#at the end i was hoping him to at least warn the group about Esther

[venominmypizza]

Am I the only one who finds the "cat king flirting with Edwin" thing weird because of the ages? Edwin is 16 and the cat king is hundreds of years old and keeps sexually harrassing and making unwanted advances to Edwin the whole time he shows up and no one seems to care?

I didn't read the comics so I don't know if supposedly the cat king is mentally a teenager (which I doubt since he literally called himself a daddy or something) but still that's been one of the creepiest and weirdest set of interactions between two characters I've ever seen

[spine-buster]

peaceful easy feeling ft. b.boeser | one

A/N: Here’s the beginning of my new mini-series!  I hope you all enjoy it.  It will definitely be a bit of an emotional rollercoaster, so be prepared!  There will be five parts!

SUPPORT MY WRITING HERE: https://ko-fi.com/spine_buster

CONTENT WARNING: parents with disease/sickness (Parkinson’s); swearing; sex; alcohol use; lots of emotions.

                                                                   *     *     *     *     *

Brock Boeser felt like he was at some sort of Alcoholics Anonymous meeting, with everybody around the circle introducing themselves and their similar predicaments.  The group was in a big meeting room at the local community centre, and when he walked in, he saw a group of dads playing basketball in the gym.  He sort of wanted to join them instead of being here, in this room, with all these people that he didn’t know talking about what they were going to talk about, but he’d done this back in Minnesota, at his mother’s behest with his siblings, and he was going to do it here, too, in Vancouver, to make her happy and ease her mind and to make sure that he was easing his own mind.  

“Um, hello everyone.  My name is Brock Boeser.  I’m from Minnesota, but I’m living in Vancouver.  And um, I’m here with you all because my dad was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease.”

“Hello Brock,” everyone smiled at him, and he smiled and nodded back.

“So it was your dad that was diagnosed,” the leader, a kind, older woman named Esther who had greeted him at the door and stuck with him until everybody sat down, egged on a conversation.  He knew she was doing it because he was new; everybody in this room probably already knew each other.  A part of him actually wondered if anybody knew who he was.  “When?”

“Um, he—he was diagnosed with Parkinson’s in 2010,” Brock revealed, stuttering it out.  He knew he’d have to be open at these things – open so people could empathize with him, open so he could empathize with others – but it was still tough for him to do so.  “But he—it’s—it’s not just Parkinson’s.  Two years after he was diagnosed, he was in a car accident and suffered a traumatic brain injury.  In 2017, he was diagnosed with lung cancer.  He beat it but then in June it returned to his liver and chest.  In July, he had a heart attack and his heart stopped beating for 15 minutes.  I was with him and—I—it’s—it’s a lot, as you can imagine,” he tried not to start crying right then and there.  Imagine that – first meeting with a Parkinson’s Society of BC support group and he’d bawl like a baby.

“Goodness me, Brock,” Esther said.  “He has support at home?”

“Um, well, money isn’t an issue now, but when I was growing up my mom worked three jobs to make sure we were all taken care of,” he revealed.  “I’d pitch in too wherever I could, obviously.”

“But it’s been tough for a number of years.”

Brock paused.  It had been tough for a number of years.  It had been really tough for a number of years.  He nodded his head.  “Yes ma’am.  I try to take it day by day.”

Esther nodded as well.  “I don’t know if you pray, Brock, but I know a couple of members around the circle do, and, well – you’ll be kept in all our prayers.”

Brock saw a few people nod their head.  Another older woman, probably his mom’s age, clutching a rosary; a Sikh man dressed in a casual suit; a younger woman, probably in her thirties, with short blonde hair.  He appreciated the sentiment.  He knew that people took prayer very seriously – that people suffering took prayer very seriously.  It was, realistically, one of the kindest things somebody could ever say to you: “I’m praying for you.”  “Thank you very much,” he said, nodding his head once.

***

There was an arrangement of cookies at the end of the meeting.  Even after the 90 minutes of everybody talking about their experiences and emotions, they apparently liked to stick around afterwards as well just to mingle.  It didn’t all have to be doom and gloom, he thought.  It didn’t all have to be about Parkinson’s or about sick people or losing your loved ones all the time.  Maybe some people just wanted to talk about the news.  Maybe some people just wanted to talk about sports.  The weather.  Anything.  Anything to make a connection with someone beyond something so tragic.  

After stuffing an entire Fudge-O cookie into his mouth, he looked up to see a young woman staring at him, holding her trenchcoat in her arms.  She was smiling to let him know she was friendly.  He was embarrassed because he knew she just saw him stuff an entire Fudge-O into his mouth.  “Hi,” he said, his mouth still full of cookie, the sound of his voice reflecting that fact.

“You’re Brock Boeser, right?” she asked sweetly.  “You play for the Vancouver Canucks?”

“Yeah,” Brock couldn’t help but smile.  He swallowed the rest of the cookie even though he didn’t really finish chewing it.  “That’s me.  Are you a fan?”

“My step-brothers are more so than I am,” she said.  “But I’m a fan of the team, yeah.  I’m Grace Gillespie,” she extended her hand to shake his.  “God, they’re not gonna believe me when I say I met you.  They’re gonna freak.”

Brock couldn’t help but chuckle slightly.  “Do you—I mean, do you want a picture?  I don’t mind at all.  I’ll sign an autograph on a napkin if you want me to.”

“Well…it’s a bit awkward to ask you at a Parkinson’s Society of BC meeting, but we could go to the Starbucks down the street and I could buy you a coffee.”

Brock was slightly taken aback at her forwardness.  He shouldn’t have been.  Girls came up to him all the time.  All the time.  And they were most definitely not shy.  But he wasn’t exactly expecting it to happen here, of all places.  A bar, sure.  Out with Petey or any of the other guys, absolutely.  But not here.  “Yeah…yeah sure,” he stuttered out.

“Then we should go,” Grace smiled.  She turned to look behind her.  Brock saw Esther picking up a few Oreos.  “Thank you for leading another great session, Esther,” Grace said.  

“Oh you are most welcome Miss Gillespie.  How is Hamish these days?  You didn’t speak much today.”

“He’s been doing fine lately.  His caregivers have been working around the clock for him.  They just work wonders, don’t they?”

Esther nodded.  “They are angels on Earth.  Anyways – we’ll catch up next week,” she said, leaning slightly on her leg to look beyond Grace and to Brock.  “I hope to see you here again next week, Brock.”

“Thank you, Esther.  See you next week,” he said, realizing he made the commitment before he could even realize what he was saying.

***

“I take that was your first meeting?” Grace asked as she set down the two lattes on the table against the window where Brock was waiting.  

“Was it really obvious?” Brock asked.

Grace shrugged her shoulders.  She didn’t want to make him feel self-conscious.  “It was the stuttering that gave it away, at least to me.  I know I stuttered a lot the first few times I came to these meetings.  I wasn’t the most comfortable talking about my dad’s condition to a room full of virtual strangers.  But within just a few months I realized the people in that room are the kindest, most empathetic, most amazing people that I’ve ever interacted with.  So I became a lot more open.”

Brock was transfixed by every word that Grace was saying.  “So you’ve been coming here a long time,” he said.

Grace nodded.  “My dad got diagnosed with Parkinson’s when I was fourteen.  I didn’t start coming here until I was about eighteen, though.”

Brock knew he shouldn’t ask.  He knew he shouldn’t.  But his brain had ulterior motives, and his mouth – well, his mouth listened to his brain, because it apparently needed to know.  “Is your—is your dad like my dad?” he asked.  “Does he have, like, other problems complicating things?”

Grace shook her head.  “No,” she said softly.  “But the Parkinson’s is enough for him.  I mean he was diagnosed just short of ten years ago and he’s already on puréed foods.  It’s not—I mean, you know as well as I do that it doesn’t regularly develop that fast.  But that’s…I don’t know how you do it.”

Brock didn’t know either.  Some days he didn’t.  “I just take it day by day,” he said simply, just like he said in the meeting.  “If I think about it too much…that’s when it’s bad.”

“I hear ya,” Grace said, taking a sip of her coffee.  “But let’s…not talk about this for too long.  Do you like Vancouver?  Do you find it nice?”

Brock appreciated the change in topic.  “I love it here,” he nodded his head, smiling.  “The city’s great.  The fans are great.  My teammates – I mean they’re amazing.  What do you do?”

“I’m a dance teacher at Goh Ballet – little kids and teens, mostly.”

He wasn’t expecting that.  She was drop dead gorgeous, sure – Brock wasn’t blind – but he wasn’t expecting to hear she was a dancer.  “Do you, like, dance in the real ballet?”

Grace snorted slightly at his phrasing of ‘real ballet’.  “No.  I pursued it only up until a certain point.  I was good, but uh, I stopped when my dad got diagnosed.”

“Why?  Don’t they always tell people like us to have, like, an outlet or whatever?”

“They do.  But I loved my dad more than I loved dance.  And I would have rather spent the time that I was spending on dance with him instead.”

He understood where she was coming from, and he wasn’t there to judge her.  “And your brothers you mentioned, did they help too?”

“Oh no no no.  Sorry – I should have specified.  I’m an only child.  Like, the only child between my parents.  But they divorced when I was six and when my mom re-married I gained two step-brothers, Jasper and Theo.”

“How was the divorce?” Brock found himself asking.

“You ever see footage of a nuclear bomb exploding?” Grace giggled as she asked the question.  It caused Brock to laugh too even though the analogy she was making was dreadful.  “It was awful.  The type of divorce nobody deserves, you know?  I became a pawn, basically, and my parents would only speak to each other through lawyers.  Even stuff concerning me.  It was bad.”

“That sounds horrible.”

“It was.  But it’s the only life I know,” she said.  “He was lucky my mom ended up marrying another rich guy.  I mean, my mom only marries rich men,” she giggled slightly again.  “That’s how Jasper and Theo became my step-brothers.”

“So your family has money?” Brock clarified.  “What’s it from?  Dad a lawyer or something?”

“Not exactly,” Grace said.  “My dad and his brothers own a private equity firm that started like this,” she pinched her fingers together, “and went like…” she continued, spreading her fingers and moving her hands around her like a bomb explosion.  “Gillespie Brothers Investments.  I’m sure as a Vancouver Canuck you’ve heard of them.  I mean they wanted to buy the Canucks before the Aquilinis.”

Brock hadn’t heard of them, but he now knew he’d have to do some snooping when he got home. “I haven’t heard of them.  But I mean – sounds like they were successful.”

“Three billion dollars is pretty successful to me,” Grace quipped.

“B—Billion,” Brock sputtered out.  “With a B.”

“With a B,” Grace nodded.  Brock had no idea he was sitting across from the daughter of a billionaire.  She didn’t act like a billionaire.  Not like Brock knew what billionaires acted like.  He’d never met one before in his life.  Well, besides Francesco.  “But tell me more about what you like about Vancouver.  What about the nature?  I always kind of fine a good long walk along the Seawall or through Stanley Park really clears my mind from all…this.  What about you?”

Brock smiled.  “I find the white noise of downtown clears my mind.”

***

“You want my number,” Grace said as a statement rather than a question as she and Brock exited the Starbucks.  They were kicked out.  They’d been there for so long that they’d been kicked out because they were closing.  Their coffees had gotten cold.  They hadn’t ordered new ones.  And now they found themselves on the deserted sidewalk, jackets put on hastily, and Grace came up with that.

Brock looked down at her.  They’d been able to look into each other’s soul for the past few hours.  “Of course I want your number,” he said.  There was no reason to hide it.  No reason to deny it.  No reason to have to wait until next week to see her again as they sat around in a circle in a community centre talking about their parents.

He took out his phone.  She gave him her number.  He texted his name to hers so she’d have his.  When that dance was done, she looked up at him.  “I’m really glad I met you tonight,” she said, her voice sincere.

Brock nodded.  “I’m glad I met you too.  I—I really enjoyed this.  And I mean—I needed it.”

Grace smiled, nodding her head.  “I needed it too.”

“D’you—” Brock stopped, trying not to get too far ahead of himself.  “D’you need a ride home?”

“Oh no no, my driver is right there,” she motioned her head towards a black Mercedes waiting by the curb.

Brock hadn’t noticed the car until now.  “Chauffeur?”

“Billionaire dad,” she winked.  Brock understood.  She took a few steps back before smiling one more time.  “Call me,” she said, before flipping her hair over her shoulder and walking towards the Mercedes and getting into the backseat.  Brock watched as it drove off, making a right at the end of the street.

He would definitely be calling.

