then that moment was gone and he tore into it, groaning voraciously as he practically inhaled its contents. As soon as he was done with it, you tossed him the next, wordlessly. He downed it without a second thought, and though he tried to keep up the spiteful, angry facade, you could see Kol's relief visible in his posture. 
"Is that better?" You asked as soon as he finished. He just glared and tossed the empty bags back at you. 
Shrugging, you scooped those up and opened the Tupperware container you'd brought with you - the one full of peppermint bark - and shook it.
He watched you for a moment, seething. "Now what?"
You grinned cheekily. "Want some? I made it just yesterday."
Kol rolled his eyes, moving to sit on the cot where he rested his arms on his knees. He watched you with narrowed eyes but took his time to reply. "What I want, darling, is to know who the hell you are."
"Me?" You raised a brow. "I'm Y/N Y/LN."
Kol huffed. "What's a bloody name mean to me?"
"Not too much, apparently," You muttered.
"Who are you? What are you? Why are you here?" The boy in the cell demanded, seeming more curious now than furious. 
"Well, I already told you my name. I'm pretty human as far as I know, and I'm here because I make poor life decisions," You said. It was no crime that you didn't want to tell Kol your life story. He didn't need to know any of it.
"Poor life decisions, eh?" He offered you a wry grin. "Would you mind elaborating on that?"
"Yes," You deadpanned. "Look, I did something stupid and Elijah brought me here. That's all you need to know."
"Why would my brother bother himself with you?" His tone was somewhat accusatory, though you couldn't comprehend why.
You shrugged. "I dunno. I guess it's because Elijah's sorta like my… cousin."
"Cousin?"
"One can never have too many cousins," You said, smirking.
Kol scoffed. "I beg to differ. One can absolutely have too much family."
"True, however, cousins are not immediate family," You countered. "They're more like friends who feel obligated to do you favors."
"Ahh…" He nodded. "I see. So you're a manipulative bitch then, eh?"
Your face soured though it was mostly theatrics because Kol was entirely right. Beneath that frown, you were smirking. "Oh, I wouldn't say that. I prefer the term: opportunist. Plus, I'm not a complete leech. I help out here and there. I dust shelves, sweep floors…" You shook that container of peppermint bark again and shrugged. "I bake... I'm helping."
Kol snorted. "It's cute that you think that."
"Oh, so you admit that I'm cute?" You teased, winking at him.
He raised a brow. "Flirting are we? When you're so fond of my brother? Darling!" He shook his head reprovingly. "That'll get you onto Santa's naughty list for sure. Then again, my brother does have a thing for women who take advantage of him…"
"Elijah?" You balked. "Dude! I just said he's like my cousin… This ain't Alabama!"
Kol chuckled darkly and once again, he was in control of the conversation. The guy was quite good at gaining the upper hand. "Well, in that case, sweetheart, I'd be infinitely more worried."
"Why?" You questioned, narrowing your eyes.
"Because you won't be able to keep this little ruse of yours up forever," He reasoned. There was a sick gleam that didn't belong in such innocent eyes. "Niklaus or my sister - one of them will figure out what really drives you, then you'll be wishing you had the romantic affections of that noble stag to protect you when the claws and teeth come out. My family is not one to be manipulated."
Kol was good at intimidation, that much was true, and his inferences were logical but he needed to work on his humility. That boy had jumped the gun. 
You smirked. "Who said it's them I'm manipulating?"
He blinked, tilting his head. His eyes flicked along your frame, inspecting you again. "Clever bug." He grinned. "This isn't generosity, is it? No, not at all. You're just trying to butter me up."
"Is it working?" You hummed.
"Nah."
"Alright!" You shrugged. You didn't need it to work. Not right away. "I've got some time, want me to read to you?"
"Certainly not!" Kol said. "I want more answers."
"Then ask more questions." You shrugged, mostly indifferent. "But at least be a decent person and try the treats." You loaded up the cookie sheet with a few pieces of peppermint bark and, using the billiard cue, pushed it past the boundary spell. Kol got up, regarding you somewhat distrustfully. Despite the restraints, he managed to get close enough to hook his foot around the lip of the cookie sheet, pulling it closer to himself before bending down and picking up a shard of the treat. He inspected it carefully, then after a moment, cast his eyes back up to yours.
"It's poisoned, isn't it?" He accused. 
You scowled, taken aback. "Of course not! I'm offended, Kol. Honestly, what do you take me for? I wouldn't waste perfectly good vervain on you! Not to mention, that's a vile misuse of perfectly good peppermint bark!"
"Then why are you so desperate for me to ingest this?" He challenged with a sneer.
"Because it's a new recipe," You reasoned, tossing your hair over your shoulder with an indignant huff. "What if it turns out to be nasty? I wouldn't want to feed my friends something subpar, now would I?"
