#this pronoun lore is not 'canon'

[molagboop]

Thinking about language, gender and Chozo society again. Today, we are discussing what level of cultural importance is ascribed to gender as a descriptor, gendered symbolism/literary tropes, and a unique facet of Chozo grammar.

Massive text dump under the cut. Here be headcanons.

Cultural Symbolism

There's not much in the way of significant Chozo cultural symbolism that's "gendered": unlike some human cultures, Chozo literary/artistic symbolism has no notion of stereotypical male protectors or mothers as a symbol of gentle nurturing and care. The Warrior encompasses the meaning of the first symbol, and the Guardian fulfills the purpose of the latter. However, broader Chozo culture does acknowledge the literary concept of parental wrath (Wrath of the [Mother]*): the idea that a mated pair will viciously defend the nest from threat of predation by beasts or destruction by their enemies.

The Wrath of the [Father/Mother/Nest Guardian/Caregiver] is often linked with the Mawkin practice of parents carrying their children into battle on their backs. Tribal tradition holds that a warrior will display exceptional ferocity in battle if granted a defenseless subject to guard. They believe this is true for most soldiers regardless of their parental status, but especially so for those who have had children, and markedly so for those who are currently rearing one.

The last thing you want to see in battle is a Mawkin soldier with a baby strapped to their back. Chances are you'd come face to face with a new mom covered in blood from her face to her breast, and you wouldn't have time to examine the two large eyes peeking out from the ball of fuzz behind her shoulders before the vertebrae in your neck are separated from the rest of your meat.

There's historical precedence for this trope dating back millions of years, before the Chozo had even developed the advanced technology for which we know them best. Back in ye olden days, the Mawkin had a reputation as fierce protectors of the nest: parents and childless adults alike worked together to care for their communal nests. Parents who weren't out hunting or doing some other task relevant to the tribe's survival and general upkeep would sit among the eggs, cleaning them, rotating them, teaching them the ancestral war songs, etc.

Emphasis was put on mated pairs with eggs to perform incubation duties like egg rotation. When the nest was threatened, these caretakers would drive away predators (or sapient invaders) with ferocity unmatched by their neighbors. There are ancient tales that tell of Mawkin mothers slaying beasts or enemy warriors with their bare talons and stringing up their remains around the perimeter of the nesting grounds as a warning. A sort of meat-driven "fuck around and find out" signal. The Mawkin were renowned as fearless allies, and weaker or less well-armed tribes would appeal to the Protectors to lend warriors to guard their own homes.

The Wrath of the Nest Guardian has little to do with the gender of the protector. It is a vessel at once for two purposes: communicating the Warrior's drive to protect, and linking that drive to the bond between children and their guardians: those who watch the nests. Anyone charged with caring for something weak or defenseless is capable of displaying this strength.

The Role of Gender in Language

Gender is not quite as important in Chozo societal structure as one's role in the community. There are "gendered" words, yes, but they are treated flippantly, and occasionally used interchangeably. "Rook" and "tiercel" are usually applicable to "male" Chozo, while "formel" and "hen" may be applied to "female" Chozo. "Hen" is generally reserved for older individuals who have previously laid eggs, midwives and nursery guardians (regardless of gender), or parents with many children. However, it is not considered derogatory to refer to a younger, childless individual as such.* The innumerable gender-irrelevant uses of the term "hen" is just one example of how loose these words are as gendered indicators.

Linguistically, Chozo language puts less importance in identifying people based on their gender, and more on their role in society. Most "gendered words" refer solely to a partner's abilities in the process of making more Chozo. The aforementioned "tiercel" and "formel" can be loosely used to refer to one with the potential to fertilize eggs and one with egg laying capability respectively, but this really only matters to people when they're looking to bolster their tribe's population with new children. A formel's "motherly duty" ends when the egg hits the nest (See Life on ZDR: Vol. iii for elaboration on the societal perception of family).

Put it this way: there will always be a need for more Chozo to fill the tribe's ranks. But when they are not working on increasing the population, they do not think about "men and women". There is only "Chozo". They share the same flesh, the same feathers, the same keratinized protrusions. They think, they work, they care for their communities with whatever skills they can muster. There is no "difference" between Chozo from an objective standpoint.

There are also no "male clothes" or "female clothes" in Chozo culture; there are only "clothes". Clothing can have many functions, but the Chozo have considered the idea that clothing "should" be worn by a particular kind of person and not others on a physiological basis. There is no stereotypical "male" or "female" body type for Chozo because their exterior physiology does not change between the sexes. There are different body types, yes. But there is no "broad shouldered male frame/hourglass figured female" in the Chozo cultural lexicon. Raven Beak possesses an "hourglass" frame: this says nothing about him to the Mawkin, except perhaps that the bridge between his waist and torso is curved.

In the grand scheme of things, Chozo find gender about as relevant a descriptor as whether or not you possess two kidneys.

That is why the Chozo are so indifferent to gendered language, but in what ways does this manifest in the language itself?

The Chozo's general disregard for gender as a descriptor is reflected in formal language: they put less of an emphasis on gendered pronouns to replace the name of a person or thing and more emphasis on what its role, function, or place in society is. They have pronouns to refer to people from different tribes, as well as doctors, scholars, non-military guardians, and community leaders. Scientists, high ranking warriors, respected warriors, venerated warriors,* medical doctors, professors, and the professor emeritus are all roles that the Chozo feel warrant their own descriptive pronouns, among many others.

The Mawkin in particular have specialized pronouns to refer to their Warlord: the leader of the Mawkin tribe overall, who commands the army and represents the tribe in dealings with other Chozo groups among other duties. Raven Beak may be referred to by his subordinates with "cua" (possessive "cuamahar"). Former Warlords (all of which are dead; there is no such thing as a "retired Warlord" in Mawkin culture. A Warlord must be killed in order for a new leader to take their seat) have "cuar"/"cuarmahar".

