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written-beyond-the-grave · 3 days

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Getting with Mitch Rapp HC's

After an intense who knows how long a bitch finally cracked and decided to write about Mitch Rapp since he’s a sweetie who doesn’t get talked about enough… like I been under the tag and I know writing takes so much time and effort so I decided to step tf in and give it a turn… bare with me

We all know after the death of Katrina this man went completely off grid, quit college, didn’t speak to his brother, went all in on avenging her on his own….. To take down a whole cell and the mastermind… yeah, white boy won’t shoot up a school, but will become an almost martyr (he’s what the govt would deadass hire, and keep on rotation)

ANYWAYS

I dead do feel like Mitch would we cautious, wary, and sus as hell with a civilian s/o

Let’s unpack: this man after Katrina probably wasn’t seeing anyone after that being emotionally scarred and whatnot (maybe he had to fuck someone or a few for the sake of a mission or kiss them, but it was just business). So the likelihood of this man entertaining someone else like with intention and not just some one fuck wonder is gonna be crazy ngl. This man has to look over his shoulder and his trust issues got trust issues, like his energy on a regular basis doesn’t scream “stay away”

But anyway, to catch his attention I feel like would be by constantly meeting him in mundane situations. I’m not doing the whole “you’re partners” trope, my black ass isn’t in this luv

Laundry room in the apartment and y’all get clothes mixed in on accident and you end up with his shirt or something— or the age old tale of him getting your underwear…. Or y’all shifting through the mixed laundry picking out what’s yours lmfaoooo

Mail getting dropped off in the wrong box or something

Bumping into each other at the grocery store and Mitch has the bare necessities in his basket and yours is like girl dinner coded

And the thing is, he’s not necessarily rude in interactions (when him throwing knives and punching his punching bag got loud and the person who owned the building asked Mitch to keep it down, and Mitch was respectful and said sure…. He’s not an asshole) but he might be on edge and try to speed things up

I feel like what might get the ball rolling might be a few different things: him seeing someone following you home that he KNOWS doesn’t live in his building (ik this man recognized everyone who lives in that bitch), being catcalled aggressively while walking home, seeing you stay in your car because a sus ass person is waiting for you to get out your car so he comes up to your window to help you out, or some comment about a terrorist attack “shoutout to terrorists, bc the US when to Afghanistan saw all this oil and snatched their chain. “We” (bc ain’t no WE here) snatch their chain and they retaliate, then we yell “it’s the Muslims” to spark a debate

Ngl he’s gonna have to let you cook with that one bc I feel like the “shoutout to terrosits” would’ve had that man spiraling and attacking you immediately. IK that man would spazz on the spot…. So let’s keep it to the safer options hm?

Soooooo after that it would spark a bit of conversation and solidify the familiarity bc here is your neighbor that you tend to see sparklingly helping you out

And being the person I am, I feel like as a thank you you’d leave him some brownies, cookies, or maybe a whole ass lasagna with instructions on how to best reheat at his doorstep being too shy to outright do it

Mans is confused but I feel like he’d take it to be nice, leave it in the fridge for like 2 days until he’s back late from a meeting and needs something in him and the only in that barren ass fridge is the lasagna…. He indulges and once he finds it’s good as hell he bodies half of it

He probably has it for lunch/dinner next day too. And then like washes it and knocks on your door to like give it back. He tells you thanks and you didn’t need to, but you say otherwise. And at this point with his stubborn ass if you’d invite over for dinner he’d respectfully decline so now there needs to be an event that puts him in your place of residence

Cue you taking a tumble on iced pavement

Mwah, inconvenience 😘

And now Mitch being at the right place wrong time, has to help you up and probably check for a concussion since that fall was nasty. He helped you into the elevator then into your place to help check your head and then like how you’re functioning bc goddamn. Once he figures out your fine, he’ll tell you to get a professional opinion and he makes you an nice ice pack and gives advice for how to take care of it

He thinks he’s good to leave you until he sees you struggling to get your bearings. He hates that he does this, but asks if you need any help since your mind is scrambled. Maybe he gets your some Advil, but then realizes you can’t take it on an empty stomach (he’s done it too many damn times himself) and so he looks into your fridge for something to heat up in the microwave to give you before you take the pill

This is where the relationship starts and y’all make small talk, and how this is the longest you ever seen this man. He smirks, and snarks back. Once he gives you the food and sees you take the pill he’s off the clock and bids you a goodnight

Until you see him gain tomorrow since he probably starts to check in on you, not like he’s been getting emotionally fed by having an associate outside of work that isn’t trying to kill him or isn’t Stan or Irene. Just a normie…. But he be lying about his feelings

Next interaction is him coming back from a semi rough work week, and you catch him before he goes in and since he looks over it. Maybe a home cooked meal could help? You invite him over, no strings attached and go ok your way to get the braised short ribs out the oven for the mashed potatoes. You don’t tell him what’s for dinner tho

Thinking nothing will result of this, you get a knock at your door 30 minutes later with him and his hair still slightly damp. And maybe like a case in his beer bc he was told to never show up empty handed (so cute). Then bam! Y’all have some nice conversation, Mitch making sure to keep the attention off him and his job and do some information digging about you. School you went to, parents, hobbies, etc

He’s also scarfing down the ribs and such, you’re probably going to send him with food home tbh. He looks like he’ll need it

After that it’s really wraps, like it destined for y’all to be real friends! Once he gets sent home with the plastic tupper (we don’t give guests the glass in case we don’t get shit back) we all know he’ll be back again

Then starts the tradition of Mitch eating at your place for like once a week that later gets bumped up to like 3 times a week. At some point your forgetting ingredients and maybe text Mitch about it, funny thing is he’s at the liquor store getting alcohol you might like since beer isn’t always going to cut it. He texted back what you need, and when he arrives he hands you what you need. This man stopped next door to the Shop Rite to get you the stuff…. Eventually I feel like he just buys your groceries since he eat EATS with all the work he puts in

Friendship established

Y’all been shooting the shit for a while until there’s an emotional shift…. Lets say he’s having an episode of anger and just shuts down. On top the roof brooding and shit, it’s Katrina in another nightmare, him walk my himself with a panic attack, Stan up his ass, he just cannot right now. You take an elevator up there to see what’s up. You ask him what’s up, what’s wrong but he just ignores you. And by this point you know he can be a tight lipped lil shit…. But it doesn’t stop you from being there. So you do what you know best about which is just being there

So y’all sit in silence. And maybe you start to ramble to fill the silence, talking about the way your parents did a thing about colors when you were super and didn’t feel like talking. They said numbers “1 was green meaning yes, 2 was red so no to whatever they asked, 3 was yellow so a I’m not sure”.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Silence

“Are you ok to be by yourself?”

Him staring straight ahead

“Do you want me to go?”

A painful hard silence

You respect his wishes and get ready to leave him until you heard a soft “2”, and the. Sit your ass down.

“Ok, so you want silence?”

“…..3”

“Ok, I’ll just sit here and watch the time…. We can get ice cream after….” You were doing your best dammit

Mitch felt a fond feeling some up over him, but didn’t say anything. You guys were up there until it got too damn late and cold. You tell him it’s time to go, and that when he looks at you like LOOKS and it’s just different…. You know he doesn’t want to go, and you understand but you can’t let self sabotage happen

“I get it, life is lifing and shit sucks but even when you’re not ready for the day, it can’t always be night”

This man knows you quoted Kanye

He gives you another long look, and you get up and offer your hand to help him up. He stared up at it… then grabs it to get up and y’all get inside. You two end up eating ice cream sandwiches

Now the seed is planted for feelings to grow… MWAHAHAHAHAAAAA

After that y’all hangout regularly when he’s home, you give him normalcy in his life which he appreciates

He will die on a hill before he admits or even acknowledges the feelings he has for you, lets be real he probably feels like he’s cheating on Katrina and that he’s not here to make friends since he’s a whole ass assassin and whatever. That’s fine, but when he’s wondering what you’re up to, or what’s for dinner, or reminiscing on a joke you made he feels warm and fuzzy and sometimes not as on edge as he usually is on missions

Stan noticed

I don’t think things will turn until he gets home one day at an odd hour of the night like 3am type shit and is bruised over his face. He just wants to lay in bed after taking a nice shower, but nah there’s you in the hall coming back from the club and having fun. You might be tipsy and say hi to Mitch but all that leaves your system once you see his face. *giggles like a school girl kicking her feet*

You’re on him without thinking asking what happened, he’s trying to keep it together and not blow up on you since you’re friends but he really wants to go inside. But you let him and follow him in asking for a first aid kit that he has. And you end up cleaning off his face after he showers, during that time you go to your place and get a first aid kit that is more advanced than his (that spray on band aid shit). Now it's you disinfecting wounds and putting neosporin on them and sealing it. During this time you’re complaining about wtf this man did while he was away, completely ignoring the fact that he’s in a towel. You’re giving him an earful and Mitch is rolling his eyes but not moving much bc when was the last time someone touched him so gently?

He’s probably taking in your clubbing attire while you do this, not in a weird way but like looking at the glitter, the new hair style, etc and putting it to memory

“What the fuck were you doing? Jesus you look like shit”

Cue eye roll and for that you poke a nasty bruise that has his muscles flexing, he grabs your wrist for that

You give him a glare and don’t back down…. He answers with “The government” after that you don’t ask questions. The FBI agent assigned to your phone is probably already on your ass so you don’t need more enemies

You fix him up, tell him to chill out, and then go to leave, but not right before him saying “thank you”

We love a polite man who is in denial about having feelings, and you not acting in them bc Mitch is like a blank slate to read when he really wants to be

So like the way y’all talk about feelings and decide to get together and shit is not my forte, and breaking down his walls to talk about Katrina and the nature of his work to a degree that doesn’t scare you off. And his work on being emotionally available to you since he now cares for you more than he can admit

But we KNOW this man is a complete softie

Once he loves he LOVES, no question about it. And once you gain that, you have him for life

Fuck even if he’s been away for an assignment for months at a time, he’d probably head back to your apartment rather than his…. He knows where home is

He might not be the type to declare his love for you verbally all the time, but he shows it through actions like remembering the brand of stuff you like. Bringing you dessert or picking up food for you when work has been bullshit. Maybe not a gourmet meal for breakfast in bed (he can cook but like take your expectations, he can throw down for breakfast tho and make good ass sandwiches), but he will give you the rest of the milk for the cereal. Do the dishes, trash duty, put furniture together, wait for you outside till you get off work and drive you home. And even tidy around if he sees you don’t have the time

And when things get more serious put you as an authorized user on his card without telling you. You’ll just find that shit in your Apple Wallet

He’d keep the loving touches at home but he’s a cuddle bug, loyal to a fault, and loves to spend time at home with you. Home dates are a must, but he does love a good date night to see you dressed up

He would grow to love the domestic nature of your relationship and that’s what this man needs besides a copious amount of therapy

You’d also find out that he’s a nerd, but like undercover. I feel like he’d be a Nightwing or Red Hood fan from DC, and other comics from his childhood shows as well

He’s protective, smart, probably would talk to you about getting an air tag or some government tracking thing in case of emergencies. Then maybe take you on a gun date to teach you some self defense which probably goes wrong because you’re a CIVILIAN and that punch came too fast at you and you screamed and ducked while covering your eyes. He feels bad now, but now knows to take it to baby steps

Your assassin boyfriend has your best interest at heart, promise

A/N: I do be writing for black readers iykyk, but here is just very general.... Let me get to the tomfoolery next time babes (like Mitch helping you take down the braids)

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written-beyond-the-grave · 23 days

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Bottomline is – of course I want to be loved. Luckily for me, I AM loved, too. So don't you go worrying about me "not being loved".

#important

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written-beyond-the-grave · 23 days

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I just gave a sermon at my church today about asexuality and how to be an ally. Not only did I get a lot of comments about how much people liked it (and how it was easy to understand for so many old folks), but one old lady came up to me afterwards with tears in her eyes and she said, "I'm 77 years old and I finally know what I am. Thank you." And that just made everything I've done worth it.

(also, thank you @onbearfeet for letting me use one of your blog posts. It resonated with a lot of people)

#important

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written-beyond-the-grave · 28 days

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so you dated the wrong person and learned a hard lesson. you chose the wrong major and had to start over again. you cherished a friend who backstabbed you. it sucks, but it’s also going to work out. that’s life; you learn, hurt, love, cry, laugh, and keep going. you experience setbacks and you grow and it’s all okay.

#set #seth #sutekh

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written-beyond-the-grave · 29 days

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Take me back to when the show was still colorful ✨🦋

#love #fanart #winx club

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written-beyond-the-grave · 30 days

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Captain John Price in Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 12/??

#john price

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written-beyond-the-grave · 30 days

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heyy :) i saw you were doing headcanons? could you write something about dating stiles stilinski? i love your writing btw <3

dating stiles stilinski

warnings; none!! except some tooth rotting fluff because gem loves cute boyfriends!!!!!!!!!!!

notes; hi!! it's been a while ;) i love stiles and my head is a huge mess of domesticity and adoration so here we are!!!! this is my first hc so pls forgive me if it's a mess and/or sucks (this is basically just a walk around my adhd riddled brain anyways)

dating stiles would be nothing short of chaotic

his love languages are physical touch and words of affirmation; definitely

just hold his hand and tell him how much love him and this man is putty in your hands

he's very protective over you (maybe a little too protective)

especially when theo comes into your lives; but that's a story for another day

he gets you a bat; even if you refuse to use it

comforting him when he tells you about his insecurities

reassuring him when he tells you that he feels weak because he's not supernatural

stealing his flannels

usually he's reluctant to lend them to anybody, but as soon as he sees you in one of them???

this man is handing you them all

i honestly couldn't see stiles dating someone who isn't apart of the pack because he's weary enough around other people as it is

you're super close with scott

you've always known that stiles and scott are a package deal; so you being friends with scott was very important to you all

scott is the most lovable person in the world so it's pretty easy

ok sorry back to stiles i just love my baby scotty

you and stiles are definitely the comedic relief of the pack

sleeping over at his house more often than not

cuddling all the time

literally in any position; doesn't matter whose head is on whose chest or who's the big spoon

noah adoring you

but also noah bullying stiles for how whipped he is

he's very comforted by the fact that stiles has someone that he can rely on and talk to (because lord knows he's the king of hiding things from his dad)

forehead kisses!!!! stiles loves when you give him forehead kisses almost as much as he loves giving you forehead kisses

you guys are best friends. BEST!!!! FRIENDS!!!!!

at the start of the relationship; both of you guys kept some stupid secrets from each other to protect the other one

both of you realising pretty soon that's dumb

telling each other everything after that

being that one couple that is disgustingly in love

even if you had an argument and are giving each other the silent treatment

y'all will still send each other heart eyes from across the room

okay this is a mess but in conclusion

stiles stilinski is a big ol' softie who absolutely adores his girlfriend (or boyfriend or just significant other; lord knows that man is a raging bisexual)

#stiles stilinski

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written-beyond-the-grave · 30 days

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DATING STILES STILINSKI MOODBOARD

#stiles stilinski

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written-beyond-the-grave · 1 month

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Taking the Mikaelsons to a Concert

IK a bitch was gone, but a bitch is back… sparingly. I been on tumblr doing my shit but ummm I started this shit while in highschool like sophomore year… It’s been a year since I graduated college…. Anyway, fuck it we ball bc someone needs ot get this shit wet first with the Mikaelson’s… shout out to @starlightandfairies @wholoveseggs @klausysworld for holding it down. I love everyones work, y'all be feeding the fandom

If it’s snowin’ I ain’t going… leggo (once again, I write this for niggas. Mwah, to freedom)

So primarily I feel like the Mikaelsons would all be down to going to a concert, I mean Nicki, Doja, Lil Nas X, Mariah the Scientist, Chloe Bailey, Drake, Jhene Aiko, Victoria Monet, the Weekend, Kendrick Lamar, Travis Scott--- you get the point. You are the object of their desires and affections so they’ll go…. But what will ensue???

KLAUS

For nosey bitches in the back I got y’all…. This is Klaus finally biting the bullet and taking you to a Nicki concert, the Pink Friday 2 tour!

First, it would take hella time to even get him to go, this man is busy running lives, making hybrids, acting like he a real active party in whatever council shit he bullied his way into in New Orleans, and like running Rebekah’s love life…. He be busy

He probably feels like he should take you out for something, so he asks you what you want. Anything your heart wants he’ll give it no problem: private helicopter tour of NYC, a week in Brazil, couples massage, hell even go see puffins up in Iceland. But you know what your bitch ass asks for?

To see Onika Tanya Maraj…. As you should

This man is staring at you like “Love… who is that?” And you look at him and tell him “Nicki Minaj, Nicki Lewinski, Nicki the Ninja, Nicki the Boss, Nicki The Harajuku Barbie…. Have you not learned????” And he just stares at you in amusement like ‘it’s no Mozart, you modern women have such…. Vulgar tastes… but I will endorse this, for you my love”

Wait till he gets there AHAHAHAAAAA

You’re pulled up in all your glory, pink everything, sunnies on, gloss on, heels as big as his dick… And you know I don’t think Klaus would ever let you put him in pink spandex. But I think he’ll allow like a shirt of Nicki’s face on him, and like maybe a barbie chain on his neck… He’s a hybrid, he can’t be seen out like this (you def sent photos to the rest of the family of this).

I feel like Klaus would be chill af with the crowds and shit, until bitches start getting rowdy when Roman comes on stage. I feel like he’ll just be vibing, but mostly looking at you as you lose your shit

“A 100 MUTHAFUCKA CAN’T TELL ME NOTHING, I BEEZ IN THE TRAP”... bby chill, you’ll sweat that wig off and it’ll slip back. But deadass, it’s like another beast when she comes out and it activates something in you. Like the regular old human that Klaus knew of is gone, and is replaces by a bad bitch that would definitely put her shoe on his neck and he likes that

Funny enough, there is one song that Klaus would know all the words to… Moment for Life-- HEAR MY OUT, DAMN. Ok, the song is about literally getting everything you want and being at a point where no one can touch you or even fathom to be at your height of success or clout. Klaus Mikaelson gets whatever he wants, no one touches him-- or if they do, they won’t live long enough to tell the tale. King shit, so imagine your surprise when you hear this man over everyone else singing along and being into it

Yeah, did that shit. “What I tell 'em hoes? Bow, bow, bow to me, drop down to ya knees” Drake type man…. And towards the end just reminisce of all the people, woman, children, and villages he pillaged to get where he is now… mentally deranged, having a god complex and inferiority complex at the same damn time, and daddy issues while treating his siblings like his own dad LMFAOOOO

Good luck Klaus whores

And then when she starts bringing in old shit like the songs with Sean Kingston or Gyptian…. Oh boy, I know that man is catching a whine as you yell at him “YOU’RE SO PRETTY AND YOU’RE NICE YUH DUN KNO SEH NICKI AS YO WIFE” Ik you bitches telling Klaus exactly that and putting emphasis on wife bc where tf this Icelandic viking silverback think he going????