[malethirsty]

Loyalty - Marcel Gerard

Summary: With Mystic Falls out of sight and New Orleans in view, you decide to make friends with the locals. Helpful when said friend turns out to be the King

Warnings: M/M smut (21+), Bareback (Wrap Before you Tap!)

When you all arrived at the Mikaelson’s old kingdom, it was nearing lunchtime, so you expected the streets would be empty, however New Orleans was bustling with activity, whether people were visiting shops, eating at café’s or painting in the streets. You winded your way through the French Quarter “Klaus, where are we going?” You asked “The King’s Quarters, I hope they are hospitable to their original king” Klaus explained. Eventually the group reached a courtyard “Hello! Anyone there? The conquering hero returns!” Kol rolled his eyes “Niklaus, no ones here, you can stop hamming it up.” “Look who’s talking!” Tyler snapped back “Guys! We’ve all had a long night, we don’t need to be at each others throats.” You said “Look if we split up & try to find supernatural elements, maybe we’ll find the king in the quarter, “Stefan, you have the biggest chance of draining someone, so I need you to mind our bags, if something happens, we’ll call you to help, everyone else, move out!” With the plan in order Klaus took Rebekah, Elijah escorted a still grumpy Tyler & Kol, and you moved out by yourself, armed with the various detection skills you learnt from The Council & Klaus.

As you wondered the streets for a while, you came across a karaoke bar. Deciding to give it a shot/break, you headed into the roarcus crowd, which mainly consisted of women, which you understood once you glanced to the stage. A beautiful man was performing ‘How You Like Me Now?’ He was dark skinned, had the brightest smile you had ever seen & such a great energy, you found yourself entranced by the man, eventually he saw you & flashed a very flirty wink and a grin in your direction which melted you, how you wanted him to fuck you, then Klaus might turn him so he could be in this open relationship you & Klaus had. Eventually he finished his number & went over to get a drink, you hastened over while the women went back to their business “Sir, excuse me” the man turned “Hello sweet thing, I saw you in the crowd. Here for an autograph? Or something else maybe?” He was very forward but had such a swaveness that you couldn’t be flustered, he let you answer his questions. “Maybe another time, I’m new in town and I needed some help around.” “Sure thing Mr.” “Y/N.” “Well Mr. Y/N I’m Marcel Gerard and something tells me I shouldn’t keep a gentleman like you waiting.” He gulfed his drink down and led you out.

You spent a good time with this new man, as you walked through the Quarter, getting a good idea of where everything was “Thanks Marcel for all the help, but I need to ask you about The King’s Quarters.” He stopped “What? There is no King’s Quarters in New-“ “Look Marcel, your charming to get me to shake me off your back, but I see the daylight ring on your finger, the crescent of the Mikaelson’s is old and faded to blend in with the public, but it’s still there.” Marcel grinned “Well ain’t you clever babe.” “Well after all this is settled maybe you can call me more than babe, but until then, I need to know where the King of New Orleans is.” Marcel let out a gutteral laugh “Baby boy, you’re looking right at him.” You smiled “Thank you, your grace, let’s walk and talk my situation.” You messaged Klaus on the way over ‘I found him, get back to King’s Quarters, also he’s very flirty, do with that what you will’

You crossed back to the King’s Quarters & found the entire group waiting. Marcel crossed over, locking eyes with the hybrid “Klaus” “Marcel” he responded “Wait, THE Marcel?” Klaus had told you about him, the only vampire he ever made, the one he though Mikael had slaughtered. Marcel grinned “This one you have Klaus, he’s smart, don’t let him go.” Klaus smirks “Wasn’t planning on it, never will.” “Been a long time roughly a hundred years since papa ran you out of town.” Your eyes widened, this was not a good way to start a conversation “Yes he did, recently I turned daddy into dust with Tyler’s help, so that takes care of the hunting issue.” Tyler beamed happily which Marcel noticed “You made your own loyal hybrids.” “My fellow creatures, with the help of Y/N. So I’m no longer the lonely King you knew, now I’m a fully fledged hybrid.” Marcel stood to ponder this “If I had known you were back, I’d have thrown you a damn parade.” Marcel broke into a happy laugh which Klaus reciprocated and the two hugged “Well, I guess I owe my sire a drink.” “Amongst other things” Marcel grinned at Klaus’s proposition “Head upstairs the dining room is the ending room on the left” you turned to Kol & Stefan “You two need to handle our bags, I still need to calm you down Kol.” “No matter sweetheart, I have to get ready for a date anyway.” You spluttered “You didn’t comepl a townsperson did you?” Tyler silently laughed not wanting to erk Kol’s wrath “No, I’m capable of making men want me online without having to do some eye magic.” grinning as you turned, you went into Marcel’s pad. A dining room/kitchen was presented, with a long hallway, connecting the bedrooms & the study room. Extremely tired following a long drive & the attempts to find Marcel, you picked a far off room, had Tyler drop your bags in before you yourself dropped off.

After what felt like a blissful sleep, you woke up to the sounds of men shouting: Klaus and Marcel. Agitated, you flapped a pillow over your ears, but couldn’t block it out. Eventually you heard distinctly Elijah, trying to get them to calm down. Once both raised their tones to Elijah, you realised they weren’t being happily rowdy, they were arguing. You stood up, exited your room, not caring your hair was tossled & stomped up to the dining room “Guys, I can hear you screaming down the hallway, what’s going on?” “Marcel is being difficult” Klaus started “Difficult? It wouldn’t be if what you were asking wasn’t public suicide!” Marcel retaliated “So given none of you want to be direct, Elijah will you explain?” “Gladly” Elijah returned to you “Klaus was King of New Orleans and given he was chased out by Mikael, thinks he deserves his throne back, as it would give us protection against Esther if she retaliates, however Marcel has been ruling since he left and won’t give it up.” Now everything made sense “Key word: IF.” Marcel responded “Also there’s protection on the Quarter.” “Not enough if we were able to get in easily.” Marcel brushed this off, “You avoided your authority since you left, why should I even give you the throne back?” “Because I was forced out against my will, I never abdicated, I wanted to return but I had to deal with Mikael and my hybrids.” “There is an entire legacy left by me, how could you ever master it in a day.” “I would master it in less & need I remind you Marcellus, I also have a legacy, all aligning these rooms, even standing before me, however this tapestry of it is showing it’s maker clear disrespect.” “How dare you! You may be my maker but here in New Orleans, I am your king & I demand respect!” Klaus & Marcel’s voices had continued to rise throughout their exchange so they didn’t notice yours bellowing “FOR FUCK’S SAKE, BOTH OF YOU STOP!” You yelled. Klaus & Marcel taken aback, fell silent “Thank you! Now Klaus, we can do this discussion without it turning into screaming, you’ve done it with me. Marcel, a bit of thinking could help everything. Technically Klaus did not abdicate, whenever a leader goes off to a war or on a visit somewhere, they don’t suddenly abdicate, so Klaus should be king, now he has returned.” Klaus grinned but you shot him a warning look, causing it to fall “Now, no one is trying to discount what you have done Marcel, you took something that burnt & made it incredible, however Klaus returning to power means massive protection and Marcel, if your guests are protected here, then why were we able to walk straight in?” Marcel’s slight smile when you complimented his legacy fell at this. “Now, you supernatural’s can process things fast, but for me it’s been less than a full day then when we started running from Mystic Falls, my own home for 22 years! And I have put up with it and not complained, but instead of respect, I’m met with men having a cock fight over something that could be resolved if you weren’t shoving sticks up your ass! Elijah moderate this damn conversation, I’m leaving. And do not call me back unless you have reached a fucking agreement!” You stormed away from the compound, out into the New Orleans night.

You spent a good deal of time looking around, you had purchased a nice set of beads from a trinket shop, and had looked around at the paintings of art. Whilst there you met a woman named Cami, who took you to one of the restaurants and without mentioning everything, you gave her a rundown of what was occurring “Well your partner should know that Marcel is incredibly stubborn. He won’t stop till he gets his way.” “Well that’s marvellous to me!” You said very sarcastically, Cami noticing gave you a hug “I’m sure it’ll work out.” At that exact moment, Elijah went through the door & walked up to you, taking you aside “Klaus & Marcel have worked things out, they are waiting for you at the King’s Quarters.” You nodded, said your goodbyes to Cami and walked back with Elijah. You entered the King’s Quarters and saw Klaus & Marcel sitting together at the table ‘At least they’re sitting together with no sign of a scuffle’ you thought. Elijah excused himself as you sat down “So? What’s the decision” Marcel cleared his throat “Klaus is the king, he’ll have a time of growing into the role, as I’ll help him get used to the supernatural community and how things are run. I’ll stay on as a Vampire advisor.” “See! That wasn’t so hard was it!” You chimed in “I could see how you’d think that, but you know of my history right, how I turned” you nodded “You were 21 years old, a new life on the horizon & you were attacked by a racist. Klaus saved you, and aware you could be struck down by the local racist group, turned you and gave you the skills to take them out.” “Exactly, I’m not the guy to run off from a fight, so me doing this is difficult and rare.” You nodded “It’s a great thing you’re doing Marcel, and we’ll make sure you are still given the respect you deserve.” Marcel subtly grinned while laughing ‘Well, I know you will.” “And what’s that supposed to mean?” You asked.

“Love, there is still a condition that this deal was struck on.” You turned to Klaus as he made his statement “And what was that?” “Marcel wants in on our open relationship.” You turned to Marcel “Yeah, that’s what swayed me, you see I could smell your arousal as you watched me perform and that made my cock hard, if you hadn’t gotten me to take you around, I would have pulled you into the bathroom & fucked you. I also liked how you swung me round when I was arguing with Klaus, you have guts, I can see why my sire likes you. And now, I want to have you as well. So what’s it gonna be, take it or leave it?” He whispered the last part in your ear “You said you were the king, show me that power. Make my mind up for me.” Marcel threw you both onto the table & kissed you, speedily taking both your clothes off “You want Some hot chocolate babe?” “Yes sir, I want every drop.” He grinned “Then suck my cock.” He moved upwards to your mouth as you sucked his cock “Oh fuck!” Marcel moaned “Yeah, like that, suck it down.” As Marcel got his cock sucked by you, he looked forwards to see Klaus stroking himself, his portege and his lover engaged with each other had made him painfully hard. Marcel pulled himself off you & lifted you up to see Klaus “Look what you do to him! The big string hybrid, stroking his cock for you, for us!” You kissed Marcel again, running your hands down his muscular chest “Fuck, you’re so beautiful!” You moaned, Marcel grinned “Well, gotta make my man happy.” You sucked his balls, causing Marcel to throw his head back and scream out “OH FUCK YES! THAT’S IT Y/N! KEEP GOING & YOU’LL MAKE ME CUM!” You pulled off, and heard Marcel whine “Shoot your load in my ass Marcel, I want you.” Marcel’s whine turned into excitement, he grinned before slamming you onto the table before thrusting in.

You let out a massive groan, he was massive, probably as big as Klaus. You set a nice rhythm with Marcel spinning his hips, smacking into your prostate. “Oh fuck!” You moaned out “That’s it baby, fall apart from my dick!” Marcel groaned in such a passionate beautiful way, you leant up to kiss him. “You look so beautiful Marcel.” He grinned “You are as well, look at you, all covered in sweat, gleaming as much as me.” Marcel suddenly changed to vampire speed, making you cry out as you were brought nearly to your end, when he suddenly returned to normal speed “What the?-” you started but Marcel placed his index finger on your lips “Nah uh Y/N, remember you wanted me to show you how I can be King, and this King is benevolent, he wants you to come with him, and I’m nowhere near done.” He shot a grin, pearly white teeth agleam and continued his torturous pace. Your toes curled from how good Marcel was dicking you down, and you clenched them around the table for a grip. Sensing your tenseness from his powerful thrusts, Marcel grinned down at you and persisted relentlessly "Fuck:, he groaned out, throwing his head back, when he turned back down, you saw the familiar black veins under his eyes, he wanted to feed. "Sorry Y/N, you smell mouth-watering, I've gotta have you." he said, lowering himself down to your neck, "Then take me" you softly cooed, turning your head to the side, granting him better access. Marcel did not waste time and struck, drinking you down deeply as he continued to fuck you. The strength of Marcel's pace and his and soon you noticed you were approaching your end “Fuck Marcel, I’m gonna cum!”, the vampire withdrawing from your neck, a trail of blood oozing from his mouth “That’s right Y/N, cum for me, shoot it over me.” You moaned as you did as he asked, shooting your load over his chest, he scooped it up & tasted it “Damn, your load is as good as your blood!” He kissed you, both of you now covered in blood and seed as Marcel resumed his brutal pace, making you cry out even more as Marcel bucked, determined to reach his peak as well. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum! OH FUCK YES!” Marcel yelled as he shot his load inside you. Falling back onto the table, you both drew in breath, Marcel leaning down to kiss you “My king, he’s all yours.” He zipped up to his wide open room, this time the observer and watched the hybrid walk over to you “Well love, when you get your strength back, want to break the table?” You grinned, leaning up to kiss the hybrid. 