He rolled his eyes leaning back against his cot. "I thought you said Elijah was like your cousin," He said. Kol popped one of the pieces into his mouth idly. He probably wouldn't have done it had he not been so hungry - anything to at least provide the illusion of comfort, you supposed. Yet, he couldn't hide his genuinely surprised reaction when he tried the treat. 
The boy did a double take and a small, yet radiant smile overtook his face. You grinned. Though, a second later, he caught your eyes and wiped that expression away. 
It didn't bother you, however. It couldn't bother you because, though it had been for just a moment, Kol had proven you right. There was more to him than that horrid monstrosity of an exterior. There was more to him than the villain he played. Under all of that, there was a boy - scared and hungry, upset and alone. Beneath the monster, there was a person with the same desires as any other. 
Because this month was December and December is the time when all people just want the same things. Generosity and companionship are the two things everyone wants for Christmas and deep down, Kol was no different.
A few beats passed and Kol reached for another shard of peppermint bark as silence settled between you. Tilting your head, you watched him and, after a moment, you opened your mouth. 
"Bravado," You said, smiling just slightly.
Kol's head shot up. His eyes were wide and weary but not near as sharp nor as threatening as they'd been merely a moment before. He looked more like a child who'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar because you'd seen him. You'd seen past his front and he knew it.
"What?" Kol's voice was hardly more than a whisper. 
You leaned forward, settling with your elbows on your knees. 
"Bravado," You repeated, gesturing minutely to his hands which still shook, though not as severely. "Bravado is the hallmark of insecurity."
It was the wrong thing to say.
Whatever warmth you had seen in his eyes drained away in hardly an instant, his expression growing hard as obsidian as his posture closed off to you yet again. You cursed yourself. You should have known better than to push.
"Get out," Kol hissed, teeth and fists clenched tight.
"Kol I didn't-"
He spoke again, voice taught with barely constrained rage. "I. Said. Get. Out." He kicked the cookie sheet back at you with force and it skidded across the stone floor, nailing your knee hard enough to make you wince.
"Fine," You said, quietly. Then, you gathered your things and left.
Yet, Kol's ire didn't stop you from coming back. You returned, again and again, every day and though Kol continued to take the blood bags from you, he refused to engage you in conversation. This went on for days. Though it wasn't long before you grew tired of it. You had seen something in him that day, and he was trying to forget it existed but you weren't going to let him. 
The next time you descended those stairs and sat on the floor, you waited for him to down the blood bags just as you had every other time. Kol grew weaker by the day, though he was in less pain than he would have been thanks to you. He sat facing you, with his back resting against the far wall of the cellar. You knew he expected you to leave, but you didn't. You held your ground and said what he needed to hear.
"I'm not mad at you, Kol."
The boy slowly raised his head, it lolled to the side as though he hadn't the strength to keep it up. His skin was ashen and his eyes were dull, sunken into his face as though there was some black hole inside him. The breaths he took were shallow and unstable. He was falling apart, yet still, a bitter smirk spread across his face.
"Well that's a first." Somehow his voice, raw and quiet, was more unsettling than the screams you'd heard weeks ago in the courtyard. The hollow whisper worried you more than that unholy laughter had. It made you empathize with him.
"I'm not mad, because it wasn't your fault," You continued.
"Another first."
You sighed, shrugging. "Your reaction was only natural. I would have done the same thing."
"I'm sure you would have."
You took a deep breath. You were about to do the dumbest thing you would ever attempt, yet you weren't all that afraid. Getting to your feet, you approached the barrier spell - the only thing guaranteeing that Kol could not harm you - and crossed over the invisible boundary. Those deep brown eyes followed you, trailing your every step with suspicion and disbelief as you crossed his cell and knelt beside him. 
Kol, starving as he was, didn't attack you. So you offered him a gentle smile.
"It's okay, Kol. It was my fault," You said quietly. Kol froze. "I just got too close, didn't I?"
His eyes grew wide, pupils dilating as he stared at you with an uncomprehending expression. Reaching out slowly, you ran a hand through his hair. The dark locks were dirty and tangled, but soft all the same. Kol hesitated, but leaned into your touch as though he simply couldn't stop himself. 
Leaning in, you pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. "I forgive you."
"Why?" He demanded, watching you with wonder. 
You just smirked. "Think of it as a Christmas present."
"For me?" He coughed, grimacing. "Or for Elijah?"
You sighed. "I'm not here for Elijah."
"Then why are you here?" He looked at you, desperation for understanding showing clearly through those eyes. "My brother hardly bothers with his own siblings if he deems them unworthy of his limitless time." 
"I'm in over my head," You said simply, shrugging. "I think it's what got me in so deep that maybe he saw something in."
"And what was that?"
"Generosity." You smiled - thin as a strand of hair. "I showed someone too much and he turned out to be a creep who took advantage of me. Elijah's making sure it doesn't happen again. That's all."