But as the show goes on, it’s a cute experience between you two as you guys kinda switch roles and you get to be super unhinged and rock out with the other people there and go bar for bar. Like you couldn’t fuck Michael Kors if you was FUCKIN’ Michael Kors

dabs sweat off my forehead

He’s happy to take you home and baby you when you come from the energy drop, but he will be wondering were that energy comes from bc you ain’t putting all that work in when he fucks you soooooo

REBEKAH

Ok so for this one…. Give me a Lil Nas X, Doja Cat, and Rico Nasty ass collab in a concert (bc that’s my dream lineup and y’all can take all my money). I feel like Rebekah needs the girl power and the gays for this so let me cook

I deadass feel you wouldn’t need to convince her of shit, she’d be the one to ask if you wanted to go because she’s heard some of their songs via you jamming in the bathroom and just booked tickets as soon as you said yes. Hey, it’s to make you happy and you deserved to be pampered-- and she’s trying to get in her modern experiences since she was in a box for a long ass time

1st song is Montero, it has to be she definitely wants to fucked out from the jet lag and becoming part of the mile high club-- it’s her thing. Plus she loves the glitter and probably being two glitter gay/bi/whatever floats your boat people that are dressed in matching outfits, but different color combos. Titties are out, and y’all are sprayed down in glitter

Then after that I feel like it would be Rico Nasty coming in hot with “SLAP A BITCH” and I know you and Rebekah felt this song on a spiritual level, so it’s both you screaming in each others faces while she has her arms wrapped around you bc she loves love.

Then it pops off with “STFU” bc a lot fo y’all hoes needs to take a seat and shut the fuck up when big bitches are in the room… anyways, personal issues. A lot of y’all do not need a mic and are not the big titty bitches y’all make yourself out to be… and take the mics away from podcast men, please. I BEG

But anyways, it’s really a whole anthem to all the rock/rap alt girlies out here. Rebekah isn’t used to the music, but she can get buck wild to it, especially when it comes down to Doja and RIco when they interchange with “Swamp Bitches”.... That’s my shit ngl

Nah bc opening a verse with “I WISH DEATH ON ALL YOU BITCHES” was insane… love you Rico <3 That song makes you wanna fight ever bitch in the state that ever did you wrong, every bitch working at goodwill that couldn’t take your brothers army discount bc you wasn’t personally in the army, the wack ass bitch at the post office that didn’t want to work there that day, and that grandma down the block that keep eyeing you and telling you that you ain’t hot shit… she wasn’t even hot shit when Project C hit the neighborhood and niggas were getting sprayed with hoses

Anyways

I truly feel like she’d appreciate the girl time with you, and just to be, and have her shit out and have fun. It’s what she deserves

KOL

THERE IS NO HEAR ME OUT YOU WILL LISTEN: NF

I know I been on the black artists wave, but for the niggas that really be feeling shit NF just knows and I feel like with Kols past of always being the forgotten sibling, not being i the pack of “always and forever”, dying all the fucking time, and getting treated like shit by everyone else unless they need to minute magical thing that’s super important he’s left in the dark

He is the most self-aware sibling out of everyone out this fuck ass family. And I feel for him honestly, being the black sheep, being the outcast. Being able to use your magic when you were a witch and then all of a sudden you can’t do that shit anymore because you’re dumb ass mom wants to make y’all fucking vampires and freaks of nature and then wants to kill you, like it was your fault in the first place? Shit was really whack.

Like he calls his family and siblings out for having a para social relationship that is super into emotional and measurements, and having no boundaries whatsoever, killing other peoples lovers, putting them in coffins just so Klaus doesn’t feel like he’s losing his siblings because he can always take them whenever he goes. But they’re still in a box, they’re not living life they’re not being happy. And that just shows how much class is really his daddy‘s son, even though his dad really isn’t his dad because his mom cheated on, her husband with a werewolf. And Kol clocks all of that.

So I feel that he would really vibe with NF, I really do. Therapy session, intro, hope, all of those songs the whole album really would have him crying in your arms at sometime around midnight when he just came over to listen to some tunes and have a good time, and I feel like you introduce NF to him. He gets hugged, and he knows that NF is speaking about his life someway somehow and it just really hits him and he just cries in your arms for that time

I don’t care how corny you think this man is, this is real music and he writes about things that are real, and that happens to him. The song mansion is legitimately about Kol’s life with being being abandoned and abused by his own family, and his own father, as class was taking most of the beatings, he still had to watch all of that. But being the middle child that he was, he just was overlooked, and that probably speaks as to why he acted out and didn’t get any of attention that he deserves.

And I feel that as Kol gets into a relationship relationship with you, you being his black queen, because I know that man was up in Hady for some reason helping him with the revolution. He just doesn’t give a fuck does what he wants to do so it makes sense why he would be with the black woman because it’s just everything, they are on earthly, they are Wisdom and magic and chest seal combined into a specific human type. And I love this for them, I love this for me.

But anyways, back to the subject at hand. I feel like you, dear reader, would surprise Kol with NF tickets because he’s been wanting to go for a long time, and you guys went dress up any fancy just probably black, cute little combat, boots and things like that. And then just head to the show. But as soon as the show starts, he probably starts off with one of his hard hitters. I’m imagining either therapy session, or mansion to really get the tears going. And it’s really just the two of you standing side-by-side, maybe even hand and hand shouting every single lyric word for word, and just letting out all the shadow work and trauma, that you two have built up over the past couple years, granted Kol is Literally hundreds of years old, and you’re probably someone your 20s or 30s. But trauma is trauma and y’all need to deal with that.

Bc deadass, these lyrics are Kol: “What's my definition of success? Listening to what your heart says. Standing up for what you know is. Right, while everybody else is” because in every single episode, when Kol says not to mess with some dumb shit that causes about to fucking do everyone else ignores him, even Elijah, and they fuck around and find out, and they all of a sudden need help. And then complain like no one told them exactly what the fuck was going to happen in the first place. This man is always right, and he needs people to listen more to him. He’s been listening to what his heart says, he’s been going out and meeting new people and trying to live a life that he would really be proud of. Even though he’s very much unhinged and still acts out because he wants to be king of the world and wants to have some form of control like Klaus has because he knows that he can never get away from Klaus.

And then, when I feel like it’s towards the end of the show, and NF finally drops, hope, I feel like that’s when Kol really starts to let go of things a little bit, and really start listening to lyrics and make a promise to himself with like, maybe fighting against his dark side, a little bit of all the things that he’s known, and then just digging himself a deeper hole. He wants to actually get better for you, and for himself to have a healthy relationship. Because he’s never had that in his life, and you’re just not a play thing to him at all.

“Thirty years of running, thirty years of searching. Thirty years of hurting, thirty years of pain. Thirty years of fearful, thirty years of anger. Thirty years of empty, thirty years of shame. Thirty years of broken, thirty years of anguish…. I’m taking the reins” so it’s really just him taking the reins of his life, and just making it better than whatever it actually was. And I hope that can be therapy, I really do. But this whole concert experience would really just be a gigantic therapy session for Cole, but also having fun with you because there’s no one else that he would let see that vulnerable and that lively and have his whole façade slip down like that besides you.

But he’d be a Drake fan, Travis Scott, and probably XXXtentacion… he’s still a menace, but he’s a healed menace…. well, healing.

ELIJAH

Here is the black womans whore himself… and my man *does the debby ryan*

I know that Elijah appreciates music in general, that man literally writes his own concertos, plays the piano, plays the violin. He is classically trained. And I expect nothing less. Honestly, he really is him. And he is also still very much worse than Klaus, even though he would like to believe that he is not.

Honestly, I don’t think you would really have to introduce Elijah to rap or hip-hop music. I feel like he would already be in Erykah Badu fan, probably really like the Beastie Boys, was into old school, underground in New York, hip-hop and rap. He was probably there, underground, too, for shits and giggles when he wanted a break. So no, I don’t think you would have to introduce him to hip-hop, maybe to a couple artists and everything. But, that doesn’t need help with that department

I feel like Elijah would definitely be a Kendrick, Lamar, J. Cole fan in the rap game and even Lil Wayne too. But I want to get into some good old Tom foolery before I say my crème de la crème.

With the whole Kendrick, J. Cole and Drake beef, that’s happening, I don’t think that Elijah would ever take any sides. But I do feel like he would definitely keep up with the news, even though you wouldn’t expect them to, with the whole suit and everything.

To start off, I feel like you being the reader would bring up the whole rap beef thing to Elijah. Since two weeks ago, you already brought up the Megan Thee Stallion versus Nicki Minaj rap beef that was happening. And now, this time it is Kendrick versus everyone, fuck the big three it’s just big me nigga BUM

And I feel like it would be brought up during lunch or something since you guys have lunch together, and you’re just giving him the whole play-by-play and then letting him listen to the song. And I feel like you need to play a couple times for him, so he really gets to like listen to lyrics and understand because one thing about it is…. Metro dissed everyone in morse code

NAHHHHH CUZ YALL NOT HEARING HIMMMM BEEP BEEP BOOP NIGGA

Mans said “BUM” with his chest

Like I know, J. Cole was on his bike on his way to the studio. As soon as he heard what Kendrick Lamar said, but then again, he could also not be doing anything because he’s not the type to just be on Rappy just to get some shit going you know?

But anyways, I feel like Elijah would totally indulge in this, and he would write down a whole play-by-play with what everything means because the power money and respect? “Sweetheart, Drake is the money, Jermaine Coke is the respect, and Kendrick is the power….” I can fully foresee that man giving you a dissertation on every single line and lyric and how it is a jab at every single one of them, and the meaning is behind it. You got not only a history professor, but one of the great literary investigators of all time for no reason.

I feel like Elijah is low-key. Also waiting for Drake and J. Cole to respond to what Kendrick said about them. And he’s so messy, for he really is, because he acts all high and mighty but he’s really waiting for the gossip about what people about to say

But moving along from the rat beef, I really do feel like this man would be a Lil Wayne fan because Lil Wayne was setting a standard early in the 2000s and probably even before then about how he really is one of the best rappers out there. Like, no one else was doing it like him and no one else doesn’t like him, and will never do it like him. You would catch yourself humming to a Lil Wayne, and I feel like that man would pick it up instantly, and just go bar for bar on whatever humming note that you were on and it’s amazing, but it seems so out of character for him, but it’s really not.

Because this concert is going to be one hell of a trip because first and foremost he is not going there with a suit on, you’re going to have to get this man to be casual. Which shouldn’t be hard because he loves you, you’re his little chocolate drop, pumpkin. But putting this man in a leather jacket and some jeans and whatever shoes that are comfortable for him to wear at this concert is gonna be one thing. Fighting off other bitches while in the crowd is going to be another thing entirely as well.

But listening to him, actually let lose for the good two hours that you’ll be there at the concert screaming at your lungs, and listening to this man stay on rhythm beat and have actual breath control when he’s going for a speed to is going to be insane in mind melting

Let’s be honest, you wanna fuck this man on the regular basis just because he’s him. But you’re telling me that he’s cultured and he can wrap and knows what the fuck he’s talking about?

Coochie hours have been extended

And it gets even worse when he knows that this turns you on so anytime that you turn back to look at him he’s already looking at you, wrapping the verse with little to no effort and giving you those bad eyes because he just knows. He knows what he’s doing to you and you have no Other choice but to either look away or to hold eye contact because we both know this is gonna end up messy when you guys get back to the Airbnb or hotel room

“I said, "He's so sweet, make her wanna lick the wrapper" So I let her lick the rapper”, and this mans eyes are dead set on you and his gives the lip bite… Yeah yeah… time for me to gooooo

#tvd x reader #elijah mikealson x reader #elijah mikaelson x reader #black reader #black y/n #black!reader #klaus mikealson x reader #klaus mikaelson x reader #rebekah mikaelson x reader #kol mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson x black reader #klaus mikaelson x black reader #the originals imagine #elijah mikaelson imagine #klaus mikaelson imagine #rol mikaelson imagine

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written-beyond-the-grave · 2 years

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The Ratussy

My oh my, I must say Lin-Manuel Miranda definitely put his badussy into Encanto because the music, the lyrical genius, the plot, the storytelling, intergenerational trauma, the way you could see the arm hairs of the characters when the light HIT, how cute antonie was, and the fact they finally talked about Bruno…..

Y’all can guess where this about to go. Back at it again, but this time in another country we have the man who took our hearts: A dusty 50 year old rat man with crippling anxiety, probably bad postuer, a 5’5” stature AT LEAST, looks like he hasn’t slept in years, and is superstitious as fuck…. Bruno Madrigal

I already feel like I’m about to violate some of y’all fantasies bc…. YALL ARE GOING WAY TOO EASY ON A MAN THAT LEFT FOR 10 YEARS WTF. Like, I seen the scenarios where him and his s/o were married and he just dipped…. No word… then he pops back up and then all is forgiven with a simple hi? Like only two good ones I seen was headcanons where he came but but had to prove it and work for it that he was serious and was sorry, then another story where the reader goes on about how he just left and didn’t say shit. They gave it to him, left no crumbs (if you’re the creator reading this, please make a part 2… but I’m not one to be saying shit since I never have part 2’s so….. yikes)

Like before I even think about giving y’all the goods, Imma need some Bruno angst/comfort of accountability if y’all going that route. A tale of a slow rekindle if you will, because I’ll be damned if my s/o pulled the same shit (I understand with the bad luck and all, but he was ina town of dumbass that thought he was making shit happen. My mans predicts shit, if anything y’all already knew ya pops was finna kick it and wanted to hear something different then got mad when it wasn’t. Play with ya mama and not Bruno then, damn.)

Starting off, I think that Bruno is indeed a sweet baby who is somewhat startled easily especially by peoples kindness bc mans was in a wall without seeing people after being doxxed but the whole town. But hear me out… I feel like he’s a sarcastic shit when he’s comfortable. Yes he is playful, weet, considerate, nice, goofy, and socially awkward, but I can see the sarcasm. Give it time, and it’ll show for sure like he has comebacks and will roast you

On top of that I feel like he has multiple characters besides hernando and Jorge that help him with his high strung emotions. One for his anxiety, kind of like delegating what persona he needs for what event/circumstance. He’s a good actor so I wouldn’t be surprised if he has some up his sleeve. Maybe someone for cooking, one for being sneaky af and doing that parkour shit we all saw him do

That being said, I feel like he’s fit but on the skinny side with a gut. And somewhat harry. However, mans does have 50 horsepower behind those legs, good god. If anything on him were to be solid it would be his legs and maybe his quick thinking to maneuver a room and get to the other side. He would never lose a game of “the floor is lava”

Also I feel like Bruno, while soft, is also a firm guy. Like, he’s not too much of a pushover depending on the circumstances. He can probably take people yelling at him with no emotion on his face besides melancholy, but come for his rats…. Nah. It’s over. Even worse if you did come for his s/o, he may not be confrontational, but he will send his rats or I feel him and Camillo might just tag team and have Antonio in the back with his tiger

Honorable mention, Antonio was such a cutie OMG

But Bruno coming back to his s/o 10 years later is a fucking mess and there are a few ways things can go, but they are pretty similar.

He comes back and after the family reunion he comes to find you and tries to stay he’s sorry with a hopeful gleam that you haven’t moved on (and for the sake of this lets say you’ve kept him in the back of you mind and continues to live, but never got remarried or anything). And before he can even tell you the whole story you slam the door in his face, but then open it back up for s split second as he’s in a daze and give him the business.

“Sorry? SORRY?!? YOU WERE GONE FOR 10 YEARS AND DIDN’T EVEN SAY A WORD, BUT YOU WERE HERE THE WHOLE TIME??? YOU JUST FUCKING LEFT ME, AND DECIDED TO COME BACK AND DO WHAT?”

Like he’s just quiet as hell and gets smaller and smaller the more you call him out on his name (rightfully so). He knows what he did wasn’t right, but he did it to stop all the bad rep his family would’ve gotten and to stop people from blaming him. He’s a grown man and everything, but damn

And on top of that we both know that he’d try until the ends of the earth probably to get some form of forgiveness, or maybe even the s/o back. He feels downright awful, but he wants to try to make it up to you. But he also knows that you need your space to think and reel in that he is finally back (never left) and 10 years went by when y’all could’ve been together but nah. He probably heads back to casita and ponders and digs himself into a mental hole that he isn’t shit and doesn’t deserve you. And it sucks because he missed you like hell down in the walls. He told his rats about you and even kept a photo of you two right next to his favorite chair. He even regular keeps up with a novella that he made based off of the life he always wanted to live with you to pass the time, but it was never as good as what it really could’ve been

When he gets home everyone can already tell what happened (Dolores gave them the play by play, and honestly no one was surprised. Alma probably didn’t reach out to you much after his disappearance and everyone refused to speak about him as well for so long. You were the only one to speak to Mirabel about him.)

Another honorable mention, that candle would’ve seen its last days with me if Alma kept her shit up. Disrespectfully. (sorry casita, you was sturdy too)

He probably says a defeated “hi” to everyone and goes up to his room where I think Mirabel once again comes up with Antonio to talk to him. Probably telling him how you spoke of him like you were still in love with him, but the fact that he wasn’t really dead or anything and was just in the walls hurts. Like you had no importance in his life to be doing all that in the first place.

That pep talk sparks the motivation and slow rekindling story of rebuilding the trust/relationship between both of you. A good ass slow burn story… damn do I do the lords work with these written works

He’d probably start 2 weeks after with visiting, leaving letters if you even bother to read them. And probably catching you at work when there aren’t many around and speaking to you because he knows you’ll hear him and choose not to respond and put his heart out there.

NOW if he came back but didn’t come visit/see you to set things straight and its been like a week…. LMFAOOOOO THAT WOULD MAKE AND EVEN MORE ANGSTY SLOW BURN WTF

Same thing from what I already wrote, but this time maybe we’d be dealing with more inner child work with being abandoned. It would be soooo painfully slow to get to a point where you two talk face to face since you wouldn’t want shit to do with him. If he didn’t love you, or felt the same then just say that. And that would put on the long haul to truly trying to move on, but you can’t lie and say that your feelings are dead. Something is there, but it’s clouded by anger that you have every right to express but it keeps burning. And on top of that it keeps replaying in your head, it’s your perception that you’re not enough/wasn’t enough on the subconscious level.

It would be such a mind twister because once having the face to face talk and for the moment being putting the anger to the side and being completely honest I feel like Bruno would have his heart break more. Then it would be yet another long marker story of him building up to make it up to you if you allow it, and the act of building basic trust and friendship.

And while that’s happening it’s also going to be Bruno learning to have more of a backbone, getting healthy again bc mans wasn’t eating, and being upfront with his own feelings without running from them. And getting to know his family and what he missed while being in the walls, how his sisters were. And not to mention the whole family talk of where things went wrong and him being there for every family dinner (bruh that scene had my soul). And also probably never missing a birthday, and maybe even seeing some of them asleep if they fell asleep outside their room and casita didn’t carry them in. His rats needed food so he snuck out for a second to get them some things (how Camillo caught him, and then fainted from shock thus the “fades to black” part of his song).

But anyhow, Bruno coming back 10 years later to a s/o would be a cluster fuck and so many complex feelings needing to be dealt with on both sides.

#encanto imagine #encanto x reader #bruno x reader #bruno x oc #bruno madrigal #bruno madrigal x reader #encanto oc #bruno madrigal imagine #bruno madrigal x y/n #bruno x y/n #bruno x you #encanto

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written-beyond-the-grave · 2 years

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Mikaelsons with a Curly Haired S/O

Did anyone want this? No. Are you about to get this? Yes, yes you are because I am currently sitting in a geology lab bored out of my mind and I have a tab of Omegle open and I’m going to be doing some things

For the sake of diversity, and myself being black. And knowing that the vampire diaries universe and the originals universe is white as hell somehow. Even though it’s in New Orleans and it should be diverse as hell, Julie Plecisn’t doing her job... ever. She not giving what it’s supposed to gave and neither are other fanfics because I know there are more black people who really should be putting their work out there. Myself included, but due to things happening (excuses I know) I will have fun till I get my groove back

Right. So I was in a silly goofy mood and my mind was jumping to conclusions, events, scenarios that really would’ve made the vampire community really pop off you know? And I thought ‘what about the originals’, because I really don’t like the Salvatore‘s, doing hair. Not just any hair but black natural hair. And so it is

I just want to start off by saying the mikaelsons would adore anyone with curly/kinky hair. It’s so fun to play with if you allow them to and there’s so much history to it… but not all of them are the shit when it comes to it

Let’s start off with Rebekah. Honestly, just looking at her I would assume that her track record is with all types of men. But me being me, she was really after that BBC with Marcel. I don’t know what Julie Plec was doing honestly, she was a mess. However for some reason I don’t really see Rebekah as being able to do black hair, whether that be natural or trying to put that into braids. I just can’t fathom it.