[arotechno]

The Heartless: Chapter 5

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Chapter V: in which the proverbial dam breaks

We stayed with Esther for three days. We’d spend the daylight hours working in the field, and in the evenings we’d sit outside and listen to Esther’s stories while the sun sank into the far-off horizon and gave way to the cool summer night. Sometimes, she’d help us in the garden or sit by the back door with the baby; other times she’d spend most of the afternoon in the house, and we’d see her carrying out crates of old-looking memorabilia, like our hard work had inspired her to finally clear out the detritus of an old life that she didn’t lead anymore.

Over those three days, we razed the overgrown garden rows, trimmed back the bushes, and cleared the creeping vines from the side of the house with the old rusted garden tools from the dusty, cobweb-laden wooden bin by the back door. There were several moments where I considered disappearing overnight, dragging an unwilling Petra back home with me before something could go horribly wrong. But every time, the thought of sleeping another night in the treetops and the mental image of Esther waking up one morning to find us gone convinced me to stay, at least until the work was done.

On the morning of the fourth day, Petra and I gathered up our measly belongings from the stable and bid our goodbyes to Esther and the baby, standing between the freshly shorn raspberry bushes with the whole truth sinking into the sun-baked earth unspoken. I began a thousand sentences in my head without finishing any of them, but thankfully, Petra picked up the slack.

“Thank you so much, ma’am, for everything,” she said with a polite nod.

Esther returned her thanks with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Of course, dear. It was nice to have some helping hands around for a few days.”

Petra went in for a quick hug, and if I’d had a heart, I believe it would have leapt into my throat and stayed there, permanently, until I choked on it and died. Instead, I found myself suddenly frozen to the ground where I stood, a thousand panicked thoughts buzzing under my skin until I saw Esther reach her free arm towards me and took a practiced step backward, a trillion possible endings to a million possible nightmares playing out in my head in that one instant.

“Thank you,” I choked out, startling Esther out of the bewildered expression that had crept onto her kind face. “Sincerely, I’ll never be able to thank you enough. More than you will ever know.” I gave her a polite nod to match Petra’s and turned to go, but when we were halfway to the road, she stopped me.

“Ace!” Esther called after me.

I turned around to see her look of confusion soften into something bordering on sorrow.

“I don’t know what it is, and I don’t expect you to tell me,” she began, “but whatever it is, no matter how bad you think it is, it doesn’t matter. You’re always welcome here, if you ever decide to come back. That’s a promise.”

“Please don’t make a promise I can’t expect you to keep, ma’am,” I answered honestly, and then I turned to go, Petra marching solemnly alongside me with her hands clutching the straps of her now full bag.

“You’re good kids, both of you!” Esther shouted, her voice carrying her desperation through the raspberry field down to the road’s edge. “I really mean that!”

I said nothing in return, and looked back only once, to see the baby reaching that chubby hand out toward me from afar. As the tiny house and Esther’s slowly shrinking form began to disappear at our backs, I thought quietly about the argument Petra and I’d had amongst the too-tall weeds that first day, and was left wondering which of us was right.

* * *

Bertrand greeted me with cold indifference when we finally arrived back in the Village of the Heartless. The house was stuffy; it felt more oppressively stark and empty than I remembered, as if I’d been gone for months instead of less than a week. It didn’t seem like Bertrand had eaten much, unless he’d managed to get more food in my absence—the more likely scenario was that he’d been brewing away at failed cure after cure in his study the entire time I had been away. It wasn’t as though he did much else when I was home, for that matter.

The sweltering summer dragged on, slow and sticky like pulled taffy. The weeks passed in much the same way as the ones that came before; Bertrand and I rarely spoke, and I spent long afternoons in the shade of the forest grove having target practice with Petra. She and I had taken to doing odd jobs for the neighbors in exchange for food or supplies, scrubbing kitchen floors on our hands and knees or picking fresh vegetables for the summer harvest until the sun had dappled new freckles across our noses and the tops of our shoulders. Whenever I couldn’t sleep at night (which was often), I’d climb to the top of the oak tree by the village gates with my bow and arrow and wait for someone to show up. No one ever did, aside from Petra—though her escapades were admittedly few now that our days were occupied by work.

Eventually, the days began to grow shorter and the summer heat faded into the crisp early autumn. The leaves on the big oak tree lost their green hue and the air grew drier day by day as the year commenced its twilight march to the cold, dark winter. The mounting tension in our tiny house came to a head on one cool autumn night, when my tired bones finally gave in to the deceitful throes of sleep.

* * *

My parents were very good at hiding the fact that I had no heart in my chest, and they had to be—harboring a Heartless child was against royal decree and would likely get them imprisoned, or worse. The people of Swallow’s Point didn’t suspect a thing, and I was content to keep it that way. I saw no reason to ever be discovered; I was living an ordinary childhood simply by pretending to be ordinary, and it was working.

It was just a beautiful, average day; the neighborhood children were out playing in the grass. In an act of heroics, Basil climbed atop a tree stump, wielding a stick like a pretend sword. We were playing knights, like we always did.

“I’m going to be king!” Basil declared gleefully to our group like a ruler addressing his people.

I turned up my nose and protested, “Basil, we’re all supposed to be knights! That’s the point of the game!”

Basil frowned, fists landing on his scrawny hips. “No, stupid, I mean in real life! I’m going to be king someday!”

"Sure you are,” retorted a kid who reminded me of Knife Boy. “You have to be related to the king to do that.”

Basil shrugged. “Maybe I am.”

“I don’t think so. You’re too weird to be related to King Brutus,” Marcus taunted.

“Don’t speak that way to your future king!” Basil joked, hopping down gracefully from his stump. He landed with a soft thud, worn-out shoes kicking up a cloud of dirt. The dust coated his face and clothes as he and the other boy began play-wrestling in the dirt road where we lived, laughing all the while, and warning bells resounded in my head. I could sense the impending danger from a mile away; it was an instinct I had been honing even throughout the most carefree years of my life, in case I ever needed it.

"Basil,” I muttered, hoping he would hear me and no one else, “maybe you shouldn’t—”

I stopped short, choking on my own breath as the group went dead silent. Marcus had gone to push Basil away and in doing so had placed a hand to Basil’s empty chest. He froze that way, eyes wide, and Basil paled considerably, realizing the gravity of what was happening. The moment cemented itself in my mind’s eye as tension soaked into the air, heavy and still.

“Why were you tricking us this whole time?” Marcus grumbled in a voice too low and too angry to ever come from a child. “You’re cursed! You could doom our whole village!”

“I just wanted friends,” was Basil’s whispered reply, so quiet I almost didn’t hear him. I saw him take a deep breath, chest rising, and then he spoke again, this time louder, bolder, “It shouldn’t matter! We were all friends until just now when you decided something was wrong with me! But that doesn’t change what I’ve always been!”

The entire group of children, save for myself, turned on him in an instant.

I backed further and further away from the scene but couldn’t look away, and in my mind’s eye their pretend-sword sticks became distorted until they resembled Knife Boy’s grimy dagger. I reasoned with myself, assuring myself that he was spry enough, light enough on his feet to escape. But poor, ten-year-old, Heartless Basil who had just declared himself king stared me dead in the eyes with a look that told me to run. So I did. He was foolish to let his guard down, I told myself. It was his own fault for becoming complacent. I almost convinced myself it was true.

  “Ace! Ace, wake up!”

I jolted awake, the residual terror warping the shadows cast by the lantern light into something macabre. It took a moment to will my body to move; my limbs had been reduced to lead, like if I played dead whatever demons haunted my sleep could not hurt me.

“Fuck,” I finally choked out, the hoarseness in my voice making me realize I had been screaming. I hadn’t woken up screaming from a nightmare in years, and it was at that point that I at last noticed Bertrand hovering beside my cot, the soft light from the lantern illuminating his stony features. There was something genuine in his expression—I realized belatedly that it was concern, and for some reason, it made me uncomfortable. Bertrand did not admonish me for my language, but instead stared at me patiently, expectantly, and somehow that made it worse.

"Sorry," I rasped. "For waking you."

Bertrand shook his head. “I was not asleep,” was all he said.

It occurred to me that Bertrand was the only living soul to whom I had ever told the details about Basil’s disappearance and the day I left Swallow’s Point. I had spilled to him one night as a child, the first time I woke him in the middle of the night with my screaming. He hadn’t said much, but he’d made me a cup of hot tea and let me lay my ten-year-old soul bare to him despite the ungodly hour. It had helped at the time, but it didn’t feel like an option now. I tried to steady my breathing, but I couldn’t, not with him looking at me so earnestly like that; it was as though my blood itself were vibrating just under my skin.

“I need to take a walk,” I said, swinging my legs over the side of the cot and reaching for my shoes. I met Bertrand’s gaze, daring him to challenge me, but though he said nothing, his expression softened into a sort of resigned understanding.

“Are you sure you’re in any condition to do that?” he finally asked as I was putting on my cloak with trembling limbs.

“No,” I responded shakily, walking out the door unarmed.

Once I was outside, the fresh air immediately took some of the edge off, and I walked a short ways before my legs gave out like a newborn deer’s and I flopped backward onto the grass. I inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, in and out several times until my breathing began to steady into something approaching normal.

This couldn’t go on any longer. I needed answers, some form of closure, someone to tell me straight to my face to get lost or die for all they cared, something more tangibly final than the memories that haunted me.

That night, I made a rash decision: I had to return home to see my parents.

When I eventually struggled to my feet and headed back inside, Bertrand was nowhere to be seen, but there was a mug of freshly brewed tea waiting on the table, the kettle still steaming on the stove as the crackling fire slowly burned out.

[freddiesaysalright]

Soft in Love Part 1

A Gwilym Lee x Student!Reader Fic

Summary: Y/N is an acting student in her last semester of college. When a professor unexpectedly can’t make it for the senior capstone class, a very famous (and handsome) substitute is called in. When they connect, they face a few challenges. 

Word Count: 2.6k

Tag List:  @psychosupernatural​, @someone-get-a-medic​, @bensrhapsody​, @deakyclicks​, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession​, @minigranger​, @crazyweirdocalledfriday​, @benders-diamond-earring​ If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: Well, you all voted, and here it is! The promised fic! I hope you all enjoy.

Warning(s): None. Just some eye contact and the beginnings of pining!

Part 1 here we go!!!

Gazing out at the auditorium, you swung your legs back and forth as they dangled over the edge of the stage. Your classmates chatted among each other, but you were content in your own thoughts. You preferred not to speculate on why Professor Bennett was so late. Since she was thirty-seven weeks pregnant, it could be anything.

“D’you want to run lines with me, Y/N?” came the voice of Sloan. “Might as well be productive while we wait.”

You turned your head and smiled at your best friend. “Yeah, sure.”

Pulling your knees up, you got to your feet, grabbing your script off the stage. You headed downstage with Sloan. You flipped to a scene you had together, of which there were plenty. You were playing sisters Esther and Rose Smith in Meet Me in St. Louis. You decided to pick the scene before the party in the Smith’s home. You started.

“I’m going to let John Truitt kiss me tonight,” you began.

“Esther Smith!” she gasped.

You shrugged. “Well, if we’re going to get married, I may as well start it.”

Sloan shook her head. “Nice girls don’t let men kiss them until after they’re engaged. Men don’t want the bloom rubbed off.”

“Personally, I think I have too much bloom,” you read. “Maybe that’s the trouble with me…”

Sloan opened her mouth to read the next line, but at that moment, the door burst open and two men walked in. One, you recognized from the department - Dr. Hugh Curtis. An elderly man that loved his job far too much to retire. He was also helping out your class by playing Grandpa in the show. The other man, much younger than Dr. Curtis, but older than you and your classmates, you didn’t recognize. He was handsome with angular features, rich brown hair, and startling blue eyes. He was tall as well. His eyes found yours and you inexplicably blushed.

“Holy shit,” Sloan said under her breath. “That’s Gwilym Lee.”

You pulled your eyes away from his blue depths and looked at your friend.

“Who?” you whispered.