Kol's expression twisted with confusion, then cleared with understanding. "A-are you-" He trailed off, unsure.
"Oh come on," You said, chuckling slightly. "I know you've heard it by now."
Your baby's heart had started beating three days before.
The boy's bright grin confirmed your statement. He laughed, though the sound was tired. "You're going to make an excellent mother," He said.
You smiled. "Thanks."
Kol leaned his head back against the wall, weak but grinning, and sighed. "So, what's that book you brought with you?"
With a bubbling laugh, you stood and wandered back to the boundary spell where you'd left your stuff. 
"Wait, don't-" 
"I'm not going anywhere, Kol," You snickered, bending down to snatch the book. Then you made your way back to sit beside him. The boy leaned against your shoulder and though it made you just a tad bit nervous, you let him. Carding a hand through his hair, you opened the book and began to read aloud.
"Szeth-son-son-Vallano, Truthless of Shinovar, wore white on the day he was to kill a king."
It wasn't long before you lost track of time. Unfortunately, reading out loud ensured that you couldn't hear the footsteps of your friends when Elijah, Rebekah, and Josh returned. If Kol had heard them, he didn't inform you.
The door to the dungeon swung open on hinges that protested rather loudly and your head shot up from your reading.
"Y/N, I'm going to have to ask you to step away from him," Elijah's cold, commanding voice sounded from the entrance.
You bit your lip. "You know, uh… I can explain this," You promised.
"Can you?" Elijah's glare was a frigid sort of rage and it was concentrated entirely on Kol.
You opened your mouth. "No. No, I cannot."
"I see," Your friend hummed. His eyes flicked to you and you thought you felt just a little of what it might be like to jump into a freezing lake. "Y/N, return to your room at once, please. I would like to speak to my brother."
"Okay." You weren't going to object, not when Elijah was providing your room and board. Though, that didn't stop you from looking back at the boy you'd finally brought to the surface. Picking up the tray off the floor, you gave him a small smile and slid the Tupperware container full of peppermint bark back toward him. Then you left without another word.
You didn't hear anything from Elijah, Rebekah, or even Josh for the rest of the day. You sat on your bed and waited, but the only sound that came from downstairs was an exasperated Elijah's indistinct yelling. Whatever discussion took place in the basement lasted for a few hours, but no matter how many times you texted Josh, all he would tell you was how reckless your actions had been.
The following day, you ventured to the kitchen. You weren't going to stay in your room the entire day. If Elijah wanted to stay put, then you would do so while being productive via baking. That day, you decided to bake thin mints. Tasting one, you hummed as the chocolate melted on your tongue. You didn't even hear the kitchen door open. 
"Might I try one of those?" 
You shrieked, jumping nearly a foot into the air. Whirling around, you were rather surprised to find Kol standing in the kitchen doorway, smiling at you - not smirking, just smiling. He looked a lot better
 "I dunno," You said, returning the expression. "I think you're gonna have to say the magic word."
Kol stepped closer, crossing the room until he stood directly in front of you. He reached out and took your hands in his own, pulling them to his chest. “Please?” He said, in the sweetest tone you’d ever heard. The puppy-dog eyes he gave you were the color of melted chocolate. You grinned.
“Here-” You held up one of the squares. “-Catch!”
Tossing the mint up in the air, you giggled as Kol threw his head back and caught it between his teeth. He winked at you, biting a piece off as he leaned against the counter.
“These are fantastic,” He said. “Thank you.”
“Ah… So he does have some manners - good to know.” You nodded to yourself sarcastically and he rolled his eyes.
“Only for you, sweetheart,” He hummed. “Only for you.”
You chuckled. “I see. Now, do you wanna tell me how you convinced Elijah to let you out on - what I’m assuming is - vampire parole?”
Kol shrugged and tried to steal a second mint but you slapped his hand away. “We made a deal,” He said simply. 
“You promised to behave?” You questioned, raising a brow. “You? Just like that?”
“You seem surprised,” He chuckled. 
“Oh. Well, then I’m not being expressive enough because I am astounded!”
Kol waved a hand dismissivly. “Eh, shouldn’t be too hard, I don’t think - not with you manipulating me and all that.”
You blushed. “Is that permission to keep making sweets?”
“Oh, yes. Absolutely.” 
Snickering, you passed him another thin mint. “Well, in that case, Merry Christmas, Kol.” 
He took it. Then he leaned forward and pressed a kiss sweeter than chocolate to your cheek. “Merry Christmas, darling.”
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Tagging: @yn-ymn-yln @r13mar @rootbeerfaygo @iiskittles16ii @fandomrulesall-blog @dark-night-sky-99 @railingsofsorrow @apolloroid @thatweirdoleigh @misswe03 @eat-cake @felinegrate @trikigirl271 @cute-freak27 @fayeatheart @archangelslollipop @slaypussypop-21
Hey there, people of the internet! If you want on or off the tag list for this series and/or all my other works, just comment or send me a DM to let me know! And if Tumblr won't let me tag you, I'll just send you a friendly DM reminder at your request. Thanks for reading!