And that’s hard considering she was so damn ready to have Marcel’s kids and such. Like she could manage a puff and slick shit back but that’s about it, and probably baby hairs. If anything else she’d probably hire a professional

However, with a s/o she’s probably knows how to cut hair or shape someone up. She been out here with knives, so I know she knows… hopefully.

One thing I can bet with a s/o and Rebekah is that she’ll be stocked with every kind of oil known to man, so free hair care. Hell, she’ll even buy the Shea moisture company and hace it revamped to were it won’t fuck up your hair, just so you can have something all to yourself

Now with Kol, I feel like he knows what he’s doing. Like, with everyone in the Mikaelsons that would have had a black s/o besides Elijah, Kol is like second place as the black womans whore. Lemme state my case: We know his witchy ass before becoming a vampire was up in the islands and was in Haiti (very questionable why he was there being Haitian myself, but I digress) Besides eating good and helping in sly ways in the revolution (because as a lone wolf himself and always being treated last and not meaning shit, he’d hate it for others… but even more he loves seeing others suffer, so why not a whole bunch of old ass white men who don’t bathe and were waging wars too big for their britches?)

So I feel like Kol would be adequate at doing plaits, and helping detangle. Like if you’re ever over he puts the natural hair essentials in your shared bathroom, or just your bathroom. Tbh he’d probably scream at you for using Shea Moisture, Treeseme (put that shit away), and OGX. He gets you that expensive ass shampoo and conditioner that you need to keep refrigerated

Probably yells at you to put a bonnet on before you go to bed, but 8/10 he puts it on for you because you forget or sometimes are too lazy to.

But lets go back and imagine him helping you detangle after along day: His ass decided to be nice for once and make you a bath, all hot and steamy. Even used the lavender essential oils and bath salts. Bathroom has the ambient light settings all on. You’re relaxed as hell and getting your shoulders rubbed down by the originals and whatnot, his strong fingers are going in, and it’s a nice time. Until it hits you, you’re going to have to deal with your hair after this hectic day, but already knowing Kol unties your bun and uses the detangler on your ever growing natural hair products stash. Gently moving your head back, he uses the stray spray bottle to wet the hair down and carefully makes your hair into sections to make it easier. He presses the product into his hands and runs it through your hair and finger detangles for you, and the whole time he doesn’t even know it but this is the quietest he’s ever been with you. He’s so concentrated, he’s not even really paying attention to how you’re staring up at him working on you like that. I feel like Kol helping with your hair is a different type of binding time between you guys, something intimate since you allow him to do all that and he’s not fucking around

Now with Klaus it’s kinda hard to tell. Like we all seen this man with this crazy ass wonder bread exes… But then again he did help father Marcel (even though Plec put all that shit in the trash) so tbh I can see him with a poc as long as someone rewrites the whole spin off universe and gives a viable reason as to why and how Klaus fell in love with Caroline, and also Cami. All of that just gives me mad aryan vibes…. Yikes

But… being the tasteful person I am, this man would treat your hair right, but only if you do. Like we all know he’s a straight tsundere and is a maniac among other things and has his moments of sweetness, but like he wouldn’t go out of his way for your hair. Like yeah he’ll give you his card and let you do whatever bc were-vamp daddy has the means. But he doesn’t put as much focus on it. Like if you wear wigs that’s great, but I know in an argument he’d catch your sliding off and not say a damn thing. Won’t even say that your lace is on full display just to clown you and make a fool of yourself. In an argument he’d def come fro it tho, y’all know that this man is ruthless for many daddy issued reasons that were never fuckig solved in this dumbass white woman written se-- Anyways, lemme keep goin

So yeah, he won’t do too much. Like he knows what curly hair is, he knows what shrinkage is and actually thinks it’s cute. And on the basis of wigs he doesn’t care if you wear them or not, just keep your hair healthy and looking good. However, I would be lying if I didn’t think this man had a secret adoration for your natural hair

Like this man is a whole slut for some finger waves on your bald ass, like listen. You wake up looking a lil rough with him and tell him you’re heading out early for a hair appointment you schedule finally finding a good time between his bs and whatever you’re doing, and Marcel’s bc bc idk how that man stays lined up with the chaos going on. Truly.

But he gets over you leaving the bed a little too early for his liking and is like ok, probably thinking it was going to be another wig install or something else of that magnitude. But well, well, well, when you come back with a nice finger wave style and lashes on. This man’s proverbial tail is wagging like he hasn't seen you in months.

And he’s going to act like he hasn’t tasted you in months once he grabs you after his meetings end for the day. Good luck babes.

And it’s a waste too lowkey bc this man fuck syou so well that your hair is back to sqaure one in the next couple of hours, lashes flew off your face, whatever gloss that was on your lips is gone too. Those waves on your head became still water and then dried up into stalagmites. He’s a menace, and you’re even more of a menace to make sure to get the same cute again to get your back blown out by a were-vamp that’s acting like he’s in heat.

If yall were gonna fuck like that with the wig on… take that shit off unless you want to waste money on that wig and have him destray that expensive ass lace. He’s ripping that shit off and I hope you didn’t use Got2B on that either, if you did…. Fly high

Moral of the story… just get the no glue wigs. Because at the end he’ll have you like “Why am I being weird to you?? WHY YOU BEING WEIRD TO ME? You said you wanted to get married. When you had one arm on neck, one arm on frontal leg up. When you had one hand on frontal, hitting from the back with the leg up. FRONTAL OFF AND YOU WAS STILL HITTIN IT”

Klaus denies any claims

Now for Elijah™ he’s a black woman’s whore, don’t @me because you have no case whatsoever. He likes his horchata, and chocolate, and anything in between.

I feel like Elijah is an unsuspectingly well versed with curly hair, no matter how dense or coarse it may be. He knows what to do, and it leaves you questions…. How does this tall ass glass of 2% milk know what’s up??? (he had black beauties before, male, female, all of them doesn’t matter. This man been here waaaayyy too long to not have been a whore at some point)

I feel like Elijah is the type to help you take down your braids, even if they are microbraids (idk why you’d do that to yourself, but hey). Like its been 2 months and the braids got their moneys and whatnot, and it’s time for them to go. And there you are with an old blanket underneath you and a plastic, and with some scissors starting the process of the takedown. But before you even benign to unbraids you take photos of the cute braided bob you have now bc it’s a look. Then start the takedown

By the time half your head is done, your arms are tired. And here strolls in Elijah who was looking for you for a good minute, and he stops to take you in.

Yes you looked a little rough, yes you had dandruff in your hair bc the braids kept them up the shaft even as you kept up your wash routine with the braids in. And yes it did hurt to have your man see you like this, but the way you wouldn’t give a shit by the sheer amount of time it took for the take down…

I feel like mans gets lowkey excited to help you take them down when he sees this, but hides it well. Like, you never really ask for help with your hair as you usually do it yourself, or go to the shop (since he sets up the appointments for you on a regular basis, and pays. Eve makes sure you’re the only one in the shop and they pre-treat the hairs it won’t itch your scalp to hell). He stands there in the doorway and asks if you need help, and being exhausted you wordless nod and stretch your shoulders

If you look closely you can see the mikaelson is skipping up to take a seat behind you on the bed. And the thing is, Elijah is super gentle with the take down process and any braid he can’t detangle alone he’ll leave it and use the detangling conditioner on hand. And it’s honestly having someone do the take down for you.

As he’s going he asks what the new style will be, lowkey itching to see if he’ll get inches to pull later in the month or not… sue him

Because he’s like the biggest supporter of your hair knowing that he doesn’t want you to be overly reliant on it like it’s all you because it’s more than ahri, but not mor ethna ahir at the same time with the history behind it all (cornrows being maps, dreadlocks, all of that)

After taking them the rest down he helps himself to the hair ties and detangling conditioner nearby and sections it like a true king. With the spray bottle he goes to town making sure you don’t get soaked, and applied it all so gently you’d think your hair was extra extra fragile. Tbh he’s enamoured everything he gets to do this, it’s the way your girls spring back to life with some moisture and care. How they clump together and get all bouncy and start to frame your face more as more sections get done. And the smell??? Good lord.

And I feel like he’d be even more sly in other conditions. Like if you were doing it in another part of the house, like in the living room Eliah would ask you to shit on the carpet in between his legs, leaning right into his third leg…. Right

He’d be helping you with your twists and getting them in right after wash day when you’re yet again too damn tired. Because usually you’d be lazy af and put in like 8 twists in and call it a day, but this is Elijah we’re talking about. Somehow where you can’t flat twist nor make straight parts, he can…. Go laugh at yourself bc Madam CJ Walker is rolling in her grave somewhere else

He sits you down and grabs the rat tooth comb and just does it… like he uses the shine and jam gel first to lay down the square of hair and then checks to see if the cream/souffle will work with the gel (see if it clumps of not). Then sprays the area and mixes them in thoroughly and gets to twisting making sure the root is secure.

Mans knows what he’s doing and lowkey uses this as a form of therapy. It’s repetitive and has nice smells. You even got the arms of his dress shirt rolled up and shit…. Good job babe.

Out here getting straight parts, a nice nap, and gentle hands on you for the next few hours… heaven sent. And to top it all off he even oils your scalp for you AFTER HE PUTS ON THE MOOSE AND DOES YOUR BABY HAIRS (if you have any, not everyone has them)

Stop playin and marry the colonizer, or I will shiiieeetttt

Don’t forget to comment!

#elijah mikealson x reader #klaus mikealson x reader #rebekah mikaelson #kol mikaelson x reader #rebekah mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaleson #elijah mikaelson #black reader #black!reader #african american reader #the originals #tvd imagine #tvd x reader #elijah mikaelson x reader

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written-beyond-the-grave · 3 years

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Mikaelsons Black History Month

First off, I’m starting by saying that even though it is no longer Black history month it will always be melanin everyday and black people every day. And everything else under the sun, and if you don’t like it then the exit is to your left. Everything you own in the box to the left

Being part of the Mikaelsons is very fickle business and be some bs. Like really, you’re here with supernatural beings who are over 1000 years old. Who have traveled the world, gained endless knowledge, seen a lot of bloodshed, but you know what they haven’t seen? Their token human (black ofc) being ignant for black history month, I mean who even fully celebrates? How does one even celebrate?

Granted, they’re not racist. But with the writing Julie Pleck did she was playing honestly. That was the worst writing I've ever seen since who knows when. Maybe the nine lives of Chloe king or something? But in my originals universe they were probably racist in the beginning to an extent then grew out of it.

Anyways, they never met someone who celebrated until they met you!

Now repeat after me: I’m black y’all, and I’m black y’all. And I’m black and black and black y’all! FYM

Now…. picture this: A moderately quiet day in the Mikaelson household. Kol is minding his business for once, Rebekah is trying to find the perfect pics for her next instagram post, Elijah is enjoying a good read, and Klaus is organizing his art materials. But then here comes you, the human, opening the door and walking right in like you pay bills (none of them do but you get the picture) in the midst of the most deadly people. Walking in and greeting everyone, walking in with the most hotep, Dr. Umar bullshit getup they ever seen. Coming to America headass.

They recognize your footsteps from a mile away, so when you walk into the kitchen and no one really looks up at first it’ll be a sight to see a whole ass pelted lion on your back. The kente cloth hat (no idea the actual name for it, sorry babes), a saber tooth necklace (for my mans T’Challa), and the red stiletto nails with the afro out here banging.

SHEEEEEEEEESH

Once Elijah is done with his page he looks up to greet you, but then stops… Bitch, fuck is you wearing? This was worlds away from the sweats, and skinny jeans you wore on the daily.

“Greetings Y/N you look…. Fashionable.” Mans didn’t know what to say. Did he miss something about your Africna roots? Was there a holiday he hadn’t heard of, doubt it, but what else was there?

“Thank you Elijah.” You fluff out your lion pelt for added effect, if there was ever going to be one time you outdo the Mikaelsons’ especially Elijah in being dramatic with a coat or cloak of somesort, it would be now.

At this point the Kol and Rebekah have already looked up and were confused. Why are you dressed like that?

Kol is the first one to speak up “Darling, Rebekah likes a fashion show more than anyone, but why do you have a lion… on your shoulder.”

Lifting up your large ass shades you supplied an answer: “Black History Month”

They all looked at each other… they didn’t get it. Like they know what it is, but never actually understood how to celebrate and all that nor did they ever actually give it mind. When you saw that they weren’t making a connection, you started phase 1.

“Alexa, you know what to do.”

And there goes their manor playing: NIGGA NIGGA NIGGA NIGGA NIGGA NIGGA NIGGA I’M ONE HUNDRED PERCENT NIGGA

LMFAOOOOO you got the white people shook. Klaus just dropped one of his expensive ass bottles of art sealants and is vamp speeding to the kitchen to figure out what the hell is going on. Elijah having a mid century crisis on how tf they even found you and deemed you worthy of being in their presence so casually. Kol is having fun in the back, still laughing at your get up. And Rebekah wishes she went to the mall instead, she wanted a girl bestie and got you instead rip

“WHAT IN BLAZES- Y/N WHAT ARE YOU DO- WHAT ARE YOU WEARING! ALEXA STOP THE MUSIC-” And the big bad wolf has arrived. You put your finger to Klaus’ lips which stuns him bc… you’re still HOOOMAN like damn, death wish much? And you look this man, straight in his mit and say “Looks at, look at me” and pause for dramatic affect, “I am the captain now”

Room silent as hell till Kol starts cackling

You’ve made Dr. Umar proud, the ancestors are shining on you once again

With that you lead into a whole speech about the black struggle and black history month, bottom line: REPARATIONS. Because being the only nigga in the Mikaelsons (we don’t claim Marcel) is exhausting, white people shit everyday that you complain about in their faces

TBH at this point they’re indulging you in this escapade.

First victim is Elijah, you ask for his wallet. He gives you a look, I mean he does technically give you what you want and whatever (when y’all dating, refer back to my dating Elijah post), so he ask you why. Reparations sis why, but then you stop yourself. This man gives you his wallet every other day, half the time you not even asking. What could you rob this man of…. Ah. You ask him for the deed of one of his estates in Prague, why? Because you bitches can’t even spell Prague. And under section S line 45 subsection Y it does state that estates are eligible for reparations. Fuck 40 acres and a mule, you got 300 acres, some stallions in the back, a quite possibly haunted mansion, and a heavy dicked (yeah I said it, a sis been trying to reality shift) original who will turn you out by the end of the day and the end of the month…. Wait till women's history month boo

We know his pockets figgity fat, and it would be figgity wack to not get some

Ngl you take Kol with you so he can buy you food. Granted, he knows what you’re doing, but if he’s going to spend money on anything it will be thawed and it will be music. However, one thing leads to another and you’re both at Wal-Mart waiting to find a parking spot. You stole one off a white minivan trying to move in. Not thinking anything of it because who in this small ass Mystic Falls ass, clown ass town really about it? Apparently Karen.

But you know who else what about it? Kol (tbh mans had nothing but time, and he claims you so why tf not.) he out here NY stomping on her and coming at her for badly glued extensions. Cheap ass bitch, ain’t even blend in correctly.

After that Kol and you left with some groceries, a new story to tell, and a chopped cheese.

With Klaus, he frfr wasn’t finna do shit. Being ordered my a human? Lmfao, go find another simp sis. But… once you suggest that his art skills may not be up to par on what you have in mind as a new family room piece for your house he’s all ears. He knows what you’re doing, but… he still wants to prove you wrong. But anyways, you give him a theme… reverse racism. IK y’all, it’s not a thing, but mans has ideas. And he outdoes himself. That and the recreation of the moorish chief bc that man...mmmmm that man was giving.

Ok so Google wanna hoe me, but there was a painting of a black man in a kkk cloak and behind him were white people being hung from a tree. Say what you want, but that photo was fire. If any of you seen it please share it below.

Anyways

Rebekah tbh wants no part in this, but I feel like she’d gave when you ask her to give you all the finest dresses bc it’s an excuse to exhaust Klaus’ money.

Through the month you give the Mikaelsons a run for their money, and maybe sanity. Klaus is in the back trying to research who tf Dr. Umar is and why is he your inspiration

They had to pull you back when the sheriff asked you for your ID. You ask why you needed white man paperwork!

You are pleasing the spirits, what bonnie could never do lmfaooooo. The powers of you enemies aren’t prospering this month nor next month.

You’re not poor this month, anything you poor of is pouring a little more (bars nigga)

LMFAOOOO imaging asking the fam to go to paris, like, they not invited it’s a self trip funded my the Mikaelson Y/N Trust Fund of Public Decency ™

Klaus would be the first one to speak because this man is TIRED, “Love, why do you need a trip to paris? What’s in Paris?”

Knowing better, you look to Kol to answer the question, “I don’t know, Kol, who’s in Paris?” Niggas b. Niggas in paris…. Lemme chill

LMFAOOO enjoy

#klaus mikealson x reader #klaus mikaelson #elijah mikaelson #elijah mikealson x reader #tvd x reader #the originals #black reader #black!reader #poc!reader #poc reader #niggasbelike

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written-beyond-the-grave · 3 years

Text

Elija Mikaelsaon Dating a Black S/O Headcanons

Did anyone ask? No, did I deliver? Yes.

- Alright, so Elijah and the Mikaelson’s have been alive for a while. Never got a specific date, but we have vikings. And as Elijah has been alive for a minute, he’s had flings, situationships, lovers, and at some point out knight in shinning armor was probably a fuck boy… don’t @ me.

- What I’m trying to say is man probably did it all, Asian, Latinx, Caucasian and African American and maybe even African and Caribbean… Maybe even fucked around with his sexuality for a second because he got it like that and the writers were too pussy to put this shit on

- Tbh probably the originals tried all the genders and non-genders, change my mind. But elijah strikes me as a free for all who loves something refreshing that’ll take him out of Klaus’s bullshit for a minute

- But here’s were this shit gets spicey… Elijah… with a black s/o….. Just hear me out poc who been waiting for someone to give them good fucking food on poc x tvd/ the originals, I got y’all… unless college comes back.

- OK so, I feel like if you’re rocking with Elijah he’d dress you up and ice you out because he can. Nothing under $5,000 for his s/o… We talking furs, diamond, real leather, snake skin, hell even a whole ass snake if you wanna be on your Bruce Wayne shit一 better yet, your T’challa shit with a whole ass panther (black panther ain’t real soooo y’all can get a black puma and call that bitch a panther lmfaoooooo)

- He’s asking you to a dinner date and then you say you’re ready…. Wearing pretty little things…. Missguided… honey. (Nah ain’t shit wrong wit those brands, they be having bangers tbh and sales like a bitch) Let him upgrade youuuuuuu. You only wear Givenchy, Yves Saint Laurent, Burberry, Balmain, etc. Try walking out there looking a damn mess and distasteful… just try it sis

- Speaking of which… my mans got you with hair too! Fuck you mean ?1?!