This is not to say the Chozo do not have gendered pronouns. They technically do... it's just not strictly gendered. "Ninu" is translated as "he" (in canon), but the Chozo do not strictly use it to refer to "one who is capable of fertilizing eggs": it is also used in cases where English speakers might feel compelled to use "she". It should be noted that "Ninu" does not function as (plural) "they/them" in English, for it is a singular pronoun. "Hum" is the (canon) plural pronoun for describing a broad group with no singular identifying feature, as "they" and "them" are used in English.

Most other pronouns that don't describe one's role in the community are some derivative of "of the people", which makes no reference to an individual's identity on a singular, personal level.

One such word is "ne", which is "individual", and is used to refer to a single person (often used where English speakers would expect to use "he" or "she"). This pronoun is derived from "nehasa", roughly "one of the tribe", with "-hasa" being derivative of "hasana": "tribe". There are tribe-specific variations of this word. The Mawkin have "nemawk" or "nemawkin": "of the [Mawkin] people", and the Thoha have "netho" or "nethoha" ("of the [Thoha] people"). Altering these niche pronouns to their possessive form is as simple as removing any obstructive consonants at the end of the word to make way for the appropriate suffix: "nema(w)mahar" and "nethomahar". It was collectively decided long ago that exactly how many consonants should be removed from a tribe's name for their pronoun is a matter of making the word comfortable to say: nobody wants their Elders tripping over their own tongues in polite company.

For the sake of convenience, these tribe-specific pronouns are usually reserved for describing heroes or historical figures. A couple thousand years before Raven Beak was born, Chozo society at large was far more strict about using tribe-affiliate pronouns in regular speech, particularly at events where the different tribes gathered. Nowadays, the Chozo use normal pronouns in place of these tribal indicators for the sake of convenience. This lessens the risk of a nervous speaker accidentally associating the War Councilor of the Hotu with the War Councilor for the Albis and causing tension during negotiations.

"Ne" and "ninu" are functionally interchangeable in many cases, and the matter of which one sees the light of day during conversation depends entirely on which regional dialect is being spoken. Some tribes exclusively use "ne" and don't bother with "ninu", and for others, it's the opposite. Whether or not a Mawkin uses "ne" or "ninu" is determined by their upbringing or the manner of speak prevalent in the subculture an individual is apart of.

On ZDR, "ninu" is common planet-wide, but diplomats who travel off-world to meet with other tribes, construction workers, miners, and the fast-talking rural cliff fungus cultivators all have a tendency to use "ne" in everyday speech. "Ne" rolls off the tongue far quicker than the two-syllable "ninu" (which is partly why "ne" gained use in old cliff fungus farmers in the first place).

The major difference here is that "ninu" can sometimes be translated as a gendered pronoun, and "ne" has absolutely no potential to be. It's easy to translate "ninu" as "he" in a sentence that makes no explicit reference to gender, but you can't do that with "ne". "Ne" refers to an individual and is almost wholly nondescript on its own. Think of it this way: every time "ne" is used, picture the speaker gesturing to who they're talking about and referring to them as "this one" or "that one". You know who it's referring to, but the word "ne" in and of itself offers no description of the person it's referencing.

The nondescript nature of "ne" is almost comparable to the English "it", but "ne" isn't used to mean "it" in Chozo: the Chozo "ne" refers to a person, while the English "it" refers to a thing. In English, if you use "it" too many times in a paragraph and make no reference to what "it" is, somebody could get lost and ask "what's 'it'?"

You can elicit the same kind of response by using an English gendered pronoun too many times without referencing who you're talking about, but in that case, the gendered pronoun has a description, unlike "it". Excessive use of "him" doesn't tell you who "he" is, but you know the perceived gender of the person in question despite not knowing his identity: you have some form of information.

The Chozo "ne" offers the same amount of descriptiveness as the English word "it" (which is next to none), though they don't mean the same thing. "Ne" is like the "it" of the Chozo pronouns that are used exclusively to refer to sapient people. "Ne" and the Chozo word for "it" are entirely separate: we don't have a canon word for "it", and I don't feel like making one up right now, so I'm going to leave you wanting more on that.

The ne/ninu dichotomy doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things, but it's an interesting cultural phenomenon. Linguistic rules can bend to the will of the speaker: hence why the Chozo throw "ne" and "ninu" around seemingly wherever the heck they want. And descriptive pronouns, which the Chozo put more cultural emphasis on than any form of gendered language, are largely considered a part of formal speech. You use descriptive pronouns in writing and when it's considered respectful: you wouldn't dare refer to the High Priest of the Ancestors with "ne" during the sunset rituals, but you don't always need to refer to your best friend (who is also a doctor) with their set of job-specific pronouns while you're just hanging out. Referring to your friend Jon Doe as "the venerable Dr. Jon Doe" while you're out for drinks sounds a bit stuffy. "Ninu" is a less loaded way of gesturing to someone without using their name.

Why is this so complicated? Why can't they just make it easy and use words we can reliably use to say "he/she/whatever"? Because the Chozo are long-lived and care immensely about acknowledging one's experience and expertise. The Chozo want you to refer to their doctors as doctors in the appropriate situations because these individuals have spent many years accumulating comprehensive knowledge of their field, and the Tribes believe that is worth acknowledging. The doctor's gender is not an accomplishment: their vast knowledge of pulmonary systems and their contributions to society are.

If you want an easy way to say "this person" without worrying about fancy honorifics, just use "ninu" or "ne".