She rolled her eyes. “Seriously, Y/N? Gwilym Lee, the actor. A famous one.”

“I’ve never seen him in anything,” you returned with a shrug.

“He was in Bohemian Rhapsody just last year,” she remarked.

“I never saw that,” you reminded her.

When the men reached the class, you and Sloan stopped your whispering debate and focused on them. Your eyes lingered on Gwilym, whose striking face made you feel so incredibly...something. You weren’t sure what. Attraction? That seemed too obvious. Desire? That wasn’t really like you. Attachment? You hardly knew him.

“Good morning, everyone,” said Dr. Curtis. “I’m pleased to announce that Professor Bennett went into labor last night, and delivered a healthy baby boy.”

Andrew, your other best friend and co-star in the show, whooped loudly while the rest of the class politely applauded. You and Sloan exchanged excited smiles.

“Yes, yes,” Dr. Curtis went on, quieting everyone down. “Mother and baby are perfectly well and are expected to go home from the hospital tomorrow. Unfortunately, since she is now on maternity leave, she’s unable to teach this class and direct your show. To replace her, I called in a dear friend and former student of mine, Mr. Gwilym Lee.”

Everyone clapped again as Gwilym smiled bashfully and looked around at the class. When his eyes met yours again, you nearly stopped breathing. His face seemed to freeze as well, but he quickly shook his head and cleared his throat. Then he looked at the other students.

“Hello, everyone,” he said with a friendly wave. “I’m very excited to be with your class. Luckily, you’re only a week into the semester, so I hope I don’t have too much catching up to do.”

“We’re lucky to have you,” Edith, your older classmate, spoke up. She was around thirty, and was going to college later since she had children so early in life. “If you need any help, catching up, you can always ask me.”

Gwilym smiled kindly and nodded at her.

Sloan leaned over your shoulder and whispered in your ear, “Desperate, much?”

You bit back a laugh. You didn’t enjoy making fun of Edith, but she did have such a superiority complex about being the oldest in the class. She was also a bit more experienced, acting in small productions outside the city. But she was awfully confident for someone who had never actually starred in anything. You could almost hear how everyone else rolled their eyes.

“Thank you, Edith,” said Dr. Curtis. “Now, this class is only seventy-five minutes, we’ve got to begin rehearsal.”

Gwilym looked over at you and your friend, willing you to catch his eye again. You didn’t. He sighed and wondered why that disappointed him so much. That first moment of eye contact had him reeling. You were captivating and beautiful. And he didn’t even know your name.

The woman named Edith tapped him on the shoulder, pulling him out of his reverie.

“I’m Edith,” she said, sticking out her hand.

“I gathered,” he returned, shaking it.

She giggled.

“It’s nice to meet you, Edith,” he said. “Gwilym.”

“Oh, I know who you are,” she replied, raising her eyebrows at him.

“Who are you playing in the show?” he asked, becoming slightly uncomfortable under her gaze.

“I’m Katie, the maid,” she told him, and he detected some bitterness there.

“That’s great,” he said. “I think I’m gonna just - well - introduce myself to everyone else.”

Dr. Curtis saved him further by grabbing his arm and insisting on the exact same thing. To Gwilym, it was like torture as he made his way from small group to small group, slowly approaching where you stood with two other students. You laughed and his heart skipped a beat. He hardly even heard the other students’ names or the parts they were playing. Finally, they made it to your group.

“This is Sloan, she’s playing Rose,” Dr. Curtis said. “That’s Andrew, and he’s playing John Truitt.”

Gwilym shook their hands. 

“Wonderful to meet you,” he said.

“And now, we’ve saved the best for last, the star of our show,” said Dr. Curtis with an excited clap. “Y/N Y/L/N, who is our Esther.”

You held out your hand with a dazzling smile, and Gwilym shook it. A shock went from your palm to his, something only the two of you could feel. The warmth of familiarity went through your veins.

“Nice to meet you,” you said nervously.

“You as well,” Gwilym returned.

“Y/N is a bit of a diamond in the rough,” Dr. Curtis said. “She’s normally so quiet, you wouldn’t expect her to be an actress. But you put her on a stage with lights and an audience and she shines like the star over Bethlehem!”

“Dr. Curtis!” you replied, a deep blush turning your cheeks pink.

“Well, it’s true,” he insisted. He looked at Gwilym. “Such talent. And at just twenty-two years old!”

Gwilym’s chest tightened. Twenty-two. That made him thirteen years older than you. He forced all thoughts of your beauty down, tucking them away forever. Besides, you were a student and he was your teacher, at least for this semester.

“She’s graduating in December,” Dr. Curtis went on. “We’ll be very sorry to lose her. But I’m sure we’ll see her soon enough on Broadway!”

Your eyes remained fixed on Gwilym’s face. His expression shifted when Dr. Curtis had mentioned your age, but you couldn’t put your finger on the emotion. You figured that was expected. You hardly knew how to phrase what you were feeling. 

“Who knows?” Gwilym said. “Maybe she’ll come to the West End.”

“If you steal this girl from New York City, we will never forgive you,” Dr. Curtis teased.

The two of them walked away together, Gwilym looking back at you just once more. You offered a soft smile before he turned away.

“Well,” said Sloan with a sigh. “I bet you’d let him kiss you before you were engaged.”

You elbowed her.

“Shut up!” you groaned. “He’s our teacher. That’s weird.”

“Not that weird,” Andrew pointed out. “There’s like, loads of porn out there about just that.”

“Ew!” you replied. “You just made it even weirder.”

He shrugged. “I’m just saying!”

“Well, don’t just say,” you said. “You guys are being ridiculous.”

You ignored the skeptical look they exchanged.

Finally, Sloan’s sister arrived with her daughters, Lily and June, who were playing Tootie and Agnes (the youngest Smith sisters) in the show, respectively. With them there, you could start from the beginning.

You were basically doing another read through. It was so early on, and this was Gwilym’s chance to see each of you read as your characters. Since Dr. Bennett’s husband was no longer able to play Mr. Neely the iceman, Gwilym filled in. A jolt of excitement went through you at seeing a real actor like him perform. Though you weren’t familiar with his work, he was still in exactly the career you wanted for yourself. You made mental notes of everything he did as he read. You quickly saw just how talented he really was.

As class drew to a close, Gwilym was giving everyone pointers. Edith thanked him excessively. You and Sloan met each other’s gaze and you both rolled your eyes. 

“Y/N,” Gwilym said as he came to you for his critique. “Excellent work today.”

You paused, waiting for him to give you something to improve on. When he didn’t you just lowered your head and thanked him, blushing again.

“Right, well, since we’ve only got five minutes left, let me just say, I’m very excited about this semester,” Gwilym said, looking around at all of the class. “I think this is going to be a wonderful show, and I feel incredibly…” his eyes found yours and he froze. “Lucky. I really look forward to seeing how the semester goes.”

The whole time, he had held your gaze. When he looked away, he dismissed the class. You quickly retrieved your things and hurried out of the auditorium. The feelings you got when he looked at you were terrifying, especially considering the positions you were in. You inwardly scolded yourself. There was no way a man like that would be interested in you. He was too handsome, too successful, and too...too much older than you.

“Hey, Y/N!” Andrew called as he and Sloan jogged to catch up with you outside. “Why are you sprinting out of here?”

“Sorry,” you muttered. “I just...I need to get to the library.”

“For what?” Sloan asked.

“For a secret rendezvous with Gwilym,” Andrew joked.

During class, Gwilym had asked that you not refer to him as “Professor” or “Mr. Lee.” He wanted everyone to use his first name. His justification for which was that you were all adults. This wasn’t a lecture hall, and he considered the show something collaborative between himself as the director and the class as cast and crew.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you snipped. “Edith was the one drooling over him.”

“Oh, God,” Sloan chuckled. “I hope we haven’t abandoned him to fend her off on his own.”

“Nah, Dr. Curtis is there,” Andrew replied. “He’ll swat her away if he has to.”

“Are you sure you’re okay, Y/N?” Sloan asked. “You look rattled.”

“It’s just…” you trailed off. You spotted the perfect excuse emerging from the theater as well. “Daniel.”

Daniel, who played your brother in the show, was your ex. You performed together in a showcase last semester, and had fallen for each other while rehearsing “We Kiss in a Shadow” from The King and I. But over the summer, when he went home and you stayed at school, he cheated on you. When you found out, you ended things immediately. He didn’t protest.

“Oh,” Sloan said with understanding. “It sucks that he’s in the capstone class with us.”

“Don’t worry about that cheating asshole,” Andrew added. “You’ve got one last semester here, and you should just enjoy it.”

You smiled. “You’re right, I should.”

“Now come on,” he said. “Let’s get to the dining hall, I’m starving.”

You started to follow your friends. Then, Gwilym and Dr. Curtis came out of the auditorium. Gwilym’s eyes - as if drawn by some magnetic force - found yours once more. He grinned and waved. You wiggled your fingers back shyly. Your heart rate quickened and you took a deep breath to try and steady it. You watched Gwilym go until he disappeared around the corner.

“Y/N?” said Andrew. “You coming?”

You shook your head to clear it. 

“Yep!” you assured him, and hurried over, following your friends.

You didn’t see Gwilym shoot you one last look over his shoulder.

After lunch, you did go to the library. You needed to pick up a couple books for a paper you were writing on Shakespeare in another class. You loved classics, so you’d jumped on the opportunity to take a class entirely on the famous playwright. Sloan and Andrew had other classes, so you were on your own as you perused the shelves, scanning the spines of the volumes until at last you found the one you were looking for.

“Good choice,” said a voice from behind you, making you squeak and jump with fright.

You whipped around to come face to face with Gwilym. It was actually more like face to chest. He was well over a head taller than you.

“Sorry,” he chuckled. “Didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“You didn’t,” you lied.

He raised an eyebrow at you.

“You just surprised me, that’s all,” you said. “Anyway, I’m glad you approve. I’m writing a paper and validation of sources is important.”

“That is important,” he agreed. 

“What are you doing in the library?” you asked.

“Browsing, really,” he said. “Since I’ve got so much time off, I’d like to read some more.”

“Time off?” you questioned. “You’re teaching a class.”

He shrugged. “I’m really acting as more of a director. Not that I’m complaining. But, I’ve always thought about teaching.”

You smiled. “I think you’ll be great. We’ll learn from you no matter what.”

He felt his cheeks warm. “Thank you.”

“You do have a sort of professor-y vibe,” you said. “I mean, your blazer has elbow patches on it.”

He laughed and you felt your heart race.

“It is sort of dorky isn’t it?” he joked.

You looked earnestly into his eyes.

“I didn’t say that.”

You looked at each other for another long moment. You felt certain that his eyes would be the death of you. That he would one day look a moment too long at you and your heart would explode out of your chest.

You cleared your throat.

“If you’re looking for something good to read,” you said, killing the moment. “Try that one.” You pointed to a book on the next shelf. “It’s about Shakespeare’s sonnets and how they reflect his view of women. Interesting stuff.”

He pulled it delicately down and looked it over. 

“I think I will,” he said.

“And when you’re done, you can tell me your thoughts,” you blurted out. “And we can talk about it…”

He smiled kindly down at you. “I’d like that very much.”

“Great!” you said, just a little too loudly. “Sorry. Um, that’s great. But I’ve got to get to my next class, so I’ll see you on Thursday?”

“Unless something drastic happens, you will,” he replied.

You grinned. “See you later...Gwilym.”

His name rolled from your tongue comfortably. With one last meaningful look, you disappeared from behind the shelf. He stood there, book in his hand, stricken by how much you already affected him.

“Y/N…” he said to himself. Then he smiled. He really was looking forward to this semester.

[saiilorstars]

The Girl in the Forest

Chapter 18: The Truth About Us

// Story Masterlist // 

Fandom: The Originals

Pairings: Klaus Mikaelson x Original Female Character

Pronunciation of OC’s name: Ma-leh-nee

Requested tag: @queenmj10​

~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~

Chapter Summary: Klaus finally gets to introduce Maleny to his daughter, and if he gets lucky he might even get to steal a little something from Maleny too.

Cami wearily watched Davina and Kol practicing a spell of some sort that would hopefully protect Amarrah from Esther's planned spell. The compound was practically left in her care, along with Marcel, but she was really in no mood to be feeling the happy leader.

"It's finished," Davina announced and put down the spelled doll they'd been working on, "but I'm afraid it's not enough to protect Amarrah's body from Esther's magic."

Kol smirked, "I might know a way to distract you from your troubled mind?"

Cami rolled her eyes, "Knock it off," she ordered them, "We're on the clock, remember? I don't think you'd like to join Finn in and coffin if you fail this spell."