- He had a black s/o in the past, even though her hair had loose curls… we won’t discredit her. He has some knowledge on how curl hair works, and if he’s lacking, he as a whole library and might fuck around and ask Bonnie in exchange for some witchy ingrdients (im cdfuuuuuu)

- Name, braids, twists, locs, finger waves. Wanna shave bald??? He’s for it, let him get you his barber. Fuck it, he’ll get you Marcel’s barber. Lined up and all that shit, throw in a fade too

- And coming in for wash day, he’s sitting behind you days in advance helping you take down your hair after a month or two. Grey sweatpants, scissors in hand, spray bottle to the side with Netflix as background music…. Fuck with it. You’re all tired after doing like 8 and he tells you to take it easy, with vamp speed and the deterixty of those fingers…. *chefs kiss*

- He sets up a lil wash day station for you, or if he’s on the clock just books a whole salon for you alone already paid for. But if he’s doing the work, best believe he spent the coinssss COINS for the organic shampoo shit you have the refrigerator and the deep conditioner, AND THE FUCKING LEAVE IN. He’s keeping your shit moisturized in the winter. His big hands and gentle fingers helping detangle your hair, you in a fluffy robe, enjoying being loved on….

- Y’all didn't even get me started on him doing twists… or plaits, or the bantu knots, the concentration on his face

- IDK why I gotta say this… nails done too, he loves the feel of your nails gliding on his scalp and down on his back when he’s giving you those slow strokes.

- This doesn’t have to do with anything, but the fact that the originals were set in New Orleans which is mostly BLACK BLACK BLACK BLAAACCCKKKKK and I saw like 3 black people in that bitch, ong….. Julie Pleck, you basic bitch

- Anyways, I feel like Elijah in a trench coat coming to pick you up from work would be such a vibe and a mood. Like, he knows when you get off and you might just take public transportation or something to have some sort of independence. But he shows up after work when you’re leaving with some friends from work…. Nigga shows up in a dark blue cadillac, trenchcoat with the collar up, leather gloves… and a fresh cut

- Who tf let him out the house??

- And ik you’re friends trifling too asking who is he, a damn fine tall glass of milké

- And he’s just leaning against the door waiting for you and once he sees you, he waits for you expectedly and kisses your forehead in greeting and gets the door for you

- Speaking of driving, Elijah be too damn serious, and that’s were you come in.

- I need him and the Miakelson’s at a cookout doing line dancing, the electric slide, cupid shuffle (and give Rebekak some goddamn friends shit, she everyone stay chasing love and shit but have 0 friends and boundaries, they drag family though the mud)

- Like I need him out his suit and in some dark jeans, a solid white v-neck, rolex on his wrist, and white air forces

- Sitting there, kinda out of place until he settles in. Like I deadass see him asking where the tables are at the cookout and like… you break it to him he’s gonna have to do the table legs for that shit

- And the plastic cutlery! LMFAOOOOO his soul is slightly quaking

- And its finna be a whole ass test when an uncle comes up and grabs him by the shoulder in a greeting and tries to fill in the seat for spades or even worse…. Dominoes…. That’s it. It’s over. Elijah been alive for too long and knows every play in the book and can bluff his ass off

- But if we talking dominoes… we gon have the boondocks animation version of a nigga moments cuz y’all fights will be started, money will be lost…. To Elijah. In the end he gives it back bc he’s a good sport and bc humiliation is a greater victory

- Lmfaoooo and the quiet drive back, you’re exhausted but the music station is playing throwbacks and Usher’s climax comes on and bitch… the high notes, the lamp posts that give you both a glimpse of each other’s side profiles. And for once Elijah is relaxed and coming down from his amusement. No one is trying to kill him or his siblings, and good food albeit greasy in his stomach.

- Dare he say he felt human for a moment

- You staring out the window and softly singing along enjoying what the day was, Elijah loving the ambiance created. Mmmmmm such a mood

- THAT BEING SAID imagine you and Elijah on a long drive and “I Mean It” by G- Eazy comes on and you start singing along bc data is expensive over long ass drives and being stuck in traffic. And Elijah is giving you a bemused look, you in all your glorious wonder and you just make the lyrics more dramatic ashit trying to be a heartbreaker and all that. But, the true heart breaker is Elijah

- He comes in on the verse and gives you all eye contact, lips completely sync but your can kinda hear his voice keep the tempo…. Bitch this makes me feel some type of way… and as he’s going on he grabs your face and tilts your chin up OOOOUUUU gets up all close and personal and finishes the lyrics which is perfectly timed with when the light turns green and turns back like nothing just happened. There yo are aping like a fish bc tbh if anyone could rap it’d probably be Kol, he’s like the emnemin mixed with busta rhymes type, but tone it down….

- Bitch imma go fantasize rapping Elijah, y’all been slept

- And for those asking yes, I do write for black readers, mor specifically female but I can try male

#elijah mikaelson #elijah mikealson x reader #black reader #black!reader #poc!reader #tvd imagine #tvd x reader

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written-beyond-the-grave · 4 years

Text

Your breath danced in the sky of the frigid air, you were supposed to be inside mingling with the other guests and having fun, but Mikaelson galas were never your thing no matter how much Rebekah forced you to attend. Not that you didn’t know how to party, God knows you knew how to throw it back but the anxieties of a big crowd who ninety-seven percent you didn’t know kept you prisoner to the balcony. And being honest, you didn’t mind. One thing Mystic Falls was good for was their nightlife, you had never seen stars twinkle so brightly or the moon staring down at you so humbly.

“I thought you'd be out here,” you felt a familiar whisper in your ear as two long arms wrapped around you. “Anything the matter love?” Klaus’ stubble tickled the side of your face.

“Nothing.”

“If nothing was the matter, then you’d be out there with me”, he pulled you closer, “showing you off in that ravishing dress that I sat in a dressing room for hours waiting for you to pick.” You could feel the smirk in his voice.

You fought back a smile as you turned around and playfully jabbed your elbow into Klaus’s gut.

“There’s that beautiful smile, now how about that dance love.”

Your face dropped, “But Kl-”

“If it's prying eyes you’re scared of,” he took one of your hands into his, “I’ll stay close to you.” He kissed you hand. “And if it’s the dancing you’re scared of, remember that you are a professional, it anyone has to be scared it me,” he joked in hope of making you feel more at ease.

Knowing you couldn’t resist the accursed Mikaelson charm you caved. “Fine.”

Your ears welcomed the sound of smooth saxophone and delicate piano, there was not a hitch at the gala. As to be expected. Discreetly looking around all the guests were in their best attire, whether rented or bought, for the night.

You caught Rebekah, Kol and Elijah in the crowd. “Y/N! I’m surprised to actually see you’re out here”, Rebekah remarked taking a sip from her wine glass. “And I see that my choice is dress fits you well.” She took a whole scope of the gold ball gown that hugged your body. The gown had off the shoulder sleeves with glitter decorations that matched the gold makeup that adorned your face. It complimented nicely against your brown skin tone making it even more radiant, even you had to agree that you looked like a meal that Klaus couldn’t stop staring at. All observations from how tight Klaus is holding you at the waist and how his fingers are wandering slightly.

Kol turned his attention from Rebekah to you and smiled, “I’m sure Klaus had his hand in this somewhat, but nonetheless happy to see you enjoying the party Y/N.” You nodded your head in thanks, and pulled a curly away from your face that had happened to have fallen out your elegant bun.

“You look beautiful tonight”, Elijah humbly complimented you and gave a cheers with his wine glass.

“Thank you, I can say the same for you all as well”, you complimented them all back with a smile and it was true. Rebekah had on a deep red fitted dress that showed off her curves, Elijah as usual was wearing a suit but it was all plack. Kol was dressed in a classic suit, with a white blouse, black bow ties, and his best accessory his smirk. Klaus was dressed similarly, but instead of a smirk Klaus donned a knowing smile almost as mischievous as the stars you were gazing at earlier. But, this smile brought out his dimples that you loved so much and at times rarely got to see.

Klaus cut in and took your hand, “I am sure you would all be more than delighted to continue complimenting Y/N, but she owns me a dance.” Rebekah rolled her eyes at Klaus’s antics and walked off, leaving Kol and Elijah to their own devices. Not waiting on them Klaus turned to you, “Shall we?”

Craning your neck to look up at him you nodded, “We shall.” He led you to the crowd of dancers and placed his hand on your hips ready for the next slow song to begin. The second the song started you and Klaus started moving, most of your jitters melted in the joint swells of music and pleasure. You felt right in his arms, and he caught in yours, the steps flowing you two like sighs slipping against a silk pillow. Klaus's breath, short and trembling, brushed your hair, and he saw the laughter glitter in your eyes.

“Tell me I didn’t do you a favour tonight,” he whispered in your ear.

You flashed him a rueful smile.

“You wait until I step on all your toes.”

Leaning his head back to let out a laugh you and Klaus continued to twirl around on the dance floor until you needed a drink, excusing yourself for a moment you headed to the bar. You took a seat next to a young man and slouched, calling to get the waiters attention your ordered you drink and slammed it down your throat once it arrived. Not paying to how to the body sitting next to you was staring in amazement.

“Tough day?” They questioned.

“Something like that.”

He stuck out his hand,“Damon Salvatore, a pleasure.”

Grasping his hand and shaking it, “Y/N L/N”

“What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?”

“Enjoying the atmosphere,” you fingered the next drink in front of you.

“You mean enjoying that dance with the devil?” Damon leaned closer to the bar, but turned his body toward you.

You hummed, “Devil? You must mean Klaus. So you were watching me… What’s so wrong about a little dance with the devil? He was God’s favorite,” you innocently inquired. What made this guy so set on Klaus anyway?

“Keyword was. Wouldn’t want to be around a guy like him,” he gave you an award winning smile that didn’t reach his icy blue eyes.

Matching his energy you carefully took a sip of you beverage, “Duly noted.” With that final response you decided to head upstairs for a while to clear your head and take a break from the crowded foyer. However not before noticing a lithe form brunette come talk to Damon, as she was conversing with him she shot a wary look at you then focused back on Damon. You made a face, something about the way she carried herself and her energy threw you off.

Walking into your bedroom you noticed that there was a tower of different types of cupcakes on a stand on your dresser. You bit back a smile as you took the note that was on the tray and read, the note being from Klaus didn’t contain much. Just a ‘For my darling’ but it was enough for you. Klaus probably knew you'd get tired of the celebration going on downstairs with people you didn’t know, how thoughtful. Without missing a beat you shoved a powdered brownie into your mouth in delight. This was proving to be a day in your favor, you decided to sit on your bed and continue to enjoy your time scarfing down the delicious sweets.

However, while being preoccupied with licking the frosting off your finger you didn’t feel a sneaking presence behind you, and from then on your world dimmed from your perspective, and you were welcomed by darkness.

“Mmmhhh….” You groaned awake, there was something stiff sitting under you. If you were still enough you could feel a draft around your ankles.

“Welcome back to the land of the living sleeping beauty,” a familiar voice teased. Your brows furrowed, you clenched your eyes not wanting to open your eyes to the blinding lights that were waiting for you. The whizing of the lightbulbs were making your pounding headache worse, you felt your body sway in the chair you were placed- more like tied to- in.

Not being particularly in the mood for whatever was about to happen, “Suck my left titty.”

“Ohhh such colorful words for a lady.”

Opening your eyes just a sliver, you hissed in pain at the bright lights, “I’ll show you a lady when I shove my foot up your ass.” You gulped right after that comment, your throat was as dry as the Sahara.

You heard some shuffling around the room, “Here”, a cool glass of water was pressed to your lips that you eagerly downed. Gathering enough grit to open your eyes, the lights burned your eyes but you ignored it and took a look of the room you were in through blearly eyes.

Once you realized where you were, you scoffed, “You have got to be kidding me. A cellar? Seriously?” You turned your head forward, your puffy dress making it difficult to adjust your seating. You realized it was Damon in the room with another man, he was older with dull blue eyes and sandy blond hair.

“At least it’s not some creepy tomb,” quipped Damon who leaned back against a wall.

“Enough with the chit chat”, the mystery older man butted in stepping forward, “What is your affiliation with Niklaus.”

Giving him back a dull look, you shifted back in your seat, taking careful note of how the rope tied around your wrists were beginning to rub them raw. Not liking your silence, the man stepped forward and leaned in close to your face.

“I asked you a question”, you could feel his breath on your face.

There was a long pause, internally rolling your eyes you answered, “The white man's whore.” His eyes went wide for a second not expecting the type of answer from your mouth, you heard Damon snort in the background. You had to stifle a laugh, “Kidding, I’m one of Klaus’s friends.”

“Friend? I just thought you were one of mindless blood bags,” Damon muttered off to the side, “That psychopath isn’t capable of having or even maintaining friendships.”

Squatting in front of you, the man who had yet to introduce himself scanned your face and body, “I never believed that my bastard of a son would obtain a friend, a lady to some extent no doubt.” His blue eyes continued to pick and prod at your body, most likely wondering why you haven’t started to beg for your life. You were as cool as the other side of the pillow, almost as if you were treating all of this as a game.

Cocking your head to the side, “So… You must be the infamous Michael, huh. I expected someone more… frightful.” You carefully chose your words and kicked off the heels you were still in, somehow you knew this encounter would take a while.

“An immortal vampire hunter doesn’t scare you?”

“Quite frankly, people in white sheets with holes cut in them have a higher place on my fright-o-meter than you”, you answered smarty and tilted your head. You watched as Michael’s previously amused face morphed into a frown. “So what do you want with me? If you thought I was somehow Klaus then you desperately need glasses.”

Damon stepped in with his arms crossed, “We didn’t, we just thought you’d be somewhat important to the big bad wolf seeing as you’re not dead yet. Considering our coupe d'etat didn’t work out so well, you were plan B.” He relaxed his shoulders, “Or in this case, our collateral damage if things get dicey.” Damon seemed proud of his last minute plan.

There was a pause as you took everything in, “So… What I’m hearing is your sorry excuse for an overthrow failed, so you ran around like headless chickens to try and save your own ass so you kidnapped me.” You squinted your eyes in thought, “And in all of that you left an original- correction Klaus Mikaelson, with ground zero morals free to roam the town in possibility of finding the girl you kidnapped. Man, and I thought you were dumb before.”

“What could you possibly know about killing an original?”

“Nothing”, you shrugged, “but I do know Klaus and he will most definitely set everything in his path ablaze to find something in light of your shitty. In conclusion, he’ll dick your shit.” You finished with a straight face.

Damon seemed to mull this over in his head while Michael turned his attention back to you.

“Ladies, shouldn't curse”, his beady eyes tried to stare through you.

Without missing a beat, “Get fucked-”

The rest of your sentence was cut off as Michael backhanded you and your face went sharply to the side, the sound of the slap resounded in the room.

Damn looked startled, “Wait, I didn’t know harming the h-”

Michael cut him off sharply, “Leave us boy, I have some catching up to do with my sons friend. I see it… obligatory to see what he’s been up to.” He turned his back to Damon to look at you as you recovered from the slap, your cheek was turning crimson.

You grit your teeth through the sting, “You hit like a bitch.” Which almost earned you another that Damon sped over to catch Michaels wrist tightly in his grip.

“You better keep it light with the hits”, Damon whispers through his teeth, eye staring intensely intO Michales. “If your little plan doesn’t work then we’re all fucked.”

Roughly grabbing his hand back, Michael shrugged him off, “If Klaus is the same weak boy that I knew centuries ago, then he’ll be easy to detain. Now leave us.” Damon stared on more for a few seconds, and then took his leave. Michael turned his attention back to you once again, and roughly grabbed your face with one hand.

“So this is what my dear son is so fond of. You have quite a mouth on you… Let’s change that.” And you were met with another backhand to the face that turned your world dark.

The Salvatore cellar smelled metallic and there were droplets of blood on the flood courtesy of Michael. You had been in and out of consciousness for what you could only guess were two days. You whole body felt like it was on fire, you could tell your face was swollen just by the gentle throbbing of it. Damon had been nice enough to make sure you were somehow fed, and took a daily shower. With all this craziness you should've been saved by now. You hadn’t heard a peep out of anyone’s mouth about his whereabouts and it was beginning to scare you.

With how things were going, it seemed like the universe hated you for the moment, your wrists had most definitely been rubbed raw and hurt like a bitch. Your back hurt too with sitting in a chair day and night, you were brought out your thoughts when you heard a distant crash upstairs and some yelling. You tried keeping up with your ears, but your body had other plans and shut down to the amount of stress you were under.

You felt the room sway under your feet, you hissed in pain as you felt someone tug on the rope that tied your wrists behind you back on the chair. Mentally you weren't very present as what was happening around you at the moment. Elijah had just come down the stairs to retrieve you as Rebekah and Klaus dealt with the bodies occupying the upstairs.

Elijah took a look at you and cursed under his breath, dealing with Klaus's mood swings when you were taken was a challenge. But, after seeing the state that you were in Elijah knew that Klaus seeing you like this would open up a whole other can of worms the world was not prepared to see. It took some time for him to calm Klaus down enough for him to think clearly about his next move with the salvatores. It took even more additional time for Elijah and Rebekah to consult Klaus on not using any high-strung anger and or violence when trying to get you back. This all led to the present, Klaus negotiating and somewhat arguing with the salvatores about getting you back, knowing that trip was in order. In addition, Elijah had to console Klaus on Michael being back in Mystic Falls. It was a hard time for the Mikaelson family of seeing their father back. While during Y/N's is absent Kol went on a purge of Mystic Falls trying to find you. He had a record number of the next snaps and missing people's cases in a small town. Rebekah on that other hand was livid as well, as she should be considering you are one of her favorite humans. But she was more calm about the situation unlike Kol and Klaus. She knew that it would only be a matter of time when she found you, and when she did she would have to destroy anyone and everyone who had anything to do with your kidnapping.

That all led to the present, Klaus had Damon pinned to a wall almost about to break his neck with his hand plunged into his chest squeezing his heart. Rebekah had Stefan on the ground with her high heel pressed dangerously close to his neck, she wasn’t one for games at the moment. And there was Kol with his trusty titanium baseball that he knocked out Elena’s kneecap in with. In all the chaos, Michael decided to make an entrance. He smoothly walked down the top balcony with a glass of bourbon with some ice cubes unbothered by the scene as if he expected no less.

“I was beginning to wonder when you lot would show up”, then he took a sip. “You are all quite tardy on your part.”

Stefan struggled under Rebekah’s foot, “Where’s Y/N?”

“Ah ah ah,” Michael wagged his finger, “You’re not in the position to be asking questions, or demanding for that matter. First things first, you have something I want.”

The room went silent, besides Damon grunting on the unrelenting grasp Klaus had on his heart. Klaus stared intently at his hand in Damon’s chest trying to figure out what he meant.

Kol broke the silence, “You mean the white oak stakes.”

“Michael chuckled, “Ah and we have a winner. Without the stakes, no point in getting Y/N back how you found her.” At that remark Rebekah tensed.

“What do you mean,” Klaus growled under his breath.

“I mean, your little… companion is losing quite a bit of blood at the moment. It would be unfortunate for the vampire blood in her system to kick in. At that revelation Klaus’s blood ran cold.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

He smiled and took a long sip of his drink, “Your call.”

Fighting an internal battle, Klaus caved.

“Elijah if you will.” The named original walked in timely with his suit and a large black duffle bag in hand.

“Are you sure about this Klaus?” He questioned with a straight face as he kept his eyes on Michael. Rolling his eyes gave a silent reply. Not waiting any longer, Elijah opened the duffel bag and threw it in Michaels’s line of sight and sped off to find you down in the cellar. Elijah came back up with you in his arms, your dress was ruined, wrists a red swollen mess as well, and your face held purple bruises and some blotches of blood underneath. The originals took a look at you and the room physically dropped in temperature.

“Y/N!” Rebekah and Kol cried in concern, Rebekah kicked Stefan unconscious and ran over to your body to take a closer inspection.