* Terms nestled within square brackets are loose translations of a Chozo phrase. In the case of the Wrath of the [Mother], the word within the brackets is fluid and context-sensitive. The trope is not always referred to as Wrath of the Mother: the last word is either replaceable or the closest English equivalent of the original Chozo.

* There are no gendered insults in the Chozo language. Instead of having countless different slang words for genitals to sling as profanities or words used to define "a disagreeable [man/woman]", many insulting words and phrases in the Chozo language revolve around failing to perform at one's task or being a disgrace/dishonor to one's tribe. If I continued, I could branch out into a connection with Mawkin death/funeral-related lore, but that is a topic for another day.

* These different categories of warrior are not considered the same; the Mawkin are especially pushy in differentiating between them. "High ranking" is an army thing (think officers and special ops with a public face), "respected" is a matter of martial skill and reputation, and "venerated" refers to old warriors with an emphasis on those who are "retired" (i.e.: no longer serving the tribe in a combatant role) or recognized as highly decorated war veterans. The pronouns used for non-Warlord high ranking military officials are also used to refer to highly specialized (usually smaller) arms of the Mawkin army, like the subterranean ops, whose training revolves around scouting/securing locations such as caves and tunnels on foreign planets and such. They're the ones who go into these enclosed environments before researchers or soldiers from the greater army. In this case, the pronoun isn't used to refer to any of the individuals within the branch, but rather referring to the branch itself in conversation.

* It is optional to refer to Raven Beak with cua pronouns; they are considered formal. It's a bit like using usted instead of tú while speaking Spanish. Some Warlords care more about the address than others; Raven Beak takes it fairly casually, except during occasions when formality is a necessity. In contrast, High Lord Stone Breast would take offense with people using anything other than cua to distinguish him during his reign.

In fact, the usted/tú comparison can also be made with every fancy job-related pronoun. A student refers to their professor with the descriptive pronoun for her title because she is respected and they are in an academic environment.

[ffc1cb]

i’ve always found it peculiar how during meeting the chargers cutscene the game just assumes your character automatically understands what krem is talking about when he mentions binding (though, granted, it’s all very unsubtle). like, this is a roleplaying game. what if i want to play a character who just doesn’t get it

[canyoureallycallthisablog]

Galacta's death was... greatly exaggerated

[emotional-mess-in-distress]

Trying to help out with the mail lol

I added these ears to their design cuz I wanted to make their species a little more ambiguous then just dog like Barnaby lol

I still gotta simplify it a lil bit. The design is a little complicated compared to the other characters 😭

[moonlightrift]

thinking about this image

[sotogalmo]

9:51

Thinking of like. I dunno-

How to expand on Yard Fire with many its Fantasy elements (all from Evillious Chronicles itself) (it's having demons - Gods. And so, there has got to be some angels, ,, smth smth. Rituals and making contracts with demons or those like demons).

Also it has like..magical items. So like ,, yeah

I need to work on the whole world first then I can work on the characters (tho the world is already set inna way. ,,)

But maybe I can just always expand/experiment with Garreth & Michelle ,, (they are like. The main starting points of why I even made this AU in the first place (moreso Michelle actually!) and just much more has been dumped about them to three of my friends (@send-me-a-puffalope , @blizzardstarx & @thesharktist ) ,, so,, yeah👍✨)

[vaugarde]

unprompted pmd oc lore thats sorta based on rescue team dialogue cause im thinking about it: the proper pronoun to use when you don't know a pokemon's specific gender is actually "it/its", not "they/them". In some cases it's considered disrespectful to refer to some legendary pokemon as anything other than "it".

[neekrobite]

Bro your OCs are around 30???? 21 is YOUNG to you? You’re OLD!

ite so canon ages for my characters

trix is 36, she can shift between being a zoroark and zorau at will, she seems pretty average age tbh

puzzles is 34, shes friends with trix

sap and necco are both 21, despite me being 18, and them both being fursonas and yea they are young i think personally

swift is 24, also pretty young tbh

cals is my second youngest character who is 20

honeydew is freaking 64, they are also, in fact, a parent

neekrobite is 18, he's just my age lmao i just up it everytime its my birthday, probably gonna do the same with the plus 3 years too for necco and sap tbh

and litchG is fucking 223 shes an old ass bitch

oh yea also blanks like 2 years old canonically because it is just a living drawing lmao

[comparativelysuperlative]

I always thought @strictlyquadrilateral's "the light that cleanses also burns" reads like a dramatic prophecy of doom, because I like dramatic prophecies of doom. But on second thought it might land better as an incongruously upbeat children's rhyme. So, how do you read it?

[twilightstarr-zinnia]

Watched Lyney's trailer. Fun little magic shenanigans, haha! Wait. Hold the fuck up. What's she doing with the moon? The sky is a lie!

[hearthomelesbian]

im never not thinking abt the hsy -> yjh -> kdj (oblivious) transgender pipeline. extended this also looks like hsy -> yjh -> kdj (oblivious) -> jhy -> kdj (POINTEDLY IGNORING). btw

[thebifrostincidentlive]

the worst part of having to make a new email is losing all my google docs cuz i wrote an entire thing of techno breaking into the prison to beat the shit out of dream for killing tommy and i cant find it now and it was SO GOOD

[suncharliey]

I think it ate some organs today...

[sotogalmo]

5:44

@thesharktist . I've told ya about st.Mike so here (s)he is!

(~12-31yrs old in this drawing)

Micheal Aruther-Blavnkeberry

the “Demon Child.” — “Snake Hair”, of his village.

The reason why he looks like that in the second drawing is due to his way of healing and his way of proving for Abby. ; he hid as a woman, since that would surely get the people's attention. To help a single mother and her infant/toddler daughter.

And it did.

She was now able to provide for Abigail.