Davina frowned, "Cami, calm down, I told Maleny I was gonna help Amarrah and that's what I plan to do."

"I'll let it slide," Kol calmly said before flashing Cami a smirk, "She's just mad she wasn't invited to wherever Klaus and Maleny left off to."

Cami crossed crossed her arms, glaring at the teen. Davina elbowed Kol in the ribs, "Don't be rude."

Cami silently looked away, trying to find as way to make it look like it hadn't affected her. She really hadn't understood why Klaus told her she wasn't going to the safe house. Klaus had even said it wasn't even his own request but Elijah's. With that sole comment, he'd managed to hurt Cami in a thousand ways. Why wouldn't Elijah want her to go?

"So, how's it going here?" Amarah joined the group, "Esther can jump anybody into my body right now and that does not make me happy in the least."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, but she's not going to jump anybody," Kol reminded her, "She's going to jump Rebekah, who just happens to be miles away."

"Somehow, that doesn't make me feel better," Amarrah crossed her arms, "Please, just keep working."

"Are you sure you don't want to call your family in France?" Davina asked before getting the spell back on track. Amarrah had mentioned earlier the idea of contacting her mother about the spell.

"I decided against it in the end," Amarrah sighed, "I don't want to worry her. She sent me here to protect Maleny, and the last thing she needs to know about is me getting involved into all this trouble to the point of losing my body. I think for now it's best to keep all this a secret."

"Good call," Davina smiled.

Amarrah then noticed the quiet demeanor Cami had put on and questioned her about it, "Are you okay? You've been extra quiet all day."

"It's nothing," Cami weakly attempted hiding her own feelings, "Just...it's bit lonely right now."

"Get used to it, love," Kol said bluntly, garnering confused looks back, "Fair warning, Cami: Klaus, Rebekah, Elijah... they were always a party of three. No room for anyone at the table, so don't think for a second Elijah will ever include you."

Overwhelmed with the sudden wounding words, Cami rushed off. Amarrah glared at Kol, "Seriously? Was there a need for that?"

Kol shrugged, "The quicker she learns the better for her. The only reason Maleny is included is because she was with us from the start - and because somehow my cold-hearted brother has managed to love precisely her."

Amarrah shook her head disapproving of him and went off to find Cami instead.

"Hey, I know your upset with your siblings but that doesn't mean you can be rude to Cami," Davina snapped at Kol, "Out of everyone she's the least culpable in all this."

Kol rolled his eyes, "I'm only telling her the truth. It's best she knows how things run before she ends up in a coffin - oh wait, she's not me, therfore she'll be actually dead."

Davina didn't even want to think about Cami dying, especially because of the Mikaelsons. But in a logical perspective, Kol's words did have some truth.

~ 0 ~

Rebekah was busy tending to some firewood in their safe house down in Arkansas. Elijah, meanwhile, sat on the porch of the house with the months old Hope in her baby seat.

"It's alright, Elijah. She won't break," Rebekah called to her brother, "Everything you did was in the name of protecting her. I'm not worried," she knew he was still trying to adjust to host newfound imprisonment after his incident in the diner.

As Elijah finally picked up baby Hope, he studied Rebekah's placement of wood, "Is that what I think it is?"

With a great big smile, Rebekah whirled around , and headed back, "It's bonfire season! And I am reviving a family tradition! Especially since we're all going to be together."

"Only because we're fleeing from one of our deranged parents. Another Mikaelson tradition. It's a peculiar thing- never to be tired, yet forever exhausted by the sameness of things. Why is our family always at war?"

Rebekah's smiled faded only slightly, " I don't know. But, being away with her made me see things differently," she touched Hope, "We're not so bad. We're not the monsters that our parents think we are."

At that moment, a black SUV pulled up into the driveway, but before it could actually park, Hayley practically jumped out of the car and dashed to go see Hope. A couple seconds later, after the car had actually stopped, Klaus and Maleny got out as well.

"See this is why I told you I should've driven," Maleny was in the middle of saying to Klaus as he hurried to go see Hope as well, "Then you could've jumped out like Hayley did."

"Shut up, Mal," Hayley said in almost sing-song voice as she held her baby daughter in her arms.

"Hey, watch your words around that one. You know what they say, babies repeat everything they hear."

"Maleny Rowan, is that possible?" Rebekah was both awed and stunned to see her old friend back with them, in the full flesh.

Maleny smiled brightly and hurried to greet the blonde Original with a tight hug, "You know me, the possible was never my thing!"

Rebekah laughed and pulled away to fully grasp the situation, "You know, when Cami told me she was gonna be looking for you - the actual you - I couldn't believe it. You're back! Look at you!"

"And hopefully here to stay," Maleny added quieter, preferring to leave bad talks for later. Her eyes drifted to Hayley and Klaus who were practically smothering Hope with hugs and kisses.

After everything was settled, a discussion about the newest of things began in the mean time more wood was brought for the bonfire.

"Curse on the first-born?" Rebekah repeated the confusing words, "What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Well, according to Finn, our sister Freya didn't die of plague," Klaus explained, "She was taken as payment by our aunt Dahlia, who then cursed all Mikaelson first-borns for eternity."

Hayley looked horrified as she heard more and more, "Is any of this true?"

"It is if we are to believe Finn, who learned it from the bastion of truth- our mother," Elijah reminded of their problematic brother

"Well, no wonder Finn hates us," Rebekah raised her eyebrows in amusement, "He lost the sister he adored, and instead got a judgy pack of siblings who found him unbearably dull."

"Great. So, is there any chance of us running into your loony aunt Dahlia any time soon?" Hayley dreaded the idea of the woman coming after Hope.

"The fable's over a thousand years old. Dahlia is long dead." Elijah dismissed the idea.

"Like Esther?"

"No one's going to hurt Hope, because no one's going to find her," Klaus declared and stood up from the front porch steps.

Around that time Maleny came in from the back of the house carrying more wood in her arms, "You know," she began when she dropped the wood into the pit, "I'm pretty sure leaving the only one who's technically still alive and without supernatural strength to bring in heavy wood is a bad idea," she turned to face the others, making a face, "There is something moving inside my shoe…"

Rebekah chuckled at her and walked over, "My bad…"

"Yeah, you're bad," Maleny scowled and shook her left foot, "Seriously though, there's enough wood to burn down the entire state of Arkansas. What are we gonna do?"

"A bonfire of course," and excitedly Rebekah looked at her siblings, "and were just missing a key ingredient!"

Immediately Klaus understood and shook his head, "No, we're not."

"Yes, we are, Nik! Back me up, Elijah!"

Elijah laughed, "I suspect Niklaus would rather choke on the ashes."

Hayley and Maleny exchanged confused glances before Hayley asked, "What are you all talking about?"

"Well, before we light it, we write down our wishes for each other to burn for luck!" Rebekah exclaimed, "It was Kol's favorite part when we were kids!"

"It's further evidence as to why we should ignore it!" Klaus snapped.

"I don't know, I haven't done that in centuries," Maleny remarked in thought.

"Exactly," Rebekah swung her arm around Maleny's shoulders, "Celebrating Mal's back, we're all together and with Hope. You really gonna turn that down, Nik?" she shot a smirk to her brother.

As Klaus sent her a glare, Maleny grew more excited, "You're not right?" she asked as well, "Plus, you still owe me for what you and we Davina did earlier. I'm still crossed, do not forget and - oh!" she jumped in her spot, "The thing's moving up my ankle! Ew!" she made way for the house but not before stopping at the open doorway and calling out, "We're doing it! Go!"

"I'm on board with it," Hayley smiled and went for the house as well.

Rebekah smiled smugly at Klaus and made way to him and Elijah, "Guess that settles that," she clapped her hands together. Klaus rolled his eyes and turned for the house, preferring to spend time with Hope, when Rebekah called again, "I'm glad to see Mal's truly back and how she's already influencing you for the better. And while we're here I'd like to apologize, sincerely," intrigued, Klaus turned back around, waiting for Rebekah to continue, "I really did think you had done something to Maleny back in the village and disappeared her. I was so completely wrong and for that I'm sorry."

Klaus nodded his understanding, "I can be what you may but I would never hurt her," he spoke honestly.

Rebekah looked at Elijah, both smiling, "Well then, what the hell are you waiting for?" the blonde asked, or demanded as Klaus judged.

"What?"

Amused by Rebekah's over excitement, Elijah explained better what his sister was trying to say, "I believe what Rebekah is trying to say is why you are...wasting time with Maleny? You're not one to wait, brother. Patience has never been one of your virtues."

Klaus made a face that expressed his agreement at the last remark, "And it never will be," he sighed, "It's a little complex-"

Rebekah snorted, "Not from where we stand."

"A lot has happened since then, Rebekah."

Rebekah put her hands on her hips, "So that's it, then? You're...giving up? That's never been an option for you - what the hell has happened to you?"

Elijah put a hand on Rebekah's shoulder, pleading her with a sharp look to be more serious about the issue, "I believe what our sister is trying to say is this has never been one of your acts before. What's the difference?"

Klaus glanced back to the house in case Maleny was returning. Seeing they were safe, he felt more at liberty to express his true thoughts and concerns, "Back then I didn't know it was Maleny inhabiting the bodies of most of the women I met before. While it hurt to lose them it was never something that truly stuck. But this time is different - it's so different," he stepped forwards, "She's afraid of...the idea of 'us'. I make one wrong move, say one wrong word and she can vanish from my reach. The first time I lost her was unbearable...I don't want to feel that again, especially when so much is at stake with us right now."

"I don't think it's a risk you'll be losing at," Rebekah smirked. It wasn't every day she saw Klaus looking like...any other man scared of loving freely. It was definitely novelty.

"I agree with Rebekah," Elijah nodded, "I suggest you simply have a calm talk with Maleny. Nothing will ever be resolved if you don't talk."

Klaus didn't like being advised nor lectured on details of his love life and so out came his mischievous side, "I sure will. And while we're on that topic, you may want to have a word with Cami. She wasn't very happy to hear of your request to leave her behind."

Rebekah's brow furrowed and immediately looked at her brother, "What?"

"Take your own advice, Elijah," Klaus smirked and started for the house, smirking as he heard the million questions Rebekah was now throwing at Elijah about Cami.

~ 0 ~

Cami was pouring herself a glass of bourbon when she heard a familiar voice call her name, "Cami, hey," Marcel strolled into the living room.

"Hey," Cami glumly said back.

"Don't tell me you're still upset," Marcel sighed and took a place at the couch.

"No," Cami shook her head, drowning down a good part of her drink.

"You shouldn't be," Marcel eyed her curiously, "Because first of all, Kol's an idiot, trust me. Half the things that come out of his mouth is pure nonsense."

"Is it?" Cami whispered, knowing perfectly well Marcel heard her.

"Look, things are complicated as it is, now with the Mikaelsons involved..." Marcel did a mock whistle and shook his head, "...not the world you want to be in, honestly."

"Well, even if we don't want to be in this world, we get caught up in them via others," Cami turned around, "And those others need our help right now."

Marcel knew she spoke of Amarrah and her terrible looming fate.

Cami sighed, she didn't want to turn this all about her when there were more pressing matters at hand. "I don't want anyone to worry about me. I'm not the one in danger of losing my body."

"No, that's me," Amarrah came into the room, "And I'm glad to report Davina and Kol are making progress on their spell."

"See, things are getting better," Cami mocked a salute before drowning down her bourbon. She shouldn't focus on herself, especially on the confusing, bad things. She should instead be looking on how to help her friends and just...be okay. She could do that right?

~ 0 ~

In the dining room, Klaus was sat at the table and holding Hope just as he had intended earlier. He wanted to take advantage of every second he had with her. Maleny came in holding a pencil and small notebook in her hands.

"Okay, you're doing this," she told the hybrid, or warned as it sounded more like it, "Hayley's finished, Elijah's got his and Rebekah was like the first one done. I'm not doing mine until you do yours."

"Mal, I'm holding a small child. This silly wish game will have to wait," Klaus said without looking up from Hope.

Maleny smiled at the baby, "I know she's cute, but you need to write."

"Do yours and then I will perhaps think of mine, then."

"I actually don't know what to write," confessed the blonde as she pulled a chair back to sit at.

"One would think you would wish for Esther to release your body," he gave her a sharp look.

"Well yeah, but that's the easy way. I want something else," she declared with a bright smile, "Like, a new jacket - you still owe me one by the way," she reminded him mockingly, "So I may wish for that."

"That's what you're gonna waste your wish on?" Klaus looked less than impressed.