Klaus watched from the distance, his face contorted in unbridled anger, he quickly snapped Damon’s neck and made a walk over to the doppleganger. He slowly squatted in front of her, he watched the look of fear in her eyes as she tried to scoot back with her injured knee. “Get Y/N back to the house, I’ll catch up.” His siblings looked at him warily but didn’t argue and took their leave. His tone was low and dark, “Whatever victory you think you have over me I can fully assure you that you’ve made the biggest blunder of your measly human life. If for a second I even think you’re in cahoots with my father I will slaughter everyone and everything you love.” Klaus paused for dramatic effect, and reached out mechanically to wipe a tear from Elena’s face then roughly grabbed her chin so she could face him fully. “When I’m through with you, you’ll be begging me for death,” he squeezed her face tighter and his look went cold, “If you really thought you could subdue me, then you’re dumber than the Petrova girl.”

Once Klaus got home, he sought to it that the servants inside tend to your wounds and had you on an IV in your bedroom. He watched you like a hawk as they began to clean you up and wrap you in bandages. The damage done to your were only surface level, no completely broken bones but mostly damaged skin and some internal bleeding on your face.

Klaus stood at the doorway into your bedroom to see how you were fairing, he was greeted by the sight of your curly hair in every which way on your satin pillowcase. Stepping inside the room over to your bedside he carefully took a look over you. Klaus's dark blue-green eyes scanned over your face, your previously coco caramel skin was beginning to turn purple and red. He reached out his hand and slowly dragged a thumb across your dark circles, anger boiled in his stomach. Clenching his jaw he took a deep breath to calm his nerves. Getting up from his seat he made his way to the door, but not before shooting one last glance over his shoulder at you.

That night at the Mikaelson Gala, Klaus was having his best time with you. Albeit you were a little awkward on the dance floor, but it's one of the quirks he learned to like the most about you. But the joy that Klaus felt that night was rendered short by the Mystic Falls gang trying to kill him in a poorly planned ambush. Don’t get Klaus wrong, he was always ready for an ambush, he was never caught lacking… Until that night. During his time in Mystics Falls Klaus picked up some things: the town would always foolishly try to save the doppelganger and with all the bat shit crazy things to happen in this town, no on ever decided to move out of town. But the original would have never guessed he’d come face to face with his father, Michael, that night. The only man that has ever struck fear and a multitude of emotions inside him, so of course it caught him off guard when a dagger was nearly plunged into his heart by him.

Watching you in bed in the worst condition he’s ever seen you in pulled at his heart and actually made him feel human which at times he detested. Klaus took the stairs down on his way to his study where he found a glass of whiskey already poured waiting for him. He chugged the glass in one go and relaxed in his chair staring blankly at the grandfather clock next to his large oak doors. Deep into his thoughts he wondered where he went wrong, he was an original of course his power was sublime and unmatched, he could take on anyone. He was the Klaus Mikaelson. But for once Klaus doubted his skill to protect the one he loved, he still got chills from the man that used to beat him and let a tiny gang of misfits best him. Sighing, he opened a drawer in his desk and removed the false bottom. There lied a black velvet box, thumbing the box in both his hands, he took a peek inside the box and stared at the ring. The ring was anything but humbling, but it was a token of Klaus’s love that he thought he was ready to give you. A promise to forever love you, always and forever. But now always and forever seemed short. Pocketing the box Klaus rolled back his shoulders and got up, with the arrival of his father he needed to make preparations for the future. In one swift movement he headed out his door to do some diabolical planning to keep his thoughts away from analysing how slowly his love for you was becoming a battlefield.

Getting out of bed had been the hardest thing to do in days, your hair was in a curly mop that was beginning to become matted, not to mention you had lost some weight from your period of depression. You were nothing short of a mess, but a mess who was trying their best. Throwing your curly locks into a bun you walked out the Mikaelson compound and headed to the one place you could think: How Sway Studios. You had tried to look for Kaus or anyone else earlier when you got out of bed, but no one was home. The illuminating neon lilac sign bounced harshly off your eyes, roughly digging into your pocket you fished out the keys to unlock the studio. The smell of freshly mopped floors greeted your nose and so did the mirror wall adjacent from you. You took in your disheveled look and dark circles.

Wack.

You sighed and connected your phone to the speakers, the whole entire weeks had been a mess. A fuckery among proportions that you had somehow survived. You let the first couple of songs pass over you as you began to stretch on the floor, your joints screamed at you for being inactive for the past days. Coming up from touching your toes you took a moment.

Always and forever, huh? You snorted, the award for the best act of 2014 went to Klaus Mikaelson. Standing ovation, you thought bitterly. Standing up you began to do a few practice basic moves to warm up some more. To say you were angry was an understatement, you were outright ready to air a bitch out in front of his mama. Chakras damn near all the way fucked up.

“Hey, Google.” A ding echoed through the room signifying your device hear you loud and clear. “Shuffle ‘Heavy is the Head’ playlist.”

Oh yeah, you were in one of those moods. You dragged a chair front and center in the mirror already anticipating the sound that’s about to free your soul.

You don't own me

I'm not just one of your many toys

You sauntered around the chair until you slowly took a seat, making sure to keep eye contact with yourself in the mirror. You slowly spread your legs open and dragged your hands down your thighs and legs.

You don't own me

Don't try to change me in any way

In a quick second, you crossed one leg over the other and had taken your hair out of its bun. Coyly fluffing it up as you embodied the energy of the song.

I can always have just what I want

She's that baddest I would love to flaunt

But nope, she ain't with it though

All because she got her own dough

Boss bossed if you don't know

She could never ever be a broke hoe

Up out the chair, you make quick ball changes to the mirror, not forgetting to sway your hips. With a spin you were back to back with the mirror, hands slowly descending beside you. You could feel the speakers vibrations through the mirror into your chest.

You don't own me

Don't tie me down 'cause I'd never stay

Really though, honestly

I get bored of basic bitches

One aerial cartwheel back into the middle of the dance floor, you sashayed to the side and slowly squatted down and mean mugged the mirror. Damn, right you were no basic bitch.

She's the baddest, straight up vicious, texting her asking her

If she's alone and if she'd sent some pictures, she said no

Well goddamn, she said come over and see it for yourself

In the next move, you were on the floor and twisting your body and arching your back off the floor while mouthing the words ‘come over and see it for yourself’ completely getting lost in the music. From that, you snapped forward into a split and crawled seductively towards the mirror.

The next couple of songs became a blur, you were pouring out all of you emotions and the bullshit you felt. You had no idea where the energy and the audacity to pull these moves were coming from, but you weren’t complaining. You were giving the best dance show of your life, unknown to you, to a watchful hybrid at the door.

As the music began to fade away he finally spoke, “Having fun, love?” Klaus stepped forward, “It was a surprise to come back to the house to see you weren’t there.”

Rolling your eyes, you were breathing hard and your legs were aching. Ignoring Klaus you went up to the mirror to fix your hair back into a bun and get ready for the next song. You pulled your arms above your head and stretched out your back only to hear a resounding pop that made you cringe. This was a much-needed dance practice.

You heard a scoff off to the side, “The silent treatment dear? Are we still children?”

I should be asking you that question, you thought to yourself squaring your shoulders. Apparently we are since communication hasn’t been a thing between us for the past few days, I get kidnapped, saved, then completely ghosted? Nah, this isn’t how this shit works. You let angry thoughts run in your mind.

Lover come over

Look what I done

You internally rolled your eyes once you realized the song that was being played, it just had to be a sentimental contemporary piece. Getting into character you hunched your body over and dramatically dung you hands into your curls, in one fluid sweep you swung your leg over in a complete aerial turn around angling your body to the ceiling. From then on you pushed yourself back into a backflip. If anyone had to avoid someone, it should be you. You were the one taken hostage and tortured in the Gilbert’s basement, granted your foul-mouthed insults did egg them on, but who were you without them?

I been alone so long

I feel like I'm on the run

Face contorting into pain you gave a running start into a mid-air split and into a grand jeté. Overall the whole situation was handled, though you came out bloody and battered you lived via care of Rebekah, Kol, and Elijah keeping a watchful eye on you. But who was missing from that equation? Klaus. Who was nowhere to be found, no texts, calls, or even a carrier pigeon to ask how your recovery was. The man ghosted the living hell out of you, choosing to only come at the oddest of hours when you were asleep or avoid the house in general. Always and forever, huh? Your forced your body to lunge to the floor and curve upward with your legs to get back to standing position.

Klaus’s eyes hadn’t left your body once since he stepped in, he had seen you dance before, but somehow this all seemed different. He walked closer to, the music was so loud he could feel it under his shoes. You carried yourself with a melancholic yet rebellious energy, but that wasn’t all that was there. His dark blue-green eyes scrutinized your every move deeply in thought, he knew what he did wrong. Hell, he always did.

Lover Come over

kick up the dust

Your leg extended back as you step balled changed upright, legs shifting smoothing over the glossing floors. The only people that kept you company during recovery was everyone, but Klaus. Even Kol for once humored you with your outdated jokes about Stalin and Abyssinia.

You huffed, and closed your eyes for a second to pull of a pirouette, only to be met with your hand in someone else’s getting spinned into their chest.

“You know I don’t like being ignored, love.” Klaus’s hot breath tickled inside your ear as he held you firmly.

“I could say the same to you,” you sneered as he grabbed you by your hips and hoisted you over his shoulder.

“You know I’m busy.”

You dipped yourself back, crossing over his torso, “Busy enough not see your girlfriend who was recovering from being locked in a basement by mediocre vampires and a witch?” You briefly took notice of his shoes that would eventually scuff up your studio floors, you made a mental note to yell at him for that later. “I’m human, not stupid, love.”

I got a secret

Starting to rust

You landed back on the ground and folded over, hands pressed against Klaus’s chest.

“I never said you we-”

You cut him off, “Then for the love of everything, why the hell did you ghost me in my ‘time of need’?” You came back up and met his eyes, your brows furrowed. He wasn’t making any sense. “You don’t even look like yourself anymore.” And Y/N had never been so correct, she fully looked at Klaus’s face. His under eyes were slightly puffy and dirty blond hair more out of place than usual, though it was only criminal to look this good, this wasn’t her Klaus.

She said I'm looking like a bad man

Smooth criminal

She said my spirit doesn't move like it did before

She said that I don't look like me no more no more

I said I'm just tired

She said you're just tired

Despite their lack of communication, both Klaus and Y/N’s feet and body moved in sync, and there was no reason it shouldn’t have. At first glance, it didn’t seem like Y/N and Klaus would be a perfect fit as a couple, or in Y/N’s case someone to date at all. Klaus was Klaus, a conniving vindictive hybrid with power the only thing on his mind and seeing his enemies bend to their knees. A force of nature to be reckoned with in the supernatural world, and other side. A soul that wanted nothing more to set the world ablaze and sit and iron thrown watching all those who’ve overlooked him as the runt of the litter to burn with glassed over eyes.

And then there was Y/N, a girl who didn’t know when to shut the hell up and got messy real quick when tea was spilled. Unlike Klaus, Y/N had a heart of gold and gave tough love just like her mama when she lost a fight, ‘you’re fighting again, if you don’t beat their ass I’ll beat yours’ her mother's words echoed in her head. Though Y/N always viewed the world in the worst possible light from past experiences, she strived to see the best in it. And by some grace or cruelty depending on who was asking, of the divine she met Klaus Mikaelson. Truth be told they didn’t start off on the best foot, the Mikaelson saw Y/N as a joke within his eyes, but a joke that somehow wormed their way into his heart nonetheless. And unknown to Y/N, she worked her magic on the rest of the Mikaelson clan. Somewhere in between all the bullshit of Mystic Falls and ancient evils trying to take over, Klaus fell in love with Y/N and vice versa, however, it wasn’t all that simple.

Klaus Mikaelson wasn’t the easiest person to love, not by a long shot. And who could blame him? The bastard child born out of wedlock, beaten by his father, one of the originals abominations to roam the earth, daggering his siblings for hundreds of years, the list could go on. The Mikaelson himself knew that, but never let it bother him. A lion doesn’t concern himself with the opinion of sheep, he'd think to himself at times. But, despite his many faults the hybrid managed to find someone who loved him and who’d put up with his brazen attitudes, mood swings, and homicidal tendencies. Which made this all the more difficult to do.

Lover come hold me

Heads on the fritz

Body intoxicated

feelings comfortably mixed

Klaus pulled you in close once more as you swirled gracefully on the floor, you got a lungful of his scent pine and sea salt. He replied, “I never felt more like myself in my life.” You weren’t buying whatever he was trying to sell, hooking your leg around his torso you brought up your other leg up vertically to the ceiling. If he wanted to shut you out, then he had another thing coming.

“You can lie all you want, but I can see right through your shit Niklaus.”

“I have no recollection to what you may be hindering at,” he quipped back and gently dipped you down.

You face didn’t move away from his face for a moment, your eyes looked deeply into his. Searching for an answer to his behavior, “Klaus, after that whole mishap with the Mystic Falls Scooby Doo Gang you went completely silent on me. My ass was in bed damn near depressed and not once did you come to visit. No calls, no text, not even a carrier pigeon.” As you carried on your voice began to rise in volume and speed up.

Klaus’s eyes wavered against yours for less than a second, but that was all you needed.

“And don’t you give me that kicked puppy face, you knew what you were doing.” You felt your face begin to heat up in anger. “So-”

Klaus harshly pushed you away, “So I had to go on a complete rampage to find you after the gala, right after my own father almost staked me with help of that flimsy doppelganger. I had to deal with the dimwitted Salvatore brothers and a Bennett who thought they could stand a chance against The Original.” As he pulled you back in, Klaus heaved you up into his arms and gave you a spin. His voice grew harder, “I had to succumb to a poultry excuse of a hostage situation and wait for days to get the only human-” he put you down with your back pressed against his chest. You dared to stare ahead in the mirror to only be greeted by Klaus’s already staring you, his brought up his hands to gently trace the curve of your arm. “-the only person I remotely care about back. And when I got them back, they looked like the dead.”

His lips thinned in the mirror.

“They looked like the last bit of light in them had died off, their brown eyes no longer held a spark of mischief, they could barely stand on their own.”

He turned you back to him, “I had to watch my you struggle to stay awake, and it tugged at every one of my heartstrings. It made me see that I wasn’t as capable as I thought as an original and that you weren’t merely a chess game on my side of the board.”

He tilted your chin up and whispered through a searing gaze, “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

You couldn’t answer.

Lover come hold me

Could you forget?

I got a secret

Digging a ditch

He moved his left foot backward in a smooth motion, sliding across the slick floor. You slid your right foot forward, chasing his retreating foot with yours, like a fox on the hunt. Dipping forward and looking into your eyes, his fingers tightened on your ribs as his left foot came forward again, surprising your foot and chasing it back. Both souls on the dance floor stopped, toe to toe, Klaus pulled your hips in close to his.

Threatening to brush his lips against yours, he looked to the left, and then to the right. You mimicked him, turning her head opposite. To the right, then to the left.

Klaus kept talking, “It was then I once again realized how fragile humans were, and how dangerous the supernatural world would be for them.”

You face turned into a frown.

Sweating all your sins out

Putting all your thoughts back together

Oh we just don't blend out

All of my attempts seem to weather

Klaus pushed you away as though you were too terrible, yet too wonderful, to be near, yet he held on to your left hand with his right, catching you as his arms pulled taut and spinning you out and away. Then he reeled you back in, unable to give you up.

You fell into him, his strong arms wrapping you tight, protecting you before casting you out again.

“If you think I’m just gonna leave because I’m a “little human” in a dangerous and outlandish supernatural world that will most likely kill me, then you’ve definitely got me fucked up.”

Klaus chuckled at your determination and it was music to your ears, finally seeing his dimples making an appearance was a gift.

Slowly you both stopped dancing and stood face to face as the music continued to its end.

“You were always a firecracker.” Klaus took your hand into his larger ones and drew small circles with his thumb.

“Well, I’m more like a chihuahua that doesn’t know when to give up, but I like your analogy better,” you gave his hand a squeeze.

She said I'm looking like a bad man

Smooth criminal

She said my spirit doesn't move like it did before

She said that I don't look like me no more no more

It felt like ages with the both of you standing there and having a silent conversation with your eyes, but you broke it.

“Klaus,” you began slowly trying to find the words, “can you promise me, and I want your word, that when some bullshit like this happens if it happens again that you won’t shut down. I need you”, you squeezed his hand even tighter as your voice got quieter. “I can’t have you shutting me out again.”

Pulling your hand up to kiss it Klaus held your stare, “I can promise you that”, his other hand slowly crept up to your face to cup your cheek. “Only if you can promise me this, sweetheart.”

Your eyes looked hopeful, but suddenly alarmed as the hand Klaus had on your cheek moved to the back of your head to keep it in place and his eyes looked straight into yours with a mission.

Klaus’s pupils dilated, “I want you to forget about the supernatural world, forget about the the Mikaelson family and everyone you know in Mystic Falls. I want you to go home and start packing, you are to move out of Mystics Falls and go somewhere far far away from here as fast as you can.” Your body slackened at the compulsions and pupils dilated with Klaus’s, hanging onto every word. After Klaus felt that the job was done, he took one last look into your eyes and pressed a soft kiss to your lips and disappeared.

She said I'm looking like a bad man

Smooth criminal

She said my spirit doesn't move like it did before

She said that I don't look like me no more no more

At that moment he didn’t know what hurt more, watching your eyes stare right through him like you didn’t know who he was. Klaus gingerly fingered the vervain necklace in his palm that he discreetly snatched from your neck while dancing, his eyes began to sting and he licked his lips. He stared at the necklace he picked out specifically for you, half of an angel wing that had a gemstone embedded in the middle. He remembered the day he got it for you, he had the back engraved with the message Forever and his matching wing that hung around his neck had the text Always engraved on the back. With a final look, he pocketed the necklace but felt the contact of a velvet box in his pocket that he had been carrying for the past three weeks. Klaus’s heart had never felt heavier, you would always be his forever in his heart, but for the present, you were his ‘almost’.

“Goodbye, love. I’m sorry”

After a few moments you blinked rapidly to fight the nauseous feeling away, slowly your hand slid up to your neck to feel around for a chain. Knowing better than to continue searching fruitlessly for it, you clenched you hand to our chest, and closed your eyes. Taking a shaky deep breath you let your feet slowly start the trek out the studio. As you reached the entrance of the studio the chilling temperature outside made the hairs on your arms stand, you turned to look back solemnly and then continued on your way out never once looking back again. However, you did leave parting words:

“I’m sorry too.”

She said I'm looking like a bad man

Smooth criminal

She said my spirit doesn't move like it did before

She said that I don't look like me no more no more

#not my best work by expect a remastered version in the future #tvd imagine #tvd x reader #klaus mikaelson imagine #klaus mikaelson x reader #black reader #black!reader #poc reader #poc!reader #african american reader #the vampire diaries #the originals #elijah mikaelson #vampires #the vampire diaries imagine

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written-beyond-the-grave · 4 years

Text

Wonder

They say we live in the moment, that the past is always gone, and each day is something new, a stepping stone into a future we dream of even in the cold. For you, that was snow, those wintry days of bluster and ice. You see the earth of yesterday covered as white as any new page and the toddler in me rises as if armed with a rainbow of crayons, eager to set that right. Yet today, you were happy to simply walk in it, create a few footprints of your own. You watched them tumble, those feathered crystals, their chaotic flight to form a blanket that could not be more uniform, more orderly. Yet for some their destination is to come to your hand, to alight upon those ungloved fingers and let your warmth be their spring melt: and to also toss a snowball at the unsuspecting yeti.