She started to work in a church, or anywhere she was able to work at.

She then became known by the name of “Sister Michelle”. (Mike has been .. left for dead.. in a sense)

She had outgrown her hair, ... Due to private reasons (‘i like your hair ..’ he said out of the blue. A prince said. A Prince. .. why?) . But one she says most is that she likes her hair long.. because she likes to style it and play with it.

Michelle is the only one that Abigail has known for all of her life. — (Mike, ever since being alone with Abby, had grown some conflicting thoughts. But.. I mean. Mike was raising her alone. .. so, what did he really have to do? Leave her to die? ... He gained a sort of protection at that thought. Abigail? Sweet little Abby? Dead? No! He's not going to let her die, just like what his parents might've wanted from him..) — And the only times She has heard of Mike, and only seen old drawings (ones that Garreth has made in honor of Mike becoming more and more comfortable with him and how open and sociable Mike was becoming! They were also birthday presents!). But never really met him.

The only times she can say she met him, was how sometimes Michelle(her mom) would get very depressed at times. Voice low, and never really talking that much.

But .. time gets better. Michelle and Abigail grow together. Mother and Daughter. (They make friends with Vanhumrigh/Vanessa)

[shirogane-oushirou]

🩷,💌, and 🎁 for the emoji asks? :D

tysm caitie for the ask!!! ☺✨💕

gonna go for a change of pace and talk about my main man oushirou, my beloved freak of almost 15 years. gives him a little kissy. mwah.

🩷 for a headcanon about f/o.

the desire to seem non-threatening is what got him to start experimenting with things like his looks and his weird-funny-guy personality... then he crossdressed for the Funnies once and realized it was fun, actually... then he started being a little more flamboyant because it came naturally to him... and this was all in the gender-rigid environment of the all-boys-except-tsukiko seigetsu academy.

so as soon as he graduates to go to college, get an internship, enter the journalism field, travel all over the world... he realizes how even HIS view of the limits of expression are... well... limited. he feels more free to try new things, wear bold patterns, paint his nails, do his hair in even more interesting styles. as he learns new languages he also learns all new ways to describe gender and expression and sexuality. in the end, he realizes doesn't really need defined labels; he's simply oushirou, and he's going to look beautiful and handsome and charming and sexy and flirty for anyone and everyone who's willing to give him their time.

when he shows up at the 10 year seigetsu reunion, wearing a zebra stripe suit with polkadot tie, red aviators, black nails, and an intricately styled hair-do, it catches everyone a little off guard... but they quickly lean into the bold changes when they see just how much more comfortable and self-assured he seems.

(tl;dr: i hc him as genderqueer and pansexual lol. and he has a VERY nonbiney fashion sense ksjnkjnsf which is canon but like. they didn't INTEND for it to be typical nonbinary fashion, they just wanted him to be a little weirdo man. no, sorry, i'm The Oushirou Guy (tm) and i declare he's Gender.)

💌 for a snippet of a conversation we had.

(ngl i'm extremely brain empty, so i'm actually going repurpose and rewrite part of a prompt i did in... uh... 2012????? jfc i'm a selfshipping grandpa.)

“Kehe! What, are you afraid to show a bit of leg, sweetheart? You know I’ve already seen them before right?”

The door closes, and the red-head strides over to the bed and, with a grunt, plops himself down where Ro’s feet end under the covers.

“Doesn’t mean you just get to see 'em for free, you know! B'sides, if I ran around half-naked all the time I don't think it'd stay entertaining for long.”

“Oh, you doubt the power of a true pervert? Kuhihi~”

He begins to move, and Ro closes their eyes and tenses, preparing for the usual onslaught of wriggling fingers and wet, sloppy, gross kisses...

The weight on the bed shifts, and two warm arms wrap around their waist.

A quick kiss at the corner of their eye.

“…Did you get a lot of work done?”

Their shoulders relax, and a sigh escapes them as they look up into his face, much closer now than it was before. “Enough…I guess. It’s hard to say at this point.” The work of a freelancer is never done, after all.

“So then,” his hands slowly, gently travel up and down their arms, “how about a nice, relaxing, eight-to-ten-hour sleep break with me, hmm?” He moves his head to the crook of their neck, nuzzling into it. Ro brings one hand to his long hair and begins running their fingers through, the other rubbing his shoulders and back. “Just you, me, and this big ol’ comfy bed. Ah, and your pants-less legs, of course~!” He grins against their neck.

“As long as you don’t look at them, mister.”

“Oh c'mooooon, don’t pull the ‘mister’ thing on me right before bed! It makes me feel so oooold and formal. You’re so mean, sir.” He looks up from his comfortable neck-crook long enough to wipe a fake tear from his eye and pout at their serious face.

A few seconds pass, the two staring intensely at each other, before Ro huffs and breaks into a small smile. They lean forward and give Oushirou a light peck on the lips, and as they lean back to lie on the bed, his lips eagerly follow theirs, wanting more.

🎁 for a gift f/o has given s/i (or vice versa).

he travels all the time, all over the world, so he tries to bring back little trinkets from all of the places he's been. just tiny painted keepsakes. i keep them displayed on a shelf as a reminder of just how much he's been able to do, how far he's been able to go, and how many people he's met.

and while bringing back cooked food with him would be... difficult, he does sometimes bring back interesting recipes from those who are willing to share. when we meet up again, he buys some ingredients, borrows the kitchen, and cooks something to allow me to experience a small taste of the places he went to.

[1-imaginary-girl]

Wolf Bite

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader

Summary: During a fight between your friends and Klaus and his hybrids, you get bit. A certain someone appears later to help heal your wounds and complicate your feelings. Reader uses she/her pronouns.