"Well I don't know!" Maleny pushed the notebook to his side, "What's your wish?"

Klaus thought for a minute and figured this would probably be the last calm, happy moment they would have for a while when they returned to the Qaurter. Determinedly, he motioned for Maleny to take hold of Hope...only for the blonde to turn terrified.

"You don't want to hold her?" he frowned.

Maleny nervously looked at the calm baby in his arms, "I'm not...I'm not a baby person."

"I told you I wanted you to meet her, and meet her you shall," Klaus stood up from his chair and moved to her chair.

"I am meeting her...from right here," Maleny grabbed the arm rests of here chair, "Hi, Hope. See? We met."

"Mal," Klaus tilted his head absent her.

Maleny sighed, "I'm sorry. She's adorable, she's cheery, she's...so small," she said softly, "I don't want to hurt her."

"I think out of everyone you are the least probable to hurt her. Plus, I have to write my wish, remember?" he started lowering Hope to the blonde.

"Oh suddenly this is my fault," Maleny glumly said as she accepted the baby, "Should've seen that coming," Hope gurgled and reached for Maleny's hair on her shoulder. Maleny smiled and fixed her small dress, "You're incredibly cute, you know."

Unable to help himself, Klaus responded to her, "Thank you."

Maleny pointedly glanced at him as he took his seat again, "God help Hope if she inherits your cockiness - and your temper."

"See, you're not hurting her," Klaus gestured to the content Hope now sitting on her lap. She had become engulfed with Maleny's golden necklace draped over her chest.

Maleny looked down at the baby, "She has Hayley's cheeks," she remarked then looked back at him, "I don't think I've ever told you but I'm happy for you. Not everyone can have one of these," she kissed Hope's head and looked up with a small laugh, "Do you remember what you used to tell me back then when we talked about kids and stuff?" she was hoping her face wasn't showing the blush she knew was coming in, "How you said we'd name our daughter..."

"Marlenie," Klaus recalled with his own chuckle, having discarded the idea long ago when he was turned, "She would have been a miniature version of you..."

"I don't think you would have wanted that," Maleny shook her head.

Klaus had gotten lost in the memory Maleny had brought up and remarked in thought, "But I did," he said quietly, "I would have wanted nothing more than to have a family with you..."

Maleny's heart thumped and she was pretty sure he'd heard it. It too had been a dream of hers but just like her last bodies it died long ago.

Klaus set once more to write down his wish. Maleny returned to playing with Hope who'd taken interest in pulling on her chain necklace for the noise it would make.

"Hey, you break it your parents will buy me a new one and I'll make it a nightmare," she playfully warned the baby who gave a toothless grin in response. Maleny chuckled, "Or, we can get them to buy you one too. I get the feeling you're gonna be one very spoiled little girl in the future."

In a couple more seconds, Klaus finished with his wish and put his pencil down.

Maleny looked up slightly bemused, "That fast? Rebekah took a good ten minutes to figure hers out. I would figure after living for centuries you'd have a little more trouble deciding what you want."

"No, I'm pretty clear on what I want," Klaus assured with his signature smirk as he pushed the notebook in front of her to read. He tapped his sentence with a finger, motioning her to take a look.

Though confused, Maleny looked at the notebook and silently read his wish. Seconds later, her now-wide-eyes were back on him.

"I wonder if Hope will inherit your directive trait as well," she said quietly.

"Are you guys finished, Rebekah's going mad impatient," Hayley appeared by the threshold. Maleny quickly slid the notebook off the table in an attempt of hiding it's content. Hayley hadn't noticed and only came up to the table, "Wishes?"

Klaus stood up from his work chair, "We'll be there in a minute," he took Hope from Maleny and walked over to the give her to Hayley, "We're a bit busy."

Hayley really didn't care as long as she could hold Hope again, "Well I wouldn't take too long unless you want Rebekah to come in for you two herself."

"We won't," Klaus motioned her to get going and with a roll of her eyes Hayley walked out with Hope.

Maleny got out of her chair to pick the notebook off the floor. When she turned around she found Klaus already waiting for her right in front of her, "Woah!" she stumbled back, "Don't do that."

"So?" Klaus took the notebook from her, "Care to make the wish true?"

Maleny bit her lip nervously, "Are you doing this to get a kick out of it? Am I supposed to be amusing now?"

"I think my wish was simple and to the point," Klaus cleared his throat to read out loud his wish, "I wish Maleny would just tell me she loves me already."

Maleny blushed a deep red afterwards and was pretty sure he was hearing her rapid heartbeats, "You don't...you don't know that…" she weakly tried to argue.

"Oh, I know that. Your little slip ups, your jealous scenes, your incredibly fast heartbeats…"

"You were jealous too! Riley!" Maleny exclaimed, unable to come up with anything else. She'd been wanting to tell him for days now but she certainly hadn't been prepared to deal with being cornered.

"Who turned out to be exactly what I said he would be," Klaus smirked, "Your taste could use improvements."

"At least mine didn't try to kill a baby in the process," Maleny huffed, "Are we really going to talk about that right now?"

"No, they're the least of my worries right now. I just want to hear you say it, Maleny," Klaus' voice had changed to a softer one, "Just say it...please."

Maleny believed this to be her chance and probably the only one she would get in a long time, "The irony is I've been trying to tell you this for some time now..." she smiled sheepishly, "But something always came up and made me push it back. But you want to hear it? Fine. I love you. You know me, I'm brave until the moment hits. But I do, I love you," she took a step closer to him, "What do you have to say about that, then?"

Startling her, Klaus took her by the waist and pulled her closer, "What do you think I should say?" he challenged.

She raised a questioning eyebrow, "If it doesn't run along the lines of an 'I love you too' followed by a kiss there's a high chance of a fork being embedded in your chest. Choose wisely."

He lightly chuckled and moved one hand up to her cheek, "Far be it for me to upset you."

"Yeah, think about that," she playfully warned.

"I love you, Mal," he finally just leaned over to kiss her as she requested. It only took a couple seconds for him to pick her up and sit her on the edge of the table, his arm around her pulling her impossibly close to him. She looped her arms around his neck like he would escape from her at any moment. She'd forgotten what it was like kissing Klaus and she wanted to take advantage of every single second of it. Both silently berated themselves for wasting time as they relished in their kisses.

~ 0 ~

Elijah was trying to distract himself of his dark thoughts by compiling more wood for the chimney inside. But as much as he tried, the flashbacks kept coming back to him - and they were getting worse. It wasn't until Rebekah called his name from the doorway that he finally was able to tear himself away from the visions.

"Elijah," she frowned, handing him a hankerchief for his hands, "Here."

"Thank you," Elijah took the hankerchief, shakily trying to compose himself.

Rebekah stepped closer to him, concerned for his decreasing health, "What is it you see when you go away like that?"

"Things I've done. Images of who I was…" he paused, "...things I could do," he added in a mumble as he handed the handkerchief back to Rebekah, "It's a lovely gift from Mother. I can't turn it off. I suppose it's her way of demonstrating I'd be better off taking her deal."

Rebekah rolled her eyes, "To leave your body behind?"

"To start over," Elijah nodded, "To live a mortal life. Have a child of my own, if I choose."

"Cursed as your first-born, if we're to believe the story," Rebekah reminded with a deep sigh.

"Not if I am no longer Mikaelson blood," Elijah countered with, "You see, this is the beauty of Mother, Rebekah- sometimes even her darkest deeds possess a logic that is difficult to refute."

"It's a lovely fantasy, Elijah."

"Rebekah, you and I both know what Mother is capable of. Now, I do wonder if she would relent and leave us be…" Elijah paused again and spoke quieter in case anyone should over hear, "What if all that Mother needs is a victory?"

Rebekah considered the idea but deemed it ridiculous, how could they give that up? She shook her head, " Let her find it somewhere else! Besides, she wants all three of us."

"She has Kol, she has Finn," Elijah insisted, though he himself wasn't very sure of what he was saying, "Now, perhaps, in the end, a simple majority will do?"

Rebekah was still too doubtful of the idea. But in the end...perhaps it could save Hope's life as well as others.

~ 0 ~

"There's like no plan, is there?" Amarrah was staring at the two teens in the compound courtyard, doing her best not to look as frustrated as she really was. She'd came in and found the two looking at a stupid picture, one of the Originals including the original Kol which of course Davina swooned over. Amarrah was all for romantics and things but not when she was about to lose her body.

"We're working on it," Davina promised the woman, not that it did much for her relief, "We're just...kind of stumped."

"Stumped?" Amarrah raised an eyebrow, now looking over to Kol suspiciously, "Stumped or more like purposely waiting for Esther to find Rebekah?"

"He wouldn't do that," Davina interjected before Kol opened his mouth.

"Really?"

"I wouldn't," Kol assured her soon after, "I don't have a problem with you, love. I could really care less in fact."

"Gee, that makes me feel all the much better," Amarrah crossed her arms, "I'm trying not to be a bitch but the fact is the clock is ticking and I'm freaking out!"

"And we'll find a solution, we promise," Davina insisted, "I take care of my own, okay? I won't let Esther steal your body," and no matter how at odds she was with the Mikaelsons, she would always help her kin who'd done nothing bad.

~ 0 ~

Out in the safe house, the Mikaelsons' were standing around the bonfire that Klaus had just lit. Seconds later, Maleny stepped out of the house holding Hope now bundled up in a pink sweater.

"You're gonna want to run, Klaus," she warned as she came towards the group.

Before Klaus could question her, Rebekah came out holding a Polaroid camera in hand, "Hey!" she called excitedly, "Look what I found!"

"Oh, bloody hell," Klaus was almost terrified of the camera as Rebekah rushed towards them.

"Told you," Maleny smirked at him.

"You couldn't have stopped her?" he met her just as she reached the bonfire.

"I could have...but then she happened," she bobbed her head to Hope, "I thought she'd look adorable in the sweater. Sorry?"

"You're not sorry," he accused with a scoff, making her smile and nod.

"Not in the least," she chuckled and handed Hope to Hayley who excitedly took her daughter into her arms.

"I wonder if it'll work?" Rebekah distractedly studied her camera for any visible malfunctions.

"Not from where I can see," Maleny cheekily said while Klaus groaned in frustration that she was helping his sister.

"Come on, let's try it!" Rebekah turned to them, "Hey, Nik, do you think you can cram us all into a selfie?"

"Oh, Niklaus is a virtuoso at cramming his siblings into confined spaces," Elijah couldn't fail to remark.

"Ha," Maleny laughed while ignoring the mocking glares of Klaus on her.

"Well, I'm just glad I traveled hundreds of miles to visit my mentally ill brother, only to have him insult me to my face!" Klaus shook his head.

"Oh, come on," Maleny turned to him with a sweet smile on her face, "Can't we just take one picture?" she stepped closer to him, "Pleeeease?"

Behind the pair the others smirked as they waited for the inevitable agreement Klaus would give into eventually. They were no fools. Why it hadn't been directly announced it was pretty easy to tell they'd finally taken advice and just went the hell for it.

"Fine," Klaus huffed and gave in.

Maleny cheered and took the camera from Rebekah to hand it over to him, "Ooh, do you know, I think this is the first ever photo I'll have of myself…"

"What about my paintings?" Klaus looked at her half irritated. She wasn't going to ignore the ones he'd made for her? Hell, there was one she wasn't even aware of but perhaps it was time to reveal it to her.

"I said photo," Maleny reminded and motioned him to take the picture already, "Now hurry up! "

With a roll of his eyes, Klaus raised the camera for the picture. Everyone crowded in and smiled for the picture.

"See, that wasn't so bad," Maleny remarked and took the camera from him just as the picture slid out, slowly developing.

"Let me see!" Rebekah exclaimed and snatched the picture from her, "Aw, see?" she gawked at the picture, "I wish that it could always be like this."

"If wishes were horses…" Elijah said slowly.

" ...Beggars would ride," Klaus finished with a sigh, "You realize we'll have to burn it."

"And there goes my first selfie," Maleny glumly said and received a pat on the back from Hayley, "I know my wish," she said sadly, "I wish things could just be normal - or at least somewhat."

Glumly, Rebekah tossed the picture into the bonfire where it burned down to nothing. Suddenly, determined, Rebekah looked at the others, "I won't let it slip away. I know what to do to stop Esther. I'm going to take her deal. And, when I do, I'm taking her down with me."

"You're delirious," was the first thing said in response - that of Maleny's, "Tell her she's delirious," she nudged Klaus, "Someone do it!"