You barked out a laugh as you caught an oblivious Phil in the face with the snow, it was all short run due to Phil making a large snowball that’d definitely cause some damage if it hit a human. Making a sprint to dodge, your snow boots crunched under the fresh now to behind a forgotten sled. The impact of the snowball caused the sled to push you first face into the snow, though muffled you could hear the chucking Phil and the other Yeti’s made. Pushing yourself up from the sled with your mitten protected hands you made a show to shake the snow from off your wool coat and black braids that cascaded down from under an aviator hat.

“Nice job Phil,” your frozen lips mumbled, “Now back into the Kremlin I go.” You made a short walk back to the entrance of the Pole, well, one of its many entrances. As per usual the Pole was covered in ice, but not as much due to it being mid July. The bottom half of the workshop that was commonly encased in a block of ice was now sporting a thin layer. That also meant that there was danger of falling icicles as one narrowly missed you by a hair. You froze and stared at it for a minor moment, “That’s nice,” before going in.

The absurdly pulsing heat in the workshop was a rude awakening to your nearly frozen lungs and somehow turned your lips number the they already were. Leaving you winter gear at the door on their respective hooks and cubbies you made your way to your favorite place: the kitchen. Now matter how many times you’ve been in the workshop, it still amazed you. The various tall columns of sturdy wood, the signature red accents with hints of silver and cold. All questionably mixed in with architecture made of solid ice that did not melt in the sweltering heat of the Pole. A feat for the ages, you called it. Your feet in thick socks took a stroll to the kitchen, looking every which way of everyone's hard work. Since Christmas was a little more than halfway there the yetis and elves had cranked up their work ethic, you could tell by the madness going on. Fighter planes were taking test drives under the skylight, zooming past bubbles carrying nuts and bolts, and a few fairy dolls. The floor was littered with a toy army reenacting what could be the Siege of Yorktown, red coats versus blue.

Choooooooo. Choooooooo.

“Woah!” you yelped as a train almost tripped you up. It left an impressive cloud of steam as it went by. Madness indeed. Stopping in front of a worktable full of Rock ‘em Sock ‘em robots there were two elves that decided to micic the fight going on. You let out a small cackle as Steven got knocked off the table from a right hook by Susan, the nearby watching elves erupting in cheers and another half looking disappointed as they turned to Sal and started to pass him off coins. Gambling Christmas elves, also a regular off the books occurrence.

Pushing past the kitchen door you greeted Gretchen, a yeti who was head honcho of fit for a Yeti, or North when he came in for a late night snack. The appliances were a bit too large for you to utilize without a stepping stool of some sort.

“What’s on the menu for today?” You quipped as you took a seat on a tall stool, it had extra foot rests so you could climb. Gretchen made a series of hand motions and grunts, then turned around and pulled out a bowl of soup with grilled cheese on the side.

“Ah, your famous three sister’s tomato soup and grilled cheese supreme, huh? You always know the way to my heart.”

Gretchen looked away abashed and shrugged.

You took a big spoonful of your soup and promptly started to puff out your cheeks and blow, it was hot. But then again you never did like waiting for food to cool down. Gretchen gave you a low look and shook her head in amusement letting you enjoy your lunch she went back to meal prepping. Dipping your grilled cheese into your soup you looked around the kitchen admiring its trimming. Black marble table tops with deep redwood cabinets that had white oval patterns on the edges and snowflake embellished wall edges gave a sort of shine to the atmosphere. That and the floating crystalline chandeliers, each piece was somehow connected to all the others and moves in a circular motion around the ceiling.

Another bowl of soup and a tray was put beside you.

“Again?”

Gretchen gave a nod.

Of course.

You finished up your soup, “Guess I’m off for delivery.” You got off the stool and took the tray and went on your merry way. Although the Pole was incredibly large there was always a shortcut, out in the corridor was a large pulley system that could take a package out almost anywhere in the house. Pushing the tray into the box and climbing in you pressed a hammer symbol button on the wall and watched as the door closed and felt it surge. While on the short ride you pulled out your watch and checked the time, the north star was on the bottom right hand corner. Dinner would be soon.

The elevator staggered to a halt and slowly opened out to a blindingly lit floor from the direct sunlight. You cautiously stepped out, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen a fraction of the floor in this place. Taking the tray out into your hands you marvelled around. There were beakers, some empty, some filled with liquids and concoctions, bubbling or sparkling in the light. There were crystal balls, wands, staffs, wrenches, gears, tools of both magic and technological trades both jumbled together across the tables. Books were crammed nearly to the ceiling as space had ran out long ago on the floor to ceiling bookshelves. Row after row of neatly lined up books with their spines facing outward, colour coded with dots, advanced engineering section arranged in alphabetical order, mythos section, folk magic section with low shelves and floor cushions, comfortable leather arm chairs, tables for quiet study, muffled stillness. Prototypes of planes, wooden cars, and train parts stood as if trophies on the ledges of the room. Even an old record player with a horn, a mini piano, matryoshka dolls, and a glass case of some floating shadow made an appearance

And in the middle of it all, crouched over a desk in his signature red sweater, was North, looking completely in his element in this mix of science and magic. Where color-coded wires formed their own abstract meaning, mathematics meets craft, form meets function. Where technology erupts from the hands of artists and the minds of philosophers, the heart of the truest believer, or the eyes that saw wonder in everything. In his huge hand was a tiny bottle with a single black diamond, which he was frowning at thoughtfully.

You’d met North, or Nik, as you’d like to call him about a year ago in a small cafe in Paris. It wasn’t too hard to spot a 7’2” densely built man in a small coffee shop, nor ignore his French with a Russian accent. Meeting, well, being in the presence of father Christmas was a complete accident. But, what wasn’t was him taking notice of the river chapel you were beginning to sketch that was right next to the cafe. It was tall, spiky, and completely gothic. One of France’s oldest architectural structures you had heard. With a half eaten croissant by your side and a cup of cold espresso you had settled down. All until North looked around for a moment and took in your character.

His first thoughts, you looked dainty: the white layered romper added to that effect and the sunlight on you directly made you look ethereal. Like liquid gold in the most conventional of places, or a sunflower bathing in the sunrays. Your hair was put into two puffs on your head with a braiding pattern in the back to keep your curls from going a stray.

“Maybe try tilting pencil to the left, yes?” You paused for a second and put your hand on your chest looking up. There stood a tree of a many, an absurdly long white beard that was an accent to largely innocent looking deep blue eyes and bushy graying eyebrows. The mystery man’s hair was put into a bun and across his arms there were two things tatted as far as you could tell with his long sleeve rolled up.

Naughty.

And on the other arm: Nice.

“I’m sorry, what?” Who was this man, and what gave him the audacity to talk to you? Couldn’t you mind your business in peace?

“Your sketch.” He gestured with a large meaty hand, “Maybe it would do good to tilt pencil to get desired effect, no?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.” You picked up a Russian accent, what was a Kremlin doing this far near the equator? He pulled out a seat, but before he could sit he gave you the silent question. You nodded and North went ahead and sat down.

“May I?”

You wordlessly handed the pencil and watched the man go to work, he looked concentrated as he started back out the window and cobblestone walkway to the chapel. You watched his big hangs engulfing the pencil work, he made some quick strokes and shaded in some parts lightly as he went.

“Like so.” Finished he pushed the sketchbook back to you. It was well timed since at that moment he was called up for his order. You should see what he meant by tilting the pencil, the slanted edge gave the sketch depth and made the lines bulky and gray enough to seem like bricks. You looked back outside to the warm light, he even got the gargoyle statue in the corners correct.

He came back with this beverage and sat down, “You like?”

“It’s alright.”

He almost spit out his, from what you could tell, a frappuccino with peppermint. Who does that?

“I’m sure you could do better.” He bit out in a laugh, “What brings you to Paris?”

“I got tired of the winter of the big apple.”

“Ah, a New Yorker I presume? Should be used to the cold?”

You leaned forward and grabbed your forgotten cup with your hand and took a long drink. “I could say the same for the Russian. What? Get tired of the frosty frosty?”

He shrugged. “Something of the sort.”

“Something of the sort,” you repeated, “You don’t strike me as sitting in a small cafe and enjoying the pending sunset type.”

He leaned forward and took the candy cane out of his drink and munched on it, “Then what do I strike you as?”

You did a quick analysis, “You seem a little too jolly to be out here, you’re a little far from home, hmmm?” You mused, “You’re… big, I assume a worker of sorts. Maybe a factory? But then again you do a grandfather type fatherly vibe going on. But I think I’ll stick with the private manufacturer owner… What do I strike you as?”

North was surprised you deduced that much in such little time, you almost had the right idea. Almost. “Depends,” he huffed and pulled his arms across his chest and gave you a deep gaze, “Are you naughty, or nice?”

The air was thick and suffocating, you had only been there for a good forty minutes and a husky Russian was giving you quite a plight. You went through the checklist in your head: tattoos, a gold ring on his thumb that made him look like a pimp, man-bun, thick accent, eyes that looked too genuine, and a soft interior that didn’t match his exterior. An oddity that conflicted with your scheduled time in Paris before you hit Germany, an oddity that you had no time or desire for… However, when in Paris, do as the Parisians do.

You stared at him for a moment, “Name’s (y/n).” You held out your hand.

He shook your hand, you could feel the warmth and the calcoususes that graced his hand. The greeting was surprisingly gentle for a man of his size.

“Nikolai.”

“Delivery from the polar express.” You walked up behind him and placed the tray far off from his papers and creative process going on his desk. You pushed up your tippy toes and kissed his cheek, you felt the hairs on his long white beard tickle your nose.

He leaned into your touch and you felt his cheek heat up slightly. “Sunflower!” North snaked an arm around you and pulled you into a hug, you giggled.

“What’s on the schedule today Nik?”

“Djinn is stuck in diamond, may have been a few thousand years old.” He turned around fully to show you the tiny bottle, “Have yet to find place of storage.”

You stared at the bottle for a moment, “You cease to surprise me with you always bring in here. Last week a seemingly cursed puppet, and the week before that was an actual cursed clown doll that kept switching places around the shop.” You shuddered at the memory, never in your life had you felt violated by a clown doll barely two feet suddenly appearing behind you in a mirror. A bellowing laughter pulled you out from your thoughts, North slapped his belly.

“Clown is gone now,” he paused and wrinkled his eyebrows, “hopefully.”

At that you tilted your head and narrowed your eyes questionably, how the hell did you end up here?

“Hilarious.”

Another chuckle erupted. You turned around and walked closely to the window formed by ice, actually, more than half the floor in North’s special experiment room was made of ice. Looking outside the yeti were still out there this time talking the reindeer for walks, hard to believe but Blitzen was giving them a hard time.

“Almost forgot to mention, guardians will be over for dinner and game night. Been a while seen we last met.”

“Game night?” You turned around to face North and leaned against the cold ice. “You mean… Bunny will be there?”

You stifled a smile as you saw North’s shoulders freeze.

“Sunflower－”

“Say less!” With an enthusiastic voice you bounded up back to North’s desk, and this time slowly pushed the tray towards him that he ignored the first time around. “Eat… you’ll need energy for game night.”

His big blue eyes met your chocolate ones, in opposition for whatever your voice signalled for the night. He didn’t like it, game night was fine. However, you and the Easter Bunny were not a good mix. Last game night ended up with paint splattered everywhere at the Bob Ross themed night and a hopping mad Aussie. In your defence, color theory had no place in abstract design when art had no meaning but to be consumed by an audience… a philosophical approach of course. And this sparked a mini passive aggressive argument between you and the Pooka, one thing led to another and what was previously a nice community den turned into a colorbomb of curses, laughter, and acrylic. After that it became known not to leave you and Bunny alone on artistic matters. Civil was not a word in your vocabulary.

Sighing, he dug into his soup not wanting to know what you had planned for this night. He’d hold Sandy on standby if anything occurred. Grinning in success you gave the hulking man a quick hug and bounced off.

North shook his head in, whatever fire you were prepping for, he didn’t want the smoke.

Dinner had been a success, you had gotten Gretchen to whip up some Americanized Chinese food. Not the healthiest, but when working with ancient spirits it was important to introduce them to average human delicacies. Thus the table had a large bowl or lobster fried rice, egg rolls, sweet and sour lo mein with bourbon chicken. MSG had never tasted so good.

“So, how are Mr. and Mrs. Claus doing?” Jack teased conventionally sitting in a chair for once, slouching back he took a sip of his cider. “All is well in paradise? And the master bedroom?”

Tooth dug her elbow into Jack’s ribs.

North put his hands above his head and smiled with glee, “Jack, why would not all be well? Has new evil come? But, eh, why would something be wrong in bedroom?�� He tossed a confused glance to you, while you were busy stuffing an egg roll in your already filled mouth. It was no surprise that the innuendo went over North’s head, he wasn’t very adept in sarcasm either.

Swallowing down your food you answered. “Amazing, it’s like a white Christmas. Every. Night,” then gave Jack a wide toothy smile as Tooth choked on her drink and Sandman made a series of symbols summing up that Jack got owned. You’ve never seen a three hundred and some spirit go as red as a strawberry before.

“Nice going show pony,” Bunny piped up after having a taste of the vegan egg rolls. “Now, dinner was amazing, but we came here for game night.”

North cleared his throat, “And you’re right Bunny.” North let you take it away.

You smirked and pulled out a larger than normal deck of cards, “I present to you all… Uno.”

“So, a card came?” Jack reasoned.

If your smile got a tad bit more malicious showing off your pearly whites. “Not just a card came. Total warfare. Us humans have been playing this for years, its broken up friendships, marriages, and sacred barber companionships. The true test of skill.” You seemed to have mistified Sandy, he was leaning over the table staring at the box in your hand with heightened curiosity. “So lets play!”

Was it just a game of Uno? Yes, but did you find some way to spice things up? Indeed. You had taken the liberty to write down a few options on the special cards in uno. With the help of a sharpie marker you marked down two options on every card, either do as the card said or do the dare. In your reasoning Uno was already too much of an easy game the guardians could figure out, so why not cause more calamity? During the dinner you watched Sandy and Jack go ham with the cider you accidentally spiked with North’s peach flavored Vodka.

“... And then, Man in Moon decided to replace my fear with wonder, and hope an－”

“Uno.”

“What? You were all playing without me!”

“Well, you looked pretty involved in that story,” you shuffled some cards around in your hand and glanced back up, “now draw four.” You got comfortable on the red velvet carpet and crossed your ankles. Everyone was spread out on the rug, Jack Frost sat himself criss-cross while Sandman lazily lounged on him. The tooth fairy, or Toothiana was more invested in the cup of steaming hot chocolate than the game before her while the Easter Bunny was slowly gaining a steady hand of cards.

North grumbled into his beard and retrieved the additional cards. He glanced down at his hand and huffed, this game had been going on for about thirty minutes, it was time to put things into motion.

You put down a draw four card and it was Jack’s turn.

Draw the whole deck or streak down the hall naked.

“Wait… wait.” It was a minute before Jack could catch up. “I think this card is defective.” Wanting to see what Jack was going on about, Bunny took a look and his ears stood up at attention, already knowing why he turned to look at you all cozy.

“Shiela, what is this?”

“A draw four card.”

“But, what’s on it?”

“Options, I know you both can read.”

He gave you a flat look.

You rolled your eyes and sat up straight, “I took the liberty of making Uno interesting, besides spiking the punch, I may have redacted some of the rules of Uno for my own purposes.” You felt North shift beside you, “And I may have used Nik’s high grade bottle to do so, but that isn’t the point.” You shuffled around and pulled out a small stack of cards and passed five randomly to each player. Taking the rests and shuffling them to the deck in the middle, while doing do, “So Jack, you make your choice?”

He shared a look with everyone.

And ten seconds later he was down the corridor screaming. Huh, you really thought he would’ve taken the whole deck. Stunned into silence the group recounted what they just tried to not see. Everyone could only assume the horror the yeti and elves were witnessing as you heard echoing alarmed yells from the yeti and falling items. You’d have to apologize to North later.

“Bloody show pony.” Bunny sighed.

“So who’s next?” North questioned trying to move things along. “Sandy?”

Sandy glowed a lazy gold and pulled out a skip card that Toothiana could get herself skipped or prank call an ex. She chose to skip.

Up next was Bunny, considering you all were playing stacksies he got rid of more than half his cards and put down a draw four on top of a skip leading it to North.

“Take 34 cards or finish… the whole bottle of alcohol. Bloody hell, Sheila you’ve gone mad.”

North could only stare at the card intently and close his eyes in prayer, of course it had to be you.

You nudged the bottle, or what was left of one of his favorite bottles. “Drink up big guy.” You know he needed it with what was left to come in the game.

Wordlessly he unscrewed the bottle and downed it.

Oh, it was going to be quite a game.

You know how people say ‘wow last night was totally a blur’ after a trip from Vegas, or one night from Miami? Or when people sing along to Katy Perry’s Last Friday Night as she recounts the questionable teenage acts she’s done before she hits her midlife crisis? Or possible a disaster remake of The Hangover. You never really got that sentiment until now because last night really was a blur. You tried to rock and bring my what happened last night but all you can come up with Jack stripping, Bunny’s explaining how breeding worked between two Pookas, Sandman projecting one of the most erotic dancing you seen to date via sand, tooth knocking out from a complete sugar rush, and North’s tribute to Rick Roll. You're so somehow got back into your bed and you can only assume North had something to do with that as he usually always does.

Rolling over in the heavenly plush mattress you scooted over to your side of the nightstand. A cup of coffee, it was still steaming and an advil. Definitely North. You smiled at the thought and popped the pill then the coffee, he even remembered you loved vanilla bean. As you continued to drink your coffee you began to feel the pounding headache leave you, but the room was still somewhat spinning. Putting the empty cup back on the nightstand you stretched forward and felt your shoulders pop.

“Jesus Christ.” You yawned and pulled off your bonnet. You surveyed the room for any signs of north. His red robe laid on the armchair of his study desk, and his side of the bed was cold. Crawling over to check if his slippers were gone, there were still there. Huh. Knowing North, he could drink so a hangover wasn’t an actual thing for him.

What time was it? You hopped out of bed and shimmied to the curtains, preparing yourself for the sunlight to harass you. But that never came, either meaning that you slept into the night or it was some ungodly hour before dawn. “You’ve got to be kidding.” Trudging into the bathroom to brush your teeth and check the time, you noted that it was approximately six in the morning. This early, and North was already gone? You slipped a silk robe over your shoulders and headed out in search of the big man himself. After questioning a few yeti and stopping for a breakfast burrito you found North. All the way in one of the Pole’s lower compartments, the training room.

North was practicing with his sabers when you arrived. You had to stop for a moment to appreciate it. Every time you thought you’d seen everything the Pole had to offer, there was something new to find.

The room was large, probably so the guardians could all practice in it at once if they had to, to get used to fighting together. Something you’d seen them do from time to time. The walls could have been anything, under all the padding. The floor was covered in a thick layer of something that gave underfoot, and you weren't sure what it was beyond gentler on someone taking a tumble than wood or stone would have been.

One section of the wall near the doors was full of hanging weaponry. You pictured the fabled “ole Saint Nick”, a jolly man that was all about the children versus the reality of the man who owned all those weapons.

At the moment, North was the only one in the room. He had his sabers in hand – blunted practice ones, you wondered if they were as heavy as the real thing, from where you were standing they seemed just as heavy. But North made it look easy – and he was going through a strenuous routine.

It was on North had been doing for awhile, if the sheen of sweat was anything to go by. After all, North was built more like a bear or barbarian weightlifter than the 'bowl full of jelly' he was called; he was husky for sure, but was still muscle. There was strength under that layer of fat, stronger than people gave North credit for.