Warnings: Violence, fluff

Word Count: 4850

Part 2

A/N: I have been obsessing over Klaus lately and thought I would share this passion with you guys. I haven’t seen TVD or TO in a while so I apologize if I get anything wrong about the lore. It doesn’t follow any canon plot, just inspired by Klaus healing Caroline’s bite.

You’re leaning against a wall in the Salvatore brothers’ house as the rest of your friends talk about their newest plan to threaten Klaus and his family. The idea seems foolish to you, but you know better than to voice your opinion. Ever since the Mikaelson clan moved to town, being a vampire has gotten a lot more complicated. You’re suddenly not so immortal when there’s a whole group of people out to get you and your friends.

You’ve also started to notice a shift in the group as Elena now has feelings for both Salvatores. You’re well aware that your presence has slowly started to go unnoticed and yet here you are again. You watch as the group argues about how to lure Klaus and co. to the woods where you’ll meet him.

“What if we send someone to his house to deliver the message?” Elena suggests. But Stefan shakes his head.

“No, it’s too risky,” he says.

“Not if we send someone with a white oak stake for protection,” Caroline says.

“That would ruin the plan,” Bonnie says. There’s a silence as the group thinks of a new idea. Until Damon speaks.

“What if we get Y/N to call him?” Damon says, looking at you for the first time today. Your eyes widen as the rest of the group now looks at you. As if they weren’t just ignoring you.

“What? N-no way,” you say, not prepared to be put on the spot.

“Come on, he’s clearly shown an interest in you. Now’s the time to use that,” he argues. It’s true. Ever since you first met, Klaus seems to have taken a liking to you. But you think the group’s making it a bigger deal than it is. You think he just does it as a way to annoy the group. Though why he chose you instead of someone like Caroline or Bonnie, you’ll never know. 

“I don’t want to do that,” you say, not wanting to explain exactly why. You’re not even quite sure yourself. “Besides, it probably won’t work. I mean, I don’t even have his phone number.”

“Oh right,” Damon says, furrowing his eyebrows as you throw a retch in his plan.

“You could deliver the message in person,” Caroline suggests. Your jaw almost drops.

“Wait, so it’s too risky if someone else goes to the house, but not me?”

“Come on, he won’t hurt you,” Damon says. You’re beginning to think being a wallflower was the better option.

“We all have to help, Y/N,” Elena says. You choke on your words as you look around, seeing no one objecting to this plan.

“Wait, you guys my message spell!” Bonnie exclaims. Everyone turns to her and you are relieved to be out of the spotlight as you lean back against the wall. “I need paper, something to write with, and something of Klaus’s.”

Though you are currently mad at all of them, you decide you’re mad at Bonnie the least so you open your bag. You’re able to scrounge up the materials, even something of Klaus’s (you didn’t ask). With the necessary ingredients, Bonnie performs her spell and the written note lights on fire before quickly disintegrating. She opens her eyes.

“That should do it,” she says.

“We should go,” Elena says and everyone agrees.

†††

The group is waiting in the woods for Klaus to appear, as is expressed in the letter. Another argument broke out on the way here as to who will get the white oak stake as you only brought one to threaten Klaus with. The group didn’t want to risk any of the other stakes. In the end, Damon won the argument as he reminded Stefan his responsibility was to look out for Elena, which she did not like. The rest of you are armed with regular stakes just in case anything happens.

“When is he going to get here?” Caroline says, though no one answers as no one knows. “I mean, how can he even find us? We’re in the middle of the woods!”

“He can probably track us by seeking out Elena’s blood,” Damon says which angers Elena. Sometimes you feel bad for her being the only human amongst the group (other than Matt), and other times you envy her for it.

When the group is about ready to give up, you hear something coming. The other vampires can hear it too and you ready yourselves. Soon enough, Klaus stands before you with a smile on his face. “Well, well, isn’t this a nice surprise? I hadn’t realized we were pen pals,” the Original says. His eyes rake over the group and he perks up when he spots you. “Hello love.”

The others glance at you and, panicked to be on the spot again, you say, “Uh, hi,” with a small and awkward wave.

This causes Klaus’ smile to grow wider and seemingly more genuine, and you try to suppress the urge to blush. Although you don’t think your friends were pleased by that interaction.

“I assume you know why you’re here,” Stefan says, bringing Klaus’ attention back to the group.

“Ah yes, the cryptic message,” Klaus says. “So, what is it that I must see? Truly, I’m dying to know.” You see Damon smirk.

“I wouldn’t act so cocky,” he says.

“Oh, and why’s that?” Klaus says with an entertained look on his face. His face changes, however, when Damon reveals the white oak stake. His cocky attitude shifts quickly to fear and anger. “Where did you get that?” he growls.

“Well it turns out when your sister burned down that bridge, she didn’t realize that other things were made from your precious oak tree,” Damon taunts. He’s exaggerating, of course, as there was only one other thing made from the tree. But Klaus still looks fearful.

“So what? You really think you can kill me with one stake?”

“We don’t intend to kill you. At least not now anyway,” Caroline says.

“We called you here as a threat. To tell you to leave Mystic Falls or else,” Stefan says with a calm smile on his face.

“Oh, and this isn’t the only stake. We wouldn’t risk bringing all of them with us just for you to break them,” Elena says.

“You’re bluffing,” Klaus sneers.

“Care to find out?” Damon asks. You can practically feel the steam of anger rolling off Klaus.

“How dare you threaten me,” Klaus says, his blue-green eyes turning a deadly shade of yellow.

“What are you going to do about it?” Damon says with a taunting smirk. Klaus’ face shifts and he smirks back.