"Mal, it's a good plan, I assure you," Rebekah anxiously said and stepped forwards, "We just have to play our parts. It'll work. She will be distracted during the spell. She'll be vulnerable."

"No, if we kill her she body jumps," reminded Klaus.

"Then stop her from jumping!"

"Because we haven't thought of that already?" Maleny frowned, "This is kind of our number one problem."

"Well, ages ago, we didn't have a Harvest girl or a Mikaelson witch. Kol knows all of her tricks."

Elijah scoffed, "Now, you're both insane."

Rebekah shot him a look, "Hardly, Elijah. It was your idea! You're the one who said she needed a win, and if we get this right, then she'll have one."

"Good going," Maleny frowned at the Original in suit, "Rebekah, you realize if we get this wrong you're no longer in your own body. Take it from someone who's lived like that for centuries - it's no fun. You never know where or who you could end up."

"It wouldn't be the worst thing," Rebekah insisted and looked at Elijah, "You were ready to do it yourself."

Elijah then received the stunned looks from the group, "It was a foolish moment, and one that you sagely dissuaded me from."

"Hopefully, we'll get lucky and stop the spell before I jump."

"And, if we're not, you'll get what you always wanted," Klaus pointed out and received the nervous smile from his sister, "I mean, that's what you're saying, isn't it? You're willing to lose."

"I'm willing to risk losing, yes."

"Well, we need to find someone for her to jump into. Someone anonymous. Someone who could disappear with Hope."

"Rebekah," Maleny just wanted for her friend to see the reality of what could become her new life, "If you're human you'll…"

Rebekah rolled her eyes, waving her off, "When I'm old and wrinkly, you can dump me back into my old body. Nik already has a coffin he can store me in."

Elijah crossed his arms, "But to trust Kol?"

"It's not about trust, Elijah. It's about finding the proper leverage."

"She's right," Klaus could see the logical point Rebekah was trying to make, "Kol will do what's best for Kol- we just have to meet his price," he pulled out his phone and dialed for the compound.

~ 0 ~

"That's the plan?" Amarrah gawked after hearing what Cami and Marcel had to say, "You're...kidding me...right?" but the looks between Cami and Marcel told her otherwise, "You're not kidding me? What the hell kind of plan is this!?"

"One where you can hopefully keep your body," Cami tried to smile assuringly but Amarrah shook her head.

"Hopefully is not what I'm aiming for."

"Well it's either that or let Esther take the body," Marcel laid it out for her to see, "What's your pick?"

Amarrah groaned and crossed her arms, "Well, when you put it like that, how could I refuse?"

"And I'd be happy to help," Kol spoke up with a wide grin but Cami scoffed at that.

"You and Davina have been sneaking around this building, no doubt looking for something," she accused, "Care to explain?"

Kol raised his hands, "If you want me to find a new body for Rebekah, I want the Fauline diamond you stole from me back in 1914."

Confused, Cami looked at Marcel who was already laughing, "And what do you plan to do with it?"

"Does it matter?"

"Well, it would matter to Klaus."

"You see, I could fib here, but I want to be on the up about it. I need a weapon I can use to protect myself against Klaus, and the diamond helps me make it."

"You want us to give you a diamond that...can hurt us?"

Kol shook his head, "It's not to kill him! It's simply a matter of self-defense. Only to be used out of absolute necessity. It's a fair trade, Marcel. We get free of my whackadoodle mum, I acquire the means by which to defend myself against a volatile brother, should the need arise, and, uh, if all goes well, perhaps you'll let me near Davina without bodily harm. So, should I call him back, or should you?"

"Well, I can kiss my body goodbye," Amarrah sighed as she assumed Klaus would say 'no' almost immediately.

~ 0 ~

"Elijah?" Maleny meekly called to the man on the front porch.

The man was holding Hope in his arms while her parents were busy getting everything set for Rebekah's plan. He turned around to face the blonde woman, "What is it, Mal?"

"That's what I'd like to know, honestly," she sighed and came forwards, "What did Esther do to you that has you so...changed? And I'm not just talking about slaughtering people-"

Elijah sighed, "One incident and no one can let it go…"

Maleny smiled lightly at his attempt of a joke, "Well, I was also concerned with your distancing...of certain people."

Elijah knew where it was headed and frankly after having to explain to Rebekah nearly to the last detail he was in no mood to be repeating himself for Maleny, "I will be fine...soon," he said instead.

"I don't want you to be fine just because it's for the best - I want you to be okay for you," Maleny explained with a sad smile, "And I don't think you can do that if you're pushing away someone you clearly miss."

"Preposterous," the Original mumbled and toggled with Hope's small hand.

Maleny made a face, "Are we really going to do this? Cos I have to leave in ten minutes and I don't have enough time to whip you out a full list."

"Mal…"

"Don't Mal me," Maleny waved her index finger at him, "You can be all broody and whatnot but I suggest you take a moment to see who else you're hurting. This isn't just about me and you know it," she sighed and wore a small smile as she stepped closer to him, "She's my cousin, Elijah, and I love her," she leaned on her toes to kiss his cheek, "Just like I love you. I'd like both of you to be okay."

"When did you turn into the advice-giver?" Elijah questioned her sarcastically.

"The student becomes the teacher," Maleny smirked and laughed to herself, causing Hope to giggle along with her, "Plus, I'm in a good mood today," she played with Hope's hand, "Things have gotten better…"

"I can imagine," Elijah threw her his own smirk, causing her to blush.

"Shut up," she warningly pointed at him again, though it only made his smirk grow wider. Maleny rolled her eyes and continued to toggle with Hope until it was time to go.

Klaus and Rebekah were to return to the compound, with Maleny who reminded them of her promise to Amarrah to be there for her, while Hayley stayed back with Elijah and Hope in case anything should happen and Elijah wasn't up to his usual abilities. Once they were well on their way back towards the Quarter, Klaus decided to share with the two blonds of Kol's demands...which were not met with understanding.

"I take back what I said about you Rebekah - Klaus is the delirious one," Maleny was shooting the hybrid a glare, "How could you hand back that diamond?"

"I agree," Rebekah nodded, "You were mad to do that."

"Our little brother has been plotting against me for years, and he hasn't got a lick of it right. I'll take my chances," Klaus shrugged and drove calmly unlike the other two who were still shaken at the easy relinquished diamond.

"This family is full of crazies," Maleny accused and leaned back on her seat, causing Rebekah to look back from the passenger's seat, "I mean what I say," Maleny reinstated.

"You're one to talk," Rebekah scoffed, "Might I remind you how you're even alive today? You foolishly accepted a woman's promise to help and instead garnered a curse. And for what reason you ask?"

"I get the point," Maleny frowned, "And while we're on that topic, are you sure you want to go through with this plan? Body jumping is not as glamorous as you think."

Rebekah lightly smiled, "Yes, but, just in case something doesn't go right, I ask that you handle my body with care, please? I may miss the old model."

Klaus preferred to believe everything would go according to plan, "If everything goes south, I'll be there to pull you out. We just have to take Esther down before she body-jumps. I don't want all of this to have been for nothing."

"And in this plan, what happens to Finn exactly?" Maleny curiously asked after a minute of silence, "Cos, as bad as he's acting, I don't want to think of you plotting his death."

"We'll think of something," Klaus said, unable to help a small smirk make its way across his lips.

"Yeah, that's...not what I wanted to hear," Maleny slowly said, then looked to Rebekah, "Any ideas from you?"

"Afraid not," Rebekah smiled in amusement. Maleny shook her head, no matter how long she knew that family it would never become a norm for her to see them put each other down the way they usually did.

~ 0 ~

"Done!" Kol excitedly announced upon re-entering the compound where everyone was waiting, "As per your request. Miss Angelica Barker. Good cheekbones and a tummy you can bounce a quarter off! She will be Rebekah's new host body instead of Amarrah."

"Who's Angelica Barker?" Davina asked confused.

"One of my vampire potentials," Marcel replied, "Had to turn her down. She was too lost."

Feeling guilty, Amarrah had to ask, "Does she know what's about to happen to her?"

"It's better when they don't know, love," Kol shot her a sarcastic smile.

"Hopefully we won't have to come to that, then," Cami said to Amarrah for relieving guilt she could see a mile away.

"Hopefully," Kol agreed but then added, "But, then, my mother is a wily and vindictive woman... which is why I've got to ask something else of you."

"You're already getting the diamond," Marcel shot him down.

"Which I'm thrilled about. But, in order for me to help you, I need access to my mother's hourglass... which is in the Lycée. With my mother."

"So?"

"Well, I haven't been back in a while, and the only way she won't suspect me is if I bring back the thing that I was sent to find."

"And that thing is…?"

"...The white oak stake."

Cami's eyes widened in horror, "Are you out of your mind?"

"Look, it's the only way she's gonna trust me!" Kol tried to explain before someone ripped his heart out, "She doesn't want to kill them, she just wants to make sure that the weapon doesn't fall into the wrong hands."

"Has she met herself?" Amarrah shook her head.

"I swear, as soon as she's gone, I'll give it right back to Klaus."

"Like hell you will. Deal's off," Marcel announced just as Klaus entered the place with Rebekah and Maleny behind.

"Kol! Whatever grudges you hold against me, we're doing this for the good of our family. Do I have your word that, for once, you will honor that?"

Kol nodded, "You have my word, Nik. Swear on the face of us all."

"I'll get the stake," Klaus said and started for the stairs.

"You're all crazy," muttered Maleny, not even about to try to sway them from relinquishing the stake as she knew it would make no difference. Instead, she went over to her friend to comfort her while she passed through the awful, terrifying moment.

~ 0 ~

In the witches' Lycee, Esther was curiously listening to Kol explaining himself for his long absence.

"I wooed her, I won her. It took a while, but in the end, she handed it to me," Kol held out the white oak stake.

"When I didn't hear from you, I thought you might be in trouble," Esther took the stake and gave it a look-over.

"Nope, no trouble," Kol shook his head, "It's just hard to do espionage when you're calling mummy all the time," he curiously touched his mother's hourglass, "So, where's Finn? Is he off playing emperor to his merry pack of dogs?"

"I'm afraid Finn may have fallen into the hands of your brothers. But, I've made a plan to assist him with that dilemma while I continue my search for Rebekah."

"Oh, speak of the devil," Kol looked behind his mother as Rebekah walked into the room, "and the devil will come. Hello, sister."

"Kol, it really is you," Rebekah started her game as planned, "I would know that smirk anywhere," she walked towards Esther who was startled to see her there, "Hello, Mother. I believe you have a deal to offer me?"

~ 0 ~

Davina urgently spread salt, sand and herbs around an hourglass sitting on a table. She turned over the hourglass to let it begin dropping sand, "Kaleb will link this hourglass to Esther's. Ours will mirror hers."

"When the last sand falls, Esther will try to jump her into you," Marcel added.

"That's when I'll redirect the spell from you to Esther. It's meant to jam the signal just long enough to keep that kind of magic from working against anyone."

"If it works," Amarrah nervously smiled and looked at the others, "God, I'm a good witch and yet I'm still nervous about this. What does that make me?"

"Human," Maleny answered softly, "And it'll work. When Rebekah attacks, Esther won't be able to jump her into you, or herself anywhere else."

"And we're sure Kol is going to actually help?"

"He's on board," Marcel assured, "He's a thief and a liar, but, like Elijah, he doesn't give his word lightly."

"So we just wait now," Cami looked at the hourglass as did everyone else.

~ 0 ~

Rebekah scowled at the cups of tea Esther was preparing for themselves, "You can't possibly expect me to discuss giving up eternal life over tea," with a smirk she looked over to a shelf with wine bottles, "Give me some of that red over there," smiling, Esther went to retrieve the bottle, "Well, where's the sales pitch?"

"I only offer what you already want," Esther pointed out as she returned with the bottle and two glasses.

"And how do you presume to know that?"

"Elijah's happiest when there's order and music. Klaus, when he's the center of attention and in control. But, you are my only child capable of unfettered joy," Esther poured Rebekah some wine, "And, you're happiest amongst humans. I've seen you yearn for that life. For love."

"And when am I happiest, then, Mother?" Kol gave a loud, sarcastic call.

"When you're doing as you're told," Esther snapped and held up the tea tray for him to put away.

"Not to be a party pooper, but what about Maleny?" Rebekah questioned when her mother turned back to her, "I'm pretty sure she's just be happy if you handed her her body back."

"Maleny is her own blockage to freedom," Esther replied plainly, "I only want to help her finish what she started. I suspect Klaus' stubbornness has rubbed off her. Poor girl."