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dragongeek1 · 1 year
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Started listening to the podcast TANIS and thoroughly enjoying it, went to see if there’s a tumblr tag presence and although it appears to be a small fandom I’m glad we all seem to agree on a few things:
the writing is a lil heavy handed, esp in dialogue, and not always that great (but we enjoy it anyway)
hell yeah dark mystery vibes dark mystery vibes dark mystery vibes
Geoff van Sant wants to fuck (and Nic is COMPLETELY OBLIVIOUS)
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Text
"Y'know, I used to slightly fear you."
At the sound of the ex-admin's voice, the man of legends head perks up from where he'd been intently staring Winslow down.
"Oh, and you're not anymore?" Herobrine asks, completely at ease and not even acknowledging his ridiculous look; both men wearing cat hoodies at Cassie's request.
Romeo gave him a blank stare. "No."
The glitch gave a huff, "Eh, I suppose you have nothing to fear either way, not being an Admin anymore and all..."
"You didn't hurt me all those centuries ago, though, back when I was an Admin."
The being pokes a finger into the cat's tummy, making him purr, "Had no reasons to, since you clearly weren't going to attack me. Which does remind me- how come you didn't?"
Romeo sorts through a box of things to distract himself a little, "I dunno," he shrugs, "Just... didn't want to?"
"Uh-huh, and completely ignore all those tales and stories and warnings? Huh, never met an Admin who did that..."
He let's out a sigh, "Yes, well, you hadn't done anything before that first time, and... well..."
Hero raises an eyebrow, and Romeo looks away, heat rising to his cheeks in embarrassment.
"Back then, I wasn't... in a good place. It was a mix of curiosity and..." He can't get the words out.
"You didn't care if I hurt you or not, did you?"
He stays silent, which is answer enough.
"Hm, well, guess that's answer enough, no need to dig up old memories for lil ol' me." Hero gives him a cheeky grin, sinking his hand into the calico cats fur. Romeo stares for a moment, lost in memory, when the door opens and Cassie walks in, Aiden behind her.
"Just put those boxes there- careful with that one! Oof," she wipes her brow, setting a shulker down. She gives the two (much) older men a look, "Well? When we agreed to live together, I assumed you'd actually put some work in, now chop-chop!" She gave a ragged sigh, "Jeez, why do you two have so much stuff?! It's ridiculous!"
Romeo gives a fond chuckle, ruffling her hair, and begins to unpack some stuff. Hero watches for a moment longer, eyes shining bright.
He thought about it, really did. But Romeo had come a long way, had even had that breakdown he joked about having all those months ago; the redhead was kind of past that sudden realisation about Terminal. Herobrine... didn't want to ruin the mood. Saying anything would also mean telling Xara, and- and Romeo told him he couldn't do that, sharing his suspicions (which were true) about the Terminal and Fred and everything.
So Herobrine keeps his mouth shut and helps them, giving the large happy kitty one final pet between the ears.
He'd tell Romeo later, when he wasn't still half-broken over what he realised. Right now... right now really wasn't a good time to tell him another Admin had been chosen.
-----
The words really flowed outta me here! Anyway it's been forever since I've posted anything so I decided to do this. It has some of my headcanons sprinkled in. I wanna do some Herobrine/Admin/Terminal headcanon-story stuff but I'm still figuring out how to put it into words
(Also, if anyone wants to ask me about my headcanons, go ahead! I know I'd love to ask people about theirs)
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cassiebones · 1 year
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Open Commissions
Because I got fucked over on my paycheck, I now have just $75 until next Friday. I'm trying to pick up extra work but it's hard, so my commissions are open.
I will write:
Fiction - romance, sci-fi, fantasy, LGBTQ, YA, gore, etc.
Fanfiction - if I don't know the characters, please give me some insight or a video that I can watch to get to know them. You can also see my writing on AO3 and FF.net to give you some ideas of my style.
I will draw:
No pornographic stuff (you don't want me to draw porn, trust
Your original characters
Fan art
Other stuff
I can provide examples of my work upon request
I really need help right now. Food is gonna be tight this next week and a half bc I have so little. Any work is helpful.
If you don't need a commissioned art, please consider donating:
Cash app: $CassieBones
Venmo: Cassandra-Valencia
PayPal: here
Please help me. I am desperate right now
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bisexualdinahlance · 8 months
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Just because an author was a fanfiction writer before publishing ... Doesn't mean that their published original work was based on a fanfiction they wrote. Y'all gotta have more faith in authors than that, we aren't all trying to get r*ylo rpf professionally published
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