“Why I’m so glad you asked,” he says. He then lets out a whistle and some of his hybrids emerge from the woods. You widen your gaze as you hold out your weapon, trying to assess the situation. The hybrids move in closer, and you can see the others preparing themselves. “Now, let’s try this again. Hand over the stake, and no one gets hurt.”

You thought the answer would be obvious. Sure, Klaus might be bluffing but you can’t kill that many hybrids. And what’s one lost stake anyway? However, you seemed to be the only one thinking that.

“No thanks,” Damon says. You look at him incredulously.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Klaus says. As soon as Klaus advances, his hybrids pounce and the group is thrown into an attack. Your weapons will only slow the hybrids down, but your best hope is to get the upper hand and snap their necks to incapacitate them.

Damon and Klaus immediately face off. The rest of you prepare to face the small army of hybrids while Stefan protects Elena. One of the hybrids locks onto you and hisses before attacking you. You instantly try to hold the hybrid off and stab her, but you can feel her overpowering you in strength.

Still, you rely on your moves in combat to avoid any major injuries or worse, her bite. You manage to get the upper hand and stab her through the stomach, and while she’s slowed down, you move to behind her back and snap her neck, knocking her out for a good while.

You’re trying to catch your breath when you sense another hybrid coming at you too late. He pounces on you and you slam into the ground with him on top of you. You’re caught off guard and without your stake. When you try to move to fight back, the hybrid digs his teeth into your shoulder. A short scream rips through you, powered both by panic and pain.

Meanwhile, Klaus is fighting Damon when he hears the scream. He looks your way as he feared it was you, and the scene causes his eyes to widen. With a newfound urgency, Klaus faces Damon and quickly finds a way to snap his neck.

As you’re panicking from the bite, you feel the hybrid being pulled off of you and you see Klaus with a furious expression. The hybrid is very confused by his sire’s anger. You think you hear Klaus growl, “Not her,” before snapping their neck.

You’re shocked at what just happened all at once and remain on the ground, sitting up with wide eyes looking at Klaus. He looks away from the hybrid to meet your gaze and his eyes instantly soften. He looks concerned, though you’re not sure why. He makes a move to walk toward you but before you can say anything, Caroline rushes over to you.

She quickly puts herself between Klaus and you. “Stay away from her,” she hisses at him. Klaus’ expression shifts back to anger, and before you can explain to Caroline what’s going on, Klaus’s gaze flick from her to you and then he sprints away. Not just away from you, but he leaves the forest. The hybrids that haven’t been incapacitated follow.

You look after him, longing to talk to him and figure out why he saved you, when Caroline’s face comes into view. “Are you okay?” she asks while helping to pull you off the ground. You nod and you guess that’s enough for her because she walks towards the rest of the group.

You’re a bit stunned as Klaus seemed to show more compassion than your friend, but you merely shake off the exchange. From the woods, the group heads back to the Salvatore’s place. You trail behind them, your mind racing as you’re overly aware of the fact that a werewolf bit you. Not just a werewolf, but a hybrid. You haven’t told your friends about it because you don’t want to be a bother to them as that’s all you feel like you are these days.

On the way back, your mind wanders to the one person that seems to be on everyone’s minds these days. Klaus. You don’t know why he saved you, even from his own hybrid, but you want to thank him. You know you should hate him like the others do but for some reason every time that man looks at you, your stomach erupts into butterflies.

You feel awful for how you feel, you know all the harm he’s caused to your friends and not to mention the world, but you can’t help it. It doesn’t help that he pretends to be soft on you either. You haven’t told anyone about your feelings, whatever they are, for fear of persecution but you can’t stop thinking about him.

You arrive at the Salvatore’s and the group huddles in the living room for a quick debriefing of what just went down. All the while images of Klaus and your bite flash through your mind. You look at your shoulder and you can’t see the full damage as it’s covered by your shirt but you know it’s not good.

“How are you holding up, Damon?” Caroline asks teasingly. He glares at her and rolls his neck.

“Doing just great thanks,” he says.

“What the hell even happened?” Elena asks. “I mean, why did they just leave?”

“All I know is, one minute I’m holding my own against Klaus--” Damon says and to this you hold back rolling your eyes. Klaus must’ve been going easy on him, toying with him. “--and then he gets this raged look on his face and boom, lights out.”

“He went to Y/N,” Caroline says causing all of their eyes to stare at you again. You bite back your annoyance at her for bringing that on you.

“What happened?” Stefan asks while the rest of the group waits. The image of Klaus looking at you causes your face to heat up and you struggle to come up with a lie. You don’t want to tell them the truth when you yourself haven’t even gotten to the bottom of it.

“I-I don’t know,” you say. They still stare at you. “Maybe he was mad at me for harming his hybrids.”

“There were two knocked-out hybrids beside her,” Caroline adds. The group looks at you with a mix of shock and amazement.

“You knocked out two of them?” Damon asks with surprise and slight amusement. You don’t want to outwardly lie so you just kind of nod.

“And then he just left,” you say.

“It still doesn’t make sense. I mean, why target you specifically?” Bonnie asks.

“Maybe he’s miffed his lover betrayed him,” Damon says and your face turns beat red.

“W-What?! I am not his—” you burst out in surprise until someone cuts you off. No one even looks your way.

“Or maybe he’s planning something,” Elena suggests. The rest of them start diving into conspiracies but your mind is elsewhere. You suddenly feel drawn to look at your bite. The more you look at it, the more it’s like you can feel the venom pumping through your veins. Your heartbeat is suddenly too loud and you feel like you can’t breathe.

You don’t know if it has something to do with the venom or just your overall panic, but all of a sudden, the world goes black.

†††

Your eyes slowly open and your vision is blurry at first. Figures stand over you and after blinking a few times, you recognize your friends.