At some point North had taken off his shirt, full torso on view and honestly you did not mind. You got a nice view of his back muscles and a large intricate compass tattoo in the middle of his back. It was large, in the middle of the compass lay a crest of some sort with two sabers meeting in the middle. Outside of that harsh black ink spread into eight points, each facing north, south, east and west and everything in between. The main arrows were in the same thorn-like pattern as the rim of the inner compass. And above the north pointing arrow laid a phrase I am the master of my own fate, and under that were words written in perfect cursive calligraphy I am the captain of my soul. The true words of a bandit. Your eyes roamed farther up his back and saw a tiny almost ignorable detail, a small star to the right, well ,the second star to the right. The north star that always pointed to home. All of that shining by the sweat pouring down North, pulling your eyes back down you caught a small peak of the bandit tramp stamp he had gotten one drunken night. You stifled a laugh, you remembered the story behind that one.

Watching as North continued his routine, this time going ballistic on a wooden dummy. You took an easy walk behind him and viewed him up close.

“Hey big red,” you greeted.

North staggered quickly and turned around in the same motion to point his wooden saber directly at your face almost touching you. If it was anyone else your face would have been bashed in but, looking into his startled eyes you probably should stop sneaking up on him. Last victim was a bowl of cereal. North was still breathing hard as he awaited for his mind to catch up to what just happened.

“Sunflower.” He heaved out as his chest dropped, “Did not see you!” He opened his arms wide and you got a good look at his chest. As broad as it was, it was equally covered in curly as white as his beard, there were some hints of black. Before you could veto his hug, you were already wrapped up in his arms. You listened to his heart race.

“Good to see you this morning.” You muffled, and tried to pry his hands away from you, man was this guy a space heater.

He let you go. “After game night, I send guardians home and take you to bed. You fell asleep after Jack’s 8 mile reenactment.” He looked at you closely and pushed a stray braid behind your ear, “Was an interesting game night.” The bottle of vodka North had gulped down earlier did not help erase his memories of what happened a couple hours before.

“I could tell by the hangover, thank you for the bedside assist.”

North nodded and went to put his sabers back in the armory, you followed.

“So, I gotta ask you, big guy… Come ‘ere often?” Your eyes raked down his back, and you saw his muscles tense as he shuffled away from your view. This was new. You blinked for a few seconds in surprise. You would’ve never thought of North as being body shy or ashamed of anything for as long as you knew him. He was always fearless, impulsive, and more of a ‘think things later’ type of guy if the occasion called for it, but never… self conscious. If anybody was, you always figured it would be you, comparing yourself to North's friends. All completely exceptional people who keep the world safe, with seas sof stories and accomplishments to achieve, places they’ve been, or...the list was cut off abruptly as you realized how long North had been quiet.

“Hey,” You said moving closer to North, “You know I didn’t mean any harm.” You put a hand on his back to help alleviate some pain, but it only made the man a bit more tense. “Um...” you paused, searching for the words. The right ones were refusing to come to you, and you didn't want to make this worse, especially if he was reading things wrong.

Fuck it.

“You know I love you, right? All of you.” you said.

You were rewarded with a blush spreading across the parts of North's face you could see and the tops of his shoulders.

He began to turn around. “Is very nice, what you say,” North said, one hand hovering over his belly. “But...” North wouldn’t meet your gaze, knowing better you dropped the subject and moved back to give him some space. Mumbling out an apology you took your leave. Making a few turns you found one of the dumbwaiters and crawled in. North would be in the training room for a while mulling off his thoughts, or his private study. Pushing the hammer symbol you were now back at his magic lab. You wouldn’t just skip over what happened with North just a minute ago.

Taking a seat at his work desk you let out a deep sigh and leaned your face on your palms. Santa Clause, you were dating Santa Clause. Also known as Saint Nicholas, St. Nick, Kris Kringle, Pelznickel, St. Nikolai, and formerly known as the Bandit King. All multiple names for the same face, same body, and same soul. All affiliates to a man who brought joy to the world once a year, operated a toy making syndicate for hundreds of years, fought evil on a regular basis, and tinkered with magic and science on a borderline mad scientist type of way. A being who had a laugh as loud as lions and spread happiness everywhere, that never understood sarcasm, and was hard on himself and unsure at times if the toys that he did make were even worth while.

You closed your eyes in thought. Why haven’t you ever peaced together than North ever had issues himself? Sure you helped him out of toy slumps, but what you witnessed today was far beyond that. The jolly giant himself wouldn’t even look at you.

North was, and is, the Guardian of Wonder. By definition he literally saw wonder in everything around him and puts that into his toys and other creations. The lights in trees, the magic in the air, a diamond in the rough, and any tough situation he found something redeeming.

You didn’t know when you started to walk around, but your legs led you to a particular item. A snowglobe. You tentatively reached out and gave it a closer look, it was of Hunley’s Circus, one of your first official dates.

But, how does one see wonder in everything but themselves? Better yet, how do you make the guardian of wonder who's ever really cared and loved others, give a little love to himself? You rolled the snowglobe in your hands a little more, deep in thought.

Lightbulb.

As quick as the idea came, it flashed away. But you knew exactly what it was. With one final look at the globe you put it back into its rightful place and headed out the room. What you had planned would take all day to execute correctly, but you knew it’d be worth it by tonight. But, all you had was time. And time was your new best friend.

Twas the night to a long day, and as predicted North had been avoiding you. North couldn’t draw his eyes away from the mirror. His shirt tossed aside, he locked his eyes onto the expanse of skin splayed out in front of him. North bit his lip and focused in on the extra fat accumulated around his middle, his fingers deftly trying to flatten it out to no avail. Deciding to take a break from the self torture North put back in his white night shirt, he was sporting a reindeer themed onsie with the top half wrapped around his waist like a jacket.

Making his way to your shared bedroom where he was sure you were asleep by this hour, he stepped in and immediately felt sus. There you were, braids down giving you an innocent look and one of his white shirts that contrasted nicely with your skin. The only source of light was from the lamp on your side of the bed. You closed the book and placed a bookmark to come back to it later.

“Hey, Sunflower.” You smiled brightly at his greeting and motioned for him to come to bed. The bed dipped under his weight as he pulled his legs over the bed to rest properly. You crawled over to him and gave a quick peck on his cheek then went back to your side and slipped under the covers as North did, not forgetting to turn off the lights. In the dark you shifted around in bed to face North back, it was now or never.

“You never answered me,” you began as a whisper, “You know I love you, right?”

North didn’t bother to answer, but you continued.

“You wanna know how I knew? It was Germany, at the circus. Some kids couldn’t afford tickets to get into the circus and were sitting outside listening to what was going on inside. Their eyes were shut so tightly. We were on our way to that circus when you stopped for those kids, you were so concerned about why they were out there on their own…”

“Why long faces?”

“Sir, w- we don’t have enough to buy tickets so we’re doing the next best thing.” A young boy with fiery red hair supplied holding his sister by his side. They were twins.

North got up from his squat and looked around for a second and then spotted a balloon cart. “Wait here.” Leaving for a few minutes to purchase some balloons, North came back with a smile. “You’re just in luck,” he took out an orange balloon, “the real show has just started.” He began to inflate the balloon and when it was a decent size he molded it into a poodle, and handed it to the little girl who stared at him in awe.

He then took a green balloon and white balloon and molded it into a turtle for the young boy, “Here!” With a laugh he handed the boy his turtle. “Do you want to know what’s special about these creatures?”

“N-no,” the boy answered and his sister shook her head as well.

North eyed them both, “They fly for the heart’s of the truest believers.”

The boy gave him a skeptical look, “No way mister.”

“Ahhh, but am telling truth? See,” he pointed his head to the girl’s poodle and saw it begin to take flight around her and stop to nuzzle her nose. This elicted a gasp from the young boy and an inaudible ‘no way’.

“How do I make mine’s float?” Desperately looking to North for answers.

“Believe.” It was a simple command, but the boy looked in distress as he tried. North slapped his belly and chuckled.

“Looks like you did it.” And he did, the turtle was swimming through the air and doing a figure eight.

You smiled from the sidelines watching the interaction, this was far better than a circus. North stepped back and placed a hand on the small of your back ready to lead you to the circus, but you stopped him.

“I think we have a little time before the show actually starts.” You reasoned with him as you maneuvered yourself back to the kids.

You never knew the look North was giving you that moment, but it turned to be one of his most treasured memories.

“No, please look at me.” You began to sit up straight in the sheets, “You know I love you. And I’m not talking about you when you’re happy, but when you’re sad, angry, and down right depressed… ya know?” At that he slowly shifted up, but facing away from you in bed, at that you slowly moved closer and sat behind him and leaned your head against his back, “but, I don’t think I ever showed you how much I love you.”

With that you reached up and quietly took North’s shirt off you to reveal a mustard yellow lingerie set and slowly moved yourself up North’s back and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Let me show you,” you whispered in his ear and hoped he'd allow it.

“Please.”

North slowly turned around to meet your gaze, slowly pulling him back onto the bed you moved to straddle his torso as you ran your hands slowly up his arms.

“You know what I love the most about you?” You questioned while your focus was still on his arms, rubbing them gently. You could feel the muscle tense and jump at your ministrations. “Your hands,” you slip your hand into his and played with his, “it's created so many marvelous things.” You brought it up to your lips for a quick kiss and held it near your chest. “Its punched through who knows what, fought so many battles, and sustained so much damage, and yet it can still be gentle. Drying tears, or holding me tight when I need it.”

You were looking at him, taking your free hand you tilted his head to have your eyes meet. “They’re calcoused, but know passion when you trace my face when I’m asleep, or rub circles on my back when I can’t sleep.” You leaned in closer and got quieter, “They’re hands that love.”

And then kissed him, North’s lips were slightly chapped in contrast to your soft ones. He kissed you back and squeezed your hand, pulling back you put his hand next to your face and held it there. Pulling your hands down, you toyed with the bottom of his shirt and nonverbally asked permission. He didn’t make a move to stop you, so you slipped it off as he lifted his hands to aid you. Placing your hands back on his chest you raked your hands through his hair and kissed him once again.

Gradually you moved your kisses down his neck and past his stomach and over his thighs. As you made your journey, you gave his nipple a little suck and nip, and you took his onesie down too. You slowly spread his legs and got between them, without breaking eye contact you began to kiss between his thighs. You could feel him tense again.

The room was suddenly illuminated, North quickly looked up and saw that the usual wooden ceiling was temporarily changed to a night sky. Looking at you he searched your eyes for an answer. You gave no tells. It seemed as if the sky was truly in your joined presence, North stared a little more and noticed the one star shining brightly than the rest. The second star to the left.

“I love your thighs,” you gave his thick thighs a squeeze, “You're so sexy." you half moaned, half sighing you kissed a lazy, open mouthed trail along the curve of North’s thigh as your hands smoothed up and down his flesh. You stopped to grope gently at the supple skin of his thighs, quivering with tension as North struggled not to instinctively shy away.

“Trust me.”

You continued up and body and splayed yourself over his belly and laid a soft kiss on it. He was burning up and you could tell.

“I-I trust you.” Came a breathy whisper. He couldn’t believe you were doing this just for him, North’s eyes moved up your body and slowly relaxed at the attention.

You took a point to admire his belly, as round as it was and decorated with stretch marks that were shades of pink and purple.

“You talk down on yourself, and don’t even see the wonder of yourself.” You began and slowly traced a stray mark that curved onto his back. “You don’t even realize how you carry the autonomy of the universe within your skin. The holy bodies that made you the way you are decided to leave a mark, a reminder of where you come from.” You laid another kiss as you began to make your way back up, “A place of infinancy, a place of wonder, and place were the north star guides you home from way up above.” You wrapped both arms around him, “A plac- no, kingdom of beauty that I refuse to let you crumble.”

North’s eyes began to water, but you continued, “A perfectly constructed man, who has a heart purer than gold or the untouched waters of the amazons, with the spirit of unbridled fire, and voice as loud as thunder.” You slowly wiped his tears away as you felt his arms come to circle around you.

“A man worthy of love.”

You stared directly into his eyes, even while crying he still looked heavenly.

“You’re beautiful.”

You breathlessly whispered and watched North crumble completely into cries and whimpers. Holding him close you ran your hands through his hair and massaged his scalp, you kissed his temple and let him let it out. You let him know what he was, not his body, but his hands, his mind, his own north star.

His own piece of wonder.

130 notes · View notes

written-beyond-the-grave · 5 years

Text

Da Vinci Code

Word Count: 5,900

Warnings: Mild cursing (btw reader is black b/c SOMEONE had to to do it to em)

I wanna be bold and tag my favorite accounts here so: @writing-prompt-s @madamslayyy @saitamastamaticsoup @canumoveurseatup-no @twilightpocfans @cassandraclare @momolady @imaginepoc @hoe-imaginess

Summer, or as the new generation of civilization deemed it “cuffing season” or “act out season”. Something about warmer weather and not being at an educational facility for eight hours straight for a good three months seemed to always bring out the risque in people. As expected kids and teens would be roaming around the cul-de-sac, some playing basketball in their parent's driveway and others participating in double-dutch competitions on chalk illustrated sidewalks. And as the adolescents played Wallace D. Nolwazi would be miles away from home at the NASA space station in California, soaking up the sun and meticulously building her resume. At least, that what she expected.

The rumbling of the wagon behind her was no match for the choir of raindrops that began to pelt onto the concrete, what had started as a mild drizzle shortly became a full-blown thunderstorm that Wallace’s poncho was no match for.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

Correction: A full-blown thunderstorm with a flood watch in effect warning.

Earlier in the year, Wallace had applied to NASA’s Bright Minds of Today™ Summer Camp were ten lucky applicants were flown out to Pasadena, California for a seven-week exclusive boot camp on the inner workings of NASA. Completed with free room and board, transportation, and a weekly allowance. The ad for the summer camp had been almost too good to be true until Wallace decided to call its coordinators. With confirmation that the program was legit, she meticulously began to work on the programs required an essay on what were the benefits and dangers of new technology rising today. She even emailed her teachers and counselor four weeks in advance for recommendations which contrasted from her usual last-minute nature. To say that she was pumped would have been an understatement after she got a call while attempting to rewire an old computer hard drive that she has been accepted into the program after an over the phone interview.

She was going on a long vacation away from her doting and nosey family, At least, that’s what she hoped until her hope was plucked out her hands like a mean babysitter to a baby’s lollipop.

A sudden loud crack of thunder startled Wallace enough to have her already misshapen glasses drop to the ground into a rushing stream caused by the lack of grass in the area. Pausing, she fished out the glasses and continued on her way back home.

Without her knowledge, Wallace’s mother had planned for her aunt Leila to stay over the summer while she attended an important retreat for the medical board at Bayhealth Hospital. To say that Wallace didn’t expect this to happen would be an understatement, her mother or Maureen as she usually addressed her was notorious for pulling last-minute dips on her plans. But this was the one plan in a while that she specifically discussed with her mother beforehand on the prospect of potentially getting admitted to the program. But, her mother brushed it off with little regret saying that there would be a “next time”.

‘Next time’. Heh.

The phrase next time played on in her head as she entered the already opened garage thoroughly soaked from the ongoing storm. The wagon Wallace had been pulling was long forgotten next to a pile of some scrap metal and a blow torch. Making her way from the garage to the basement took less than twenty steps, it took even shorter to get into the shower considering Wallace had begun to undress once she had left the garage. The rain had made her skin crawl and feel as if there were imaginary ants running along her skin. The cold water and rhythmic beating of the showerhead help her predicament.

Wallace always kept a set of spare clothes in the basement for when she needed them, she seemed to always be in the basement and garage so it was only fitting. Being careful to only drip onto the carpet she took a look into the mirror, honey eyes immediately locked onto her faux locs that were beginning to unravel. To any other person they would have looked freshly done, but Wallace was meticulous over her hair and decided against trying to fix it herself. Knowing well that her hands were a menace to her our hair, vividly remembering the accident of ‘06 at Cardinal Junior High. Her eyes narrowed at the memory as she quickly got dressed in dry clothes and put her hair up.

Compelled to not waste any more time Wallace stepped to a large steel table and sat on the cool wooden stool pulling forward a dull wooden box. Reaching in she delicately pulled out a worn looking pocket watch that admittedly weighed quite a bit in her hand. Its previously blindly gold exterior was tarnished to gray-blue corrosion that had compromised some the gears inside. Taking a moment to gaze at the antique item, the arms weren’t moving and were stuck at 11:22, putting down the watch Wallace moved the ring light above her into place and turned it on. Without looking up her hand reached across the table to pull a magnifying scope right above the watch.

Opening the watch, she set the magnifying scope to a lens best suited to look at its gears. Some were missing and burned out, pursing her lips in curiosity Wallace stepped off her chair and went digging through her wagon. Only picking objects she deemed acceptable and helping her fix the watch. Wallace deconstructed other clocks and gears from different machines from the junkyard that she raided and shaped them down to size with her father's power saw and other tools in the garage. Stuck in her own little world, she hadn’t noticed the moon made an appearance hours ago.

It was around midnight when Wallace’s mother, Maureen came home. The day at the hospital was a rough one indeed, an abundance of trauma patients came in and out of hospital doors and her brain was just about fried by the end of the day. Pocketing her keys, she opened the front door telephone wire and shut the door behind her while putting her purse down.

“Wallace,” she called, thinking nothing of her daughter's absence. She walked herself up the stairs to her room, but not before passing Wallace's was she picked open and called her name again, “Wallace!” Letting herself in she looked around meticulously, where was her daughter? She went to the window to see if anyone was outside but her nerves were rest assured when she saw a light coming from the garage out in the back.

“Wallace!”

Without looking up she quipped back, “What.”

“Don’t what me. It’s ‘yes mom’,” Wallace’s mother crossed her arms as her eyes narrowed at her daughter hunched over form in the garage.

“Yes, Maureen.”

Sighing and rolled her eyes, “I’ve been calling you all around the house for-”

Wallace not being one for aimless chatter, “What did you need.” There was a brief silence that seemed to stretch on.

Maureen licked her bottom lip and took a calming breath, “Wallace I am your mother－”

Mentally rolling her eyes at the revelations, she continued tinkering with the watch in her hand.

“－And as your mother I deserve, better yet you owe me your respect－”

Laughable.

“－Secondly, did you eat dinner? The pasta and chicken I left in the fridge for you is still there.”

Wallace’s figure relaxed a bit, “I had dinner at the Hinode’s. Mrs. Hinode said ‘hi’’.”

“You sure,” Maureen walked closer to Wallace and glanced over at the table unsurprised to see she was doing God knows what with that watch, “And why are you still playing around with that old thing? I know it was grandpa Leroy’s, but that thing’s been busted for a while now.”

Wallace didn’t know why her mother always told her this, like a broken record, every time she came into the garage to find her fixing the old watch. It was a waste of breath in Wallace’s mind since it yielded the same results. She subconsciously clutched the watch tighter in her hand. Grandpa Leroy was her father’s father, he was her father when Maureen’s boyfriend went awol at the altar. Leroy stepped in and helped raise Wallace like his own, he even used to stay with her mother for months at a time. He was the one who got Wallace into technology and fixing things when he first saw her attempting to fix a VCR that had accidentally fallen off a table while playing soccer in the house. It was a good thing that her grandfather used to be an electrician in his working days.

He was the glue that held everything together, up until his untimely death two years ago on a cruise ship sailing around Scandinavia and Europe. The specifics were never explained, but the doctors told her mother that he died of natural causes in his sleep. Since then the usually happily tolerable relationship between Maureen and Wallace had taken a sharp turn. It was beginning to feel like tying a shoe, but instead of looping the strings they were being pulled in opposite directions. Maureen began to shut down by taking more hours at the hospital. Leaving Wallace at home most days for hours on end.