“She’s awake,” Elena says, as if everyone isn’t seeing it for themselves. You realize you’re lying on the Salvatore’s couch. You wonder how long you blacked out for.

“What the hell Y/N?!” Caroline instantly yells at you. You flinch at her volume but she doesn’t seem to notice. “Why didn’t you tell us you got bit?”

At the reminder, you look back at the bite only to see that its gotten worse. You wince at the sight of it and face the group. You guess they discovered it when you passed out.

“I don’t know, I-I thought I could handle it,” you say, not wanting to admit the real reason. Most of them roll their eyes at you.

“Of course you couldn’t handle it!” Damon says. “You should have told us.”

I didn’t know you cared. You bite your tongue to keep the words from spilling out of your mouth. “I’m sorry,” you say, losing interest in the conversation as you are now painfully aware of the venom from the bite.

“What are we going to do?” Bonnie asks. They begin to cut you out of the conversation even though they’re talking about you and you decide you can’t deal with this right now. You stand up from the couch, feeling a bit of a head rush before steadying yourself. This seems to draw their attention.

“Hey wait, where are you going?” Stefan asks, as they all look at you with bewildered expressions.

“I’m going home,” you say and start to walk away. Unfortunately, they follow.

“You can’t just go home!” Caroline exclaims, reacting as if you just said you were going to the moon.

“Watch me,” you say, your frustration getting the better of you. You try to make your way towards the door but a few steps in you stumble and Stefan speeds over to steady you.

“Okay, we’ll take you home, alright?” he says and in that moment, you’re grateful for him. He turns to the rest of the group. “We can regroup at her place and brainstorm ideas there while keeping an eye on her.” The rest of the group seems to agree with the idea. In separate cars, the group drives over to your house.

Soon you’re pulling into your driveway. They’ve all been invited in before so entering isn’t a problem. With Stefan’s help, you climb the stairs and soon find yourself in your cozy bed. You wish you could just sleep away this problem but a sudden sharp pain from the wound reminds you that isn’t possible.

“So what now?” Elena asks as the group piles into your bedroom. It feels weird and you’re slightly uncomfortable with it but you keep quiet and just get under your inviting covers.

“Maybe we can ask Klaus for help?” Bonnie suggests. At this, Damon instantly scoffs.

“Yeah that sounds like him,” Damon says.

“Maybe he’ll do it for Y/N,” Caroline says. “He does have a soft spot for her.”

“I don’t know if that’s enough for him,” Stefan interjects. “We all know what he’s after.”

“No,” Damon says. “We finally have a real weapon against those Original assholes and I’m not just going to throw it all away for—”

“Damon,” Elena hisses and nudges him in the chest before nodding over to you. Once more, all eyes are on you and you don’t know what to do. Damon looks away, maybe feeling guilty for basically saying you’re not worth it.

“Why don’t we continue this conversation downstairs?” Caroline suggests. You once again wonder why they’re talking about this situation without you but you’re too tired and hurt to care.

“We’ll be downstairs if you need anything,” Bonnie says and then the group filters out closing the door behind them.

Throughout the day a few of them check in on you every once and a while, barely giving you updates on if they’re going to find a cure. As your pain grows and the sky darkens, you start to think that maybe this is it. Maybe this is how you die. You never imagined it happening like this and your chest caves in at the thought of a final death but it’s looking more and more likely.

You’re not sure what time it is, but later in the night you hear a faint knock which sounds like it’s coming from your front door. You ignore it, not having the strength to answer it. You figure one of your friends will answer it. If they’re even home.

The knock sounds again, louder and more persistent, and you start to suspect that your friends have left. You take a deep breath as fear coils around your throat, constricting your breath. Your friends aren’t here and you’re going to die all alone before you even got to live. The knocking stops and you settle back into the silence.

Then a sound comes from your window. It sounds like…knocking? From your bed, you can’t see the outside since it’s too dark out. You wish your friends were here. Slowly, you climb out of bed and try to rally your strength in case you have to fight something or someone. As you walk over your confusion only grows.

There, perched on a branch from the tree outside your window, is Klaus Mikaelson. He gives you a wave and you hesitantly wave back. You approach the window cautiously before opening it.

“Um, can I help you?” you ask, trying to understand what you’re seeing. Hallucinations are a side effect of wolf venom, right?

“Well hello to you too, love,” he says with a cheeky smile on his face. His eyes roam over your body and his smile falters. You suddenly become aware that this is the closest you’ve ever been to the Original. You try not to let your cheeks flush.

“What are you doing here?” His smile drops entirely, noticing your serious demeanour.

“I’m here to help. Now if you could just let me in—”

“Help with what?” His face becomes grim as his eyes trail over to your shoulder. It’s now out in the open as you’ve changed into pajamas. You then remember that he must’ve seen the bite when it happened.

“Your wound, love.”

“Why…why would you want to help me with that?” you ask. Then a thought occurs. “Wait, have my friends spoken to you?”

His eyebrows furrow as he shakes his head. “No, I haven’t heard from them,” he says and though you can’t say you didn’t expect it, your heart drops at hearing it. “Wait, do they know about this?”

“Um yeah.”

He looks angry as he asks, “And where are they now?”

You look at the floor and try to keep your embarrassment inside. “I don’t know, I thought they would’ve contacted you.”

“Apparently not.” His face is still twisted in anger although you’re not quite sure why. Then he looks at you and seems to remember why he’s here. “So, can you let me in?”

The thought of having Klaus Mikaelson in your room makes your heart beat faster. And though you want to give in, to continue living your immortal life, you hesitate. “Why should I trust you?”

“What?”

“How do I know if I let you in now, it won’t come back to bite me in the ass?” you ask, your arms crossed.

Klaus doesn’t seem to understand your concern. “Love, you realize that’s a hybrid bite. I don’t think you have the time for this.”