Wallace had a different way of dealing with things than her mother, she became a recluse. Keeping herself in her room or library reading all her grandfather's favorite books. It was Charges: A Retrospect into the Quantum World by M.H. Lyernoff that started her fixation on her grandfather's watch. It was where she found the watch, behind the fake back on one of the shelves in the library behind M.H. Lyernoff’s book. It seemed like any old pocket watch hidden away until Wallace noticed the engraving on the curve of the watch. It was rubbed off but still legible: It’s only as real you make it. Something that grandpa Leroy always used to tell her when she let others make her feel inferior, and the something that got her into the garage some nine months ago into fixing the watch and later restoring it.

She put a comforting hand on Wallace’s shoulder, “It can’t even tell time properly with how it was designed.”

And Maureen was correct, the clock had hands, however not the standard number system. The clock had roman numerals, but it also had a second system under. It was compass-like with engraved circles and dots, but everything was written in a language that vaguely looked like English. Wallace couldn’t figure out what type of manufacturer would make clocks this confusing, or why her grandfather would ever have it in his possession, all she knew was that the compass contraption was supposed to move most likely in synchronicity with the clock above.

Wallace craned her neck around to meet her mother's eyes, "Is that all?" Quite frankly she was beginning to get a little bit antsy in her mom's close proximity to her. There was always something about being in her presence for a set amount of time that unnerved her.

Another stood there from your seconds contemplating what was wrong with Wallace, she was usually irritable yes. But nothing to level like she is at the moment. Choosing to talk about this another day her mother left the scene to go get ready for bed.

Wallace's figure visibly relaxed as she heard from others retreating but steps.

‘Finally’, she thought. ‘I can have some peace and quiet to actually work on this thing.’

And that's how the rest of the week went. Wallace would at times take impromptu trip to the junkyard come back home to her garage and work on her grandfather's pocket watch. Then her mom will come looking for her ask her usual suspect questions of whether she ate or not and drank water then would be on her merry way.

That was until Tuesday evening when a bright pink Chevrolet rolled up in front of the house with bags threatening to fall out the back seats, all driven by a woman with large boho sunglasses and a tightly braided bun. Wallace stared at her from her seat on the couch in the living room with her nearly finished bowl of cereal. Her mother had left three hours before her aunt’s arrival, she knew that she’d be staying for the majority of the summer, but it looked like aunt Leila packed enough for two summers.

When Leila stepped out of her car right into a ray of light Wallace didn’t know what was more blinding: the way her aunt’s skin glowed or the diamond rings that casted a disco reflection. Wallace let Leila in and automatically she shoved her mini handbag into Wallace’s arms.

“Hello, Wally! How’s my favorite niece?” She gave Wallace a toothy grin and walked herself into the kitchen, without waiting for a reply she added, “Be a doll and help get my bags from out the car will you? Thanks.”

Wallace grimaced. Out of all the people, it had to be her. Begrudgingly she went back outside and lugged her aunt’s luggage into the house making sure to drag it someway into the entrance. Wallace entered the kitchen to find her aunt was making herself quite “at home” by treating herself to a slice of cheesecake with a side of strawberry ice cream.

Mid bite her aunt muffled, “Did yuh geh uem?”

Wallace nodded, “I’ll be in the garage if you need me,” and made a b-line for the garage in back but her aunt was quicker.

“Hold on there, Wally.”

She paused halfway out the door.

“Where does your mom keep her Rosé?”

“Bottom draw to your left,” and with that she was gone.

For the past week Wallace had been making staggering advancements in getting the old watch to work. Once she troubleshooted some issues with the gears, re-oiled it, and gave it a new shine it was almost working at full capacity. The only problem was getting the button on top the watch to press down to be able to open the glass screen. She had been fussing over it for hours, not wanting to use too much applied force and end up breaking the piece.

The sun was just beginning to set over the horizon when the watch in question she had been fingering nearly fell, in quick action Wallace caught her grandfather’s watch in an awkward angle where her thumb pushed the button around that elicited a ‘click’. Astoundingly looking at how easy Wallace’s predicament was solved she pressed the top of the watch hoping to open the screen protector. But that never happened, nothing happened for the first few seconds until everything in Wallace’s vicinity began to occur in slow motion. The kid who was going at a moderate speed down the cul-de-sac was now at a turtle's pace.

Wallace’s honey eyes widened. She felt as if her body was vibrating and her brain rattling. Not physically of course, but internally or metaphysically. The world around her began to flow first slowly then all at once, it became a blue of bright colors. Purples, reds, pinks, greens, and yellows swirled around her as if she were in a cocoon of ribbons. She tightly closed her eyes, looking at all of it made her knees buckle and heart race, ‘What the hell?’

At last the spinning sensation stopped and she opened her eyes, however she swiftly closed them again due to the powerful rays of the sun. Raising her hand for some protection against it she took a view of her surroundings.

‘What.. the fuck?’

She was confused, as would be any teenager who was at one second in her garage then in another in a field crowded with tall grass and vibrant flowers. In the distance she heard a clanking noise. Turning around, Wallace noticed a herd of cattle freely grazing and near that was a farm. And a farm always meant people. Giving the field one last tired look Wallace began her trek towards the farm, but not before pulling out her phone to check the date and time. It seemed like it was still Tuesday and about 4:53 in the evening, she unlocked her phone to see if she could get any signal, but the page was taking a while to load.

Looking over at the barn as she got closer Wallace noticed how old school and run down it looked, in a few years it would be down for sure.

“Hello?” Wallace shouted.

“Helloooooo…”

She creaked open the barn door slightly to see nothing but stacks of hay and the putrid scent of manure to greet her nostrils. Scrunching up her nose she let herself in and took a look around. It was out of place for Wallace to see a farm, but no tractor or electric plow of some sort. There wasn’t even a grain silo or a water mill.

‘Maybe I’m in the Amish country… But that wouldn’t explain how I left my garage without physically moving…’

Wallace was halfway through the farm until her ears picked up a shuffling noise, abruptly stopping she turned her head towards the disturbance.

She cautiously called out again, “Hello? I heard that you know…” She pushed her glasses up her sweaty nose, “Anyone there?”

CLANK. CLANK. SHUFFLE.

Her head turned sharply to the side, there it was again… Looking down she saw a decent sized rock picking it up Wallace aimed it at the large stack of hay near of the walls. The rock went straight through the hay, but out came a small scream and a loud thud. A tall figure emerged from the hay speaking in a rapid language that Wallace was in no way mentally ready to process.

‘What’s the universal sign for stop?’ Wallace shushed the figure, which was male with shoulder length curly hair and broad shoulders. She held out her hands in a ‘no harm’ manner to try and calm whoever it was down.

On the other end of the stick, the man was breathing heavily with a sweat soaked shirt covered in dirt and paint.

“N- non volevo sp- spaventarti. Cosa stai facendo qui, eh?” They boy stuttered out. He was staring at his feet then slowly looked up, and his face went pale. “Chi diavolo sei?” His eyes gauged at her like he had never seen a gir－ no a lady such as the one stand before him. He took in her clothing, she was wearing trousers which was anything unlike her ever saw. And they were tight. They made a splash of color recover onto his cheeks. Her hair was long and curly, but they look like impossibly thick strings of pasta coiling down her face. But her skin, that was the most starting things about her. He had seen paintings of angels rendered with pale as snow skin and golden hair colored hair, but the lady before him pushed that all out of the water. She stool clad in sepia skin that glistened with sweat from the walk she had to take from the field. The boy was at a lost for words, here stood an imitation of an angel that embodied the brown sepia tones of the earth all around her and was a reflection of gold itself while in the light.

Wallace stepped a bit closer, she sported a dirty look on her face. The man in front of her stared as if he had never seen a person with brown skin before. Let it be known though she may have scared him she wouldn’t mind knocking out his teeth with her foot it need be. Setting those thoughts aside she came to a conclusion:

“Hello, can you understand me?” If she heard what she thought she thought was Italian, then it’d solve one mystery.

“Sì.” Bingo, Italian just as she thought, though it was more… archaic than she remembered.

“Where am I?”

“M-Milan Italia, on the countryside... Who are you lady?”

‘Italy, huh? Not possible’, but she dismissed it nonetheless. “My name is Wallace, Wallace Nohlwazi. And who are you?” ‘At least I know that Italian soap opera shows on Netflix are doing their job.’

The boy let out an anxiously laugh and relaxed a bit, “My name is－”

He was cut off as a steel rod suddenly propelled out the stack of hay, promptly knocking it down. In the moment you don’t know what moved faster, the stranger that tackled you out the way or the steel rod that embedded itself deeply into the way behind you.

The boy was deceptively heavy on top of you, but didn’t take to notice, “My name is Leonardo, Leonardo da Vinci.” Your eyes widened… then you began to laugh leaving a confused yet concerned face on the boy dubbed the Leonardo da Vinci.

“You have to be joking… da Vinci? Pfft.” You continued your laughter, “Is your name really Leonardo da Vinci? The painter?”

Leonardo gave you a careful sideways smile, “... Yes miss…”

The laughing wasn’t completely out of your system until you noticed the hunk of metal that behind the hay, Leonardo noticed your eyes zeroing in on something behind him. Once he noticed what it was he began panicking and speaking in rapid Italian. There were scraps of metal melded into a large watch connected to gold coins and what looked like to be a handmade wire lifted up into the sky, the gadget wouldn’t be as astounding if it weren’t for the fact that it was vibrating creating a noticeable ‘hum’ that was yet present.

“Oh dear, you shouldn't have seen that... did del Verrocchio send you?” The tall man squabbled on.

The ping of your phone alerted you, ignoring the Italian painter going mad, you reached into you back pocket and unlocked the screen. There, in bold lettering stood a wifi connection that should not be possible in the 1400’s.

CONNECT: IϽNIΛ ∀ᗡ

Taking a moment to tune out the yelling da Vinci, you came to the only possible line appropriate for the situation at hand.

“Absolutely not.”

“－he usually sends one of his men to check up on m－”

Wallace refused to believe that she had somehow got transported into the mid-1400s in Italy, and had met the Leonardo DaVinci. The future, or rather past famous artist and inventor. The whole ordeal seem preposterous to Wallace, at least that's what she wanted to believe. It was a single question of how she got there… grandfather Leroy. Wallace quickly dug into her inner jacket pocket and pulled out the pocket watch. She stared at it critically oh, how could this thing send her miles away from her home and hundreds of years before her time on Earth? But most of all how did her grandfather get his hands on this?

“－just so I’ll abandon my ideas… my greatess works－”

Wallace's mind began to buzz with many theories and accusations of how her grandfather got this watch and how it could possibly work. But, for those hypotheticals it would mean a lifetime of advanced mathematics and science, not to mention quantum mechanics. The bending of time calculated with the speed and bending of light and all acting upon the Earth’s laws of physics? It would have taken over a hundred lifetimes to figure that out even with the most brilliant of minds. At least Wallace thought so.

Suppressing her anxiety and fear, Wallace willed her mind to be still and focused. If it was the watch that got hurt here, then maybe it could take her back. With the shaky hand she pressed her thumb down on the button of the watch and waited... and waited some more... and a couple of more seconds until she realized that nothing, absolutely nothing would happen. Had the watch broken again? Internally this was not sitting well with Wallace's gut.

"－and the Church, Christ almighty…"

"Hey… he－HEY!" She tried to get the attention of Leonardo as he was in a moment of an existential crisis. 'Man, does he talk a lot.' She had to find topic that would catch the young inventors attention, that's a pretty neat electrical resonant transformer circuit you've made…" She saw his form stiffen, "Tell me Leonardo, how long did it take you to invent this circuit that produces high-voltage, low-current, high frequency alternating-current electricity? The Church must be furious…"

Leonardo turn back to face Wallace, for a second his face was serious and calculating her choosing his next words carefully, "You know of science? So I am understanding that you are not one of del Verrocchio men, er women." He visibly relaxed at the conclusion, "And yes it is a circuit that produces alternating-current electricity. It took years to make… But what would you know of any of this?"

Leonardo' s question hung in the air and Wallace wasn't sure if he was asking because he was just curious, or if she was just a girl or even possibly both. Wallace Wade the pros and cons of her next actions. She also replayed every time travel movie that she had ever seen: Back to the Future, Hot Tub Time Machine, Men in Black, and Meet the Robinsons. Granted Meet the Robinsons didn't have the main character travels back into the past, but into the future, however, it was still one of Wallace's favorite films next to Mulan in the Disney category. Wallace telling Leonardo small increments of the future well in the past could have a large effect on the future and her would be present. But, if she wanted to get her whole watch situation figured out and fixed and on her way home as soon as possible. She hoped her judgment on his character was good enough.

"Do you have a private place to talk?"

It turns out that the young da Vinci lived and a farmhouse a little ways away from the barn. According to Leonardo he was doing an understudy, or an apprenticeship under Andrea del Verrocchio who was a Florentine painter. The farmhouse on the countryside was a modest size, yet dull and decoration and color. However it was stuck to the brim with finish portraits, sculptures and other types of art. When Leonardo and Wallace arrived at the house, Wallace found it odd that Leonardo's teacher was present. Leonardo explained that Verrocchio would take impromptu trips into the city to talk to our clients and leave him to his own devices, expecting him to paint and do nothing more. Accepting his answer, they both took seats in the living room on some slightly torn cushioned chairs; Wallace began her story. She told him of the watch, it's configurations, her origins etc, but she was careful not to mention how he would soon become famous in the future.

She talked for hours going into detail into each and every action and explanation she could think of how she got here. Wallace hope that she wasn't losing Leonardo, but by the looks of his face he was hanging on to her every word. Leonardo's face looks spaced out the still focused, his body subconsciously lean towards Wallace's over the table as he had his head leading on his hand for support. By the end of the story she was desperately out of breath.

“And that’s how I got here,” she panted and pushed her locs off her face, “Diagnosis?”

He scanned her with his eyes more a moment, “You are not crazy, at least I am fairy sure of it… You mentioned this watch, may I see it?”

She stared him down, if she wanted to get back to her time. She reached into her pocket and pulled it out, Leonardo gently took it from her hands and examined it. Expertly moving his fingers around each curve and edge of the timepiece he pressed the top button of the watch before Wallace could warn him. As before, nothing happened, time didn’t slow down and the physical world didn’t dissipate.

Humming to himself, he pried open the watch to show the compass like map on the second interface of the pocket watch. ‘Latin,’ he thought ot himself thankful he had been forced to learn the language as a child. The more that he stared at the compass the more it began to make sense. He suddenly got up from his chair that startled Wallace.

“Follow me,” he mumbled going through the maze that was called a house. Soon they both stood upon a large door made of oak, pulling out a key from one of his pockets Leonardo unlocked the door, and held it open for Wallace motioning for her to enter.

“Thanks,” Leonardo nodded. Stepping in Wallace marveled at the chaos that was the mystery room. It was filled with misplaced papers written in Italian and some Latin with designs on it, she noticed one in particular as the flying machine. If anything Wallace realized how history down played Leonardo da Vinci, to her his mind seemed like a real time working machine from the future trapped in the body of the past. Wallace gravitated to Leonardo who was standing in from of a large atlas map, she tried to piece together what she saw to no avail.

He concluded, “It’s a constellation map.” And then quickly moved on to another wall full equation scratched out and rewritten in ink, eyes quickly going over every possible formula.

Wallace moved closer to the Italian, “Ok, and what about it?”

“Your Nonno, I mean grandfather had this as a placement for time. The way that you position the circle and ledger help pinpoint where on Earth you want to be and at what time of day,” he patiently explained inhaling her scent of vanilla and fresh cotton, “And the clock is for what year you wish to be sent you whether past or present.”

Wallace was slowly connecting the dots, “So, the reason why it didn’t work when you pressed the button was because it was already set to a time and place I’m at?”

He nodded, “If you know your direct coordinates I can set it back to your home in America.”

Without missing a beat, “39° 57' 9.2988'' N and 75° 9' 54.7992'' W.” It was the IP address ingrained in her memory if she ever needed. Leonardo took the number and manually set the compass into its coordinates and it was done, he handed her back the clock.

“That is all, you are welcome to go back home.”

Wallace idly looked at the watch in her hands, then back at Leonardo. In a flash she was giving him a spine breaking hug as thanks, “I am so happy I got stuck in the mid-1400’s with one of the brightest minds.” Leonardo’s body was stiff upon receiving the hug, but slowly relaxed and gave her an awkward pat on the back.

“No problem Wallace, you were not meant to be here anyway.”

She broke the hug, “I guess you’re right,” there was a ghost smile on her face, “I guess I’ll see you later?”

He chuckled, he’d be long gone by then but he’s miss his short term acquaintance.

“I guess you will.”

And with a literal flash she was gone from his eyes. Leonardo sat back in his chair with a huff, he needed a drink. A pretty girl who just materialized out his vision, and an insanely logical story all within one day was too much for his mind. He moved himself upstairs to his dainty room full of paint and a bottle of liquor on his painting table. He sat himself down a and took a swig trying to calm his nerves, if that was a warning from God Himself to stop messing with the universe via his inventions then he was surely listening in. Taking the pencil that was settled atop his desk he began drawing random figures among the page.

The day he had, and the person he met were both highly… remarkable, but worrisome at most. For now he knew that science was by no means a myth, but a working subject matter that could bend the will of time and space. Also meaning that his theories on time travel had to be revamped. Putting the bottle down from his lips he pulled down a design for a similar watch that Wallace had, however it was bigger in stature and made to look like a sundial. There were too many synchronicities to his liking, he glanced down back at his hand.

There stood among the small sketches of ravens, hummingbirds, and trees a mini shoulder length portrait of Wallace. ‘The imitation angel,’ he thought to himself. Leonardo leaned back into his chair and blankly stared up at his cracked ceiling, a plethora of thoughts roamed his mind, but he couldn’t help think about crossing paths with Wallace again. Her knowledge and what she could teach him on his bulky electric conductor, deep down he knew that meeting her wasn’t a coincidence. He didn't believe in coincidences. But also also didn’t believe in seeing her again, his eyes glanced at the canisters of paint that littered his other desk, physically that is.

Wallace’s feet met solid ground, then her knees buckled beneath her. Not willing to take any chances, she dug for her phone to see the times as 7:32 in the evening just about the time she had left. She sighed in contentment, she was finally home, but something deep within her told her it was far from over. Whatever this was.

She stared at the pocket watch in her hand. ‘This thing is dangerous and by no means a toy… I don’t know how grandpa Leroy got his hands on it or why he didn’t break it earlier. It would be best for me to destroy it.’ Wallace weighed her options, the watch could bend time and potentially cause some type of world ending danger. Her thoughts were briefly interrupted by her aunt’s loud talking.

“Girl, she got me up her in the suburbs watching her child… I know, I know she a whole doctor she coulda hired a nanny. Best thing is I get to live lavish for the summer while my man traveli－Sis, I told you he gon visit me whenever his lil’ business trip done with, I’m sure my sister won’t mind the extra body.”

Wallace’s body visually shivered, ‘Leila’ she thought in disgust. She turned to the open garage door and admired the soft wind flowing in and the cotton candy and mango colored skies above her. She wasn’t scheduled for anything big this summer, her plans for NASA were in the trash, quite literally. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breathe, ‘I should really destroy this thing,’ she clenched the watch in her hand, ‘But, then again… it is “act out season” for a reason…’ Opening her eyes she stared down at the watch.

She looked at her horizon one more time and watched as the clouds moved impossible slow out of frame and dissipate into strikingly bold colors that put Wallace mind into a frenzy. And soon enough Wallace disappeared from her place in the garage, going with only one thing in mind.

‘Maybe Leonardo might need a muse.’

#writing prompt #writing #black girl #black!reader #black reader #time travel #poc reader #woc reader

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