“So you admit that you would use it later?”

His face scrunches up. “That’s not—no I wouldn’t do that—just please let me in,” he says, giving you a sincere look that threatens to break down your walls. Just as you’re about to question him more, a wave of pain washes over your body. You let out a groan as you slightly stumble back. “Y/N?” The pain grows more intense and you let out a whimper before you collapse onto your knees. “Y/N!” It’s as if your body is at war with itself and you can feel every impact of it.

“You have to let me in, just say the words and I can help you. Please!” You hear Klaus say from the window. But it’s hard to find words when the pain is so intense. You want it to stop. “Y/N!” You hear him bang his fist against the walls of your house.

You slowly lift your head up to see his worried face, desperately waiting for you to let him in. You no longer care if this will come back to haunt you. You take a few deep breaths before you say, “Come in.”

As soon as the words take effect, Klaus rushes into the house and scoops you into his arms. You clutch at his chest, not thinking of anything but the pain. He carries you over to the bed and gently places you down before quickly running over to the window to close it. The pain seems to be dwindling down but you know it’ll be back. Your whole body is so weak, you used the last of your strength to walk over and talk to Klaus.

Speaking of, he’s quickly back at your bedside, eyes furiously scanning you for signs of physical distress. Then his eyes lock on yours and you feel your breath hitch. “You have to drink my blood,” he says quietly to you.

You know that that’s the cure and that it will save you, but you’re still hesitant. This is Klaus you’re talking about. The big bad hybrid who’s been attacking your friends and causing chaos for weeks now. And yet for some reason, a part of you wants to trust him. A part of you wants to give in to the idea that he could be good. But how can you trust him when you can’t even trust your own instincts?

He must sense your hesitation, because he leans down to look into your eyes. When you look at him, you’re stuck by how truly beautiful he is. His eyes are a beautiful blue, but more than that, they hold a look of sincerity in them. “I know you don’t trust me, I wouldn’t either,” he says. “But this is what’s going to save you. So please, take a chance. What have you got to lose?”

He does have a point.

“I don’t want to die,” you admit in a small voice. Your breath stutters as you let the fear bubbling inside of you rise to the surface. Klaus’s look is sympathetic.

“I don’t want that either,” he whispers. Your eyes meet and you feel caught in them. “Let me help you.”

Maybe it’s because this is a different, more sincere side of Klaus that you’ve never seen before. Maybe it’s because your friends are gone and you’re feeling vulnerable. Maybe it’s because your instincts seem to have aligned. Either way, you nod your head.

He offers you a small smile. He then sits on the bed and gently shifts you so that you’re leaning against his chest. You’re too weak to move yourself. Klaus rolls up his sleeve and bites down on his wrist before bringing it close to your lips. You’re tempted but look at him to make sure it’s okay first. He nods and you sink your teeth into his wrist.

At first, you feel weird about the situation. But then you lean into it and begin to enjoy it. Klaus whispers encouragingly in your ear as his blood enters your body. You can feel your strength begin to return and the fog in your brain clear. You almost don’t want to stop, and the way Klaus is petting your hair doesn’t help. But eventually, you know you’ve had enough, so you pull away.

“Wasn’t so bad, eh?” Klaus says and you look up to see him smiling down at you. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I think so.”

“Then I guess my work here is done.” He moves you so you’re lying back on your bed, but when he moves to leave, you grab his arm. He looks back, confused.

“Why did you do that?” When his confusion doesn’t clear, you clarify. “Why did you help me?”

He looks down at the floor and his lip twitches into a smile. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, love, but I quite fancy you. Wouldn’t want you dying on me before I’ve had a chance to win you over.”

His words shock you enough to let go of his arm. The strangest part is that he looks sincere about it. “But…you actually like me? Like, that wasn’t all an act?” you ask. Both of you seem to be confused by the other.

“Why would I do that?” You start to feel embarrassed.

“To—to get on the group’s nerves? To throw us off?”

“Is it so hard to believe that I might just like you?” To be honest, the thought hadn’t occurred to you. Trickery made more sense.

“Yes,” you say and then wish you didn’t. “I—I mean, why me? Why not Caroline or Bonnie?”

“Besides the fact that you’re the most gorgeous creature I’ve ever laid eyes on?” he asks and you’re suddenly glad it’s dark because your cheeks are on fire right now. “Because you’re different.” That doesn’t make you feel so great. He must have picked up on that because he catches your eye and says, “Because you’re better.” The idea makes you flustered, that anyone would think you’re better than them, let alone a powerful hybrid like Klaus.

“I still don’t understand.”

“Hmm.” He seems to think on what to say before smirking. “Then I guess I’ll have to do a better job at showing you.” When he winks at you, you think your face might be on fire from how hot it is. Once again, he turns to leave.

“Thank you,” you call out which makes him stop in his tracks. He turns around to face you and seems confused by your words. But you mean them. He didn’t have to save you, you gave him nothing in return, and yet he did.

He smiles and you think it’s much better than the fake ones he gives to the group. “Of course love,” he says. “Couldn’t have my favourite vampire dying on me.” You give him a smile back, genuinely happy to hear someone say that to you.

Then your eyelids begin to feel heavy and you have to blink rapidly to stay awake. Klaus sees this and says, “Goodnight, my love,” before opening your bedroom window.

“Goodnight,” you say back as you watch the window close. You lay back down on your bed, thankful to no longer be dying. You guess you have your new saviour to thank for that. As you close your eyes, you can’t help but see Klaus in a different light. Not as a villain, but as a complicated man. You don’t think your friends are going to like your change of heart, so for now you’ll keep it to yourself. You’ll be content in knowing that maybe the big bad hybrid isn’t so bad after all.