"Might want to explain that better to her, then," Rebekah tilted her head, "She seems to think you're threatening her by holding the curse over her head."

"Never," Esther fakely promised, "But enough about Maleny. This is all about you," she pointed, "Our wishes are aligned in this, my daughter. Mine, to free you from this curse, and yours, to be human."

Rebekah sucked in a breath as she thought it over, "I'd be giving up everything I've ever known for a memory of something I once was. Power for weakness. Strength for frailty. Eternal life for a brief human existence."

"The choice is simple," Esther smiled, "Another thousand years of never having what you want, or a handful of years when you do."

Nervously, Rebekah glanced to Kol who gave her a nod to go on, "Well, then," she smiled to Esther, "To the end of an era. I'm in."

"Let us begin!" Esther clapped happily and rushed to go turn the hourglass over. As soon as her back was turned to it, Kol secretly cast a spell as she and Rebekah drank from their wine glasses.

They moved out to the cemetery and went into an altar to begin the spell. The hourglass had also been brought along, trickling down the sand bits. It was now surrounded by salt and sand in a full circle. Esther finished the spell with fire sparking in four metal bowls around her. She laid the white oak stake at the end of the altar.

"What the bloody hell is that doing here?" Rebekah couldn't help feel nervous at the sight of the stake so close to her.

"As each of you comes to your senses and takes my offer, I will destroy your vampire bodies," Esther announced, leaving her two children stunned.

"Mother, you said you wanted the stake to protect them!" Kol frowned, feeling slightly betrayed.

"Yes, but not in their current bodies. Once they accept my offer, I will be righting two wrongs-"

Rebekah started backtracking, "No…"

"Having brought this evil into the world, then having subjected my own children to it."

"No!" Rebekah repeated, "That wasn't the deal! Stop the spell!"

"The spell is already done! I prepared it to be locked in the moment I turned over the hourglass," Esther said, much to their dismay.

Yes, the plan wasn't going as they had wished for.

"Mother, think this through. You gave birth to this body, you can't destroy it!" Rebekah insisted for her body.

"I am only destroying its flesh!" Esther tried to calm her down, "Your beautiful soul will live on in the body of another. I have chosen well for you, don't worry. She's a powerful witch, beautiful too."

Somehow, that did not make Rebekah feel any better about the whole thing.

"MOTHER!" Klaus shouted from the stop of a nearby crypt, having heard everything that was to happen, "Stop the spell!" he sped over to where Rebekah stood, "You and your traitorous son."

Kol quickly put his hands up in neutrality, "Nik, I didn't know anything about it, I swear."

While stunned about Kol's betrayal, Esther wasn't angry, "Oh, good. I'm glad you two boys are friends again. I did wonder what you'd been up to in your time away. Now, I know."

"Stop the blasted spell!" Klaus ordered her again.

"I'm afraid that's impossible."

Seeing no other choice, Klaus stepped forwards, "Anything is possible. Take me instead."

Horrified at the idea, Rebekah pulled him back, "Nik, no!"

"If only you'd taken my offer when it was still mine to give," Esther mockingly smiled, "Unfortunately, you've left me no choice but to make a... deal... with Mikael."

"Mikael?" Rebekah repeated, even more terrified.

"When Finn and Kol went missing, I needed a new ally. All he wanted was the right to kill you. Kol, I would ask you to deliver the stake to your father, but it seems your loyalties have been compromised."

"STOP THE SPELL, ESTHER!" Klaus shouted again, but it did no use.

"No, it's okay, Nik," Rebekah was looking at the hourglass seeing the sand was almost done, "I can do this."

"So," Esther raised an eyebrow at Klaus, "you're feeling murderous again. You should know, I've already chosen another body."

Kol had also focused in on the hourglass and upon seeing the last bit of sand falling through, he shouted, "NOW!"

Instantly, Klaus snatched the white oak stake from the alter and jabbed it into Esther's neck. The woman dropped to the ground dead.

~ 0 ~

"Now!" Marcel cued in Davina as the last bit of sand fell through their hourglass. Davina began to chant her spell just as Amarrah started seizing with the spell.

Maleny and Cami held Amarrah as she doubled over. She didn't create much noise before she fell unconscious. Suddenly, the hourglass exploded making everyone dive to the floor for protection.

"Davina, did it work!?" Maleny called from her spot as the young teen raised her head from the ground.

"I have no idea," she replied in fear as all eyes fell on Amarrah.

~ 0 ~

Later on, Rebekah's body had been brought back into the compound as Amarrah's had been put to rest as well. In the meantime they discovered if the spell had worked, Marcel went to go check in on Finn...only to see he'd escaped somehow.

"When she's up, we gotta get her out of the Quarter," Maleny came running into the courtyard where Amarrah's body was, "Marcel checked in on Finn and he's not there. She's not safe here. Someone busted Finn out!"

Klaus didn't look too surprised with the news, "My mother is using Mikael to do her dirty work now."

"We can't leave her here, Klaus," Maleny hurried up to him, "She can't stay here."

Suddenly, Amarrah gasped awake but no one knew if it was really her or Rebekah. Maleny ran to her side and bent down beside her friend, "...Ams?" she asked shakily.

"That...was...terrifying," Amarrah shivered, "I can't believe this is just normal day stuff for you all."

Maleny smiled brightly and encased her in a hug, "Oh shut up"

Davina started putting pieces together and turned to Klaus, "If Amarrah's here...and Rebekah's not waking up…"

"I couldn't stop the spell," Klaus sighed, hanging his head in defeat.

"She's been placed into Angelica's body then," Davina deduced, "So, in the end, it'll be fine. We'll just have to wait till she can get ahold of you."

"C'mon," Maleny was helping Amarrah stand, "We should get you to rest - you've had a long day."

It was left unofficially said that Amarrah would be staying for the night, but Klaus let it be without one word of protest. When they left, he took off to go visit his mother one last time.

~ 0 ~

It was late when Klaus returned to the compound, yet there were still some awake in the building. Maleny stepped out of Cami's room, wishing her a peaceful sleep, though doubted it would happen. Cami was still overly upset Elijah still hadn't even directed a word to her since he arrived at the safe house. Truthfully, Maleny didn't have enough comforting words for her cousin, but she still made her attempts.

"Goodnight Cami," Maleny said quietly as the blonde closed the door of her room. With a small sigh, Maleny walked away. She caught site of Klaus crossing the courtyard for one of the downstairs rooms and hurried to go see him.

She was a little surprised to find the rooms empty after a quick peek into them all. She was sure she saw him coming into the hallway, so where was he? Slowly coming back to the courtyard, she felt a light breeze behind her and turned around.

"I don't appreciate playing hide-and-seek at this hour," she mockingly scolded, "Haven't you heard you're not supposed to play it at night?" Klaus smiled silently and walked up to her. She became serious then, and her voice lowered to a quiet hush, "Is she...you know...?"

"Esther's trapped in a barrier and is in transition," Klaus smugly declared, "And I will be glad with whatever decision she takes because she'll end up losing."

"Well, at least something went right today..."

"Mm, I wouldn't say only 'something'," Klaus put an arm around her and pulled her forwards.

Maleny blushed as he ducked his head to meet her lips for a small kiss, "Alright, I stand corrected. But, there's one thing I have to ask...what are we going to do about my corpse still out there?"

Klaus could sense the true fear of her fate and moved one hand to her face, "I did ask, but of course she refused to say the whereabouts-"

"Of course," Maleny repeated bitterly, "Maybe I'm just destined to be cursed for eternity..."

"No, you won't be," Klaus sternly said, "You are not going anywhere, Maleny. We're going to find the corpse, one way or another, and then we'll burn it until there's nothing left. Then...you can learn to play piano as much as you want?"

Maleny lightly smiled, "You're so good I can almost believe that."

"It's the charms," Klaus smirked, making her laugh, "And I'll use them to the fullest extent on you if you keep this hopelessness up. I promise you Esther will not get away with this - not if I can help it."

"I know," Maleny's smile grew, "I'm just nervous, okay?"

"Don't be," Klaus raised her chin up slightly, "We'll figure it out…"

The tingly sensation from their closeness felt enthralling. With a small smile she leaned upwards for a kiss, "We better cos I don't want this to ever end," she playfully warned him afterwards then resumed their kissing.

[xxwritemeastoryxx]

I’ve Got a Plan

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Elijah Mikaelson x Reader, Damon Salvatore x Reader (frenemy)

Requested by: Anon-  Okay I don't know if you're taking requests but I've been listening to Billie Eilish's Bad Guy on repeat all day and I cant stop seeing a whole scenario. Reader is trying to get Elijah to see shes into him but he's either oblivious or unwilling so she goes and parties/dances (suggestively?) with Damon and then jealousy kicks in. The thirst is real and I love protective/jealous Elijah.

Word Count: 5.5K

Warnings:  Drinking (Alcohol and a bit of blood), jealousy, possessiveness, thoughts of killing a character, you know the usual XD 

Author’s Note: Y’all, this got away from me. I wasn’t expecting to write this much for this one, but it happened.  I blame all the ideas that clouded my head once I read the request. I do hope this is what you had in mind Nonnie. Enjoy. 

(Gif Credit goes to rightful owner!)

For a vampire that has been alive for almost 900 years, you knew that most of the emotions that you felt would just be a fleeting moment. Many of which you couldn’t care less about. Love was the only emotion that you tried to not feel. You knew the emotions and the memories that came with it could have long lasting affect if things ever went badly. Especially when life seemed infinite as a vampire. 

It was probably why you had found it easier to keep a hold onto the darker things in life. You thrived as a vampire compared to the helpless human you had been before your death. This new life had changed your perspective on so many things. You made it so that those that knew your name would tremble in fear. You took what you wanted and survived through the centuries doing just that. 

That was until you met a certain Original. For one that was used to causing chaos and destruction in your wake, he made you feel different. The feelings you had told yourself that you would never feel, they dug their way in and it scared you to no end. But you let them in hoping that it wasn’t just you feeling that way. 

No matter what feelings had taken hold within your heart, they no longer mattered in this moment to you. You wanted nothing more than to forget the emotions that went with the name. To forget the memories that went with the face. Just for a few hours anyway. It wasn’t exactly like you can completely forget about the man you had known for more than half your existence.

But you were right there on the edge, about to say to hell with everything. That was obvious with the with the number of refills you had with in the last hour of the glass of whiskey sitting in front of you. It was a chance to drown your sorrows before taking your leave. Because if you didn’t leave, you knew you’d be prone to causing a bit of bloodshed without any care. 

We can't.

Why are you fighting this?

You know why, Y/N. It never ends well and things are better left as they are.

The memory of the words that had been said hours ago played on an endless loop in your mind. If it was possible to hear a heart shatter, it happened in that moment when you stormed out of the Mansion and found yourself headed towards the Mystic Grill.

While you had hoped that it would be almost empty, that way you could ignore what little people were there and get lost in a bottle, it was the opposite. The place was packed with locals. But being the only bar in town, you stayed needing some form of alcohol in your system.

The music was loud and the bass could be felt from the moment you had entered the place. The areas that usually held the tables and chairs, along with the area that held the pool tables, had been converted into the dance floor. The booths left untouched to give space for those that wish to sit or eat. The Grill looked like a completely different place compared to what it looked like yesterday. 

Where you currently sat at the bar, is where you had been for the last few hours. You hadn't minded just sitting there. No one dared to bother you, especially when it only took a bit of compulsion to get them to easily leave you alone. 

You made the decision that tonight would be your last night in Mystic Falls. You felt as though you no longer had any real reason to stay. That your presence would just make things more complicated than it already had been. With the pain that was currently residing in your chest, you figured it would just be better to leave this place behind and move on to somewhere new.

"You look like someone just murdered your pet bunny in front of you." Damon's voice broke the thoughts that had been on a continuous loop in your head.  

Your Y/E/C eyes looked towards him. His signature smirk was plastered on his face as he took a seat next to you. Unlike the rest of the people in this town, you were somewhat friends with Damon. You had been for decades.

"No, but you are very close." You said with a shrug before bringing the glass up to your lips and taking a drink. The alcohol burned your throat as it went down and you welcomed it. Anything to distract you from the hurt.

"Let me guess," He said as he signaled the bartender to bring himself and you a drink. "You're all mopey because one of your diabolical plans to take over the town fell through."

You were by no means one of Mystic Falls’ favorite visiting vampires, that had been obvious. You had killed your fair share of locals during your stay in town the last few months. You’ve been threatened and shot at, but for how old you were, you weren’t easily taken down. Every time they attacked you, you retaliated in some way, causing them to take a step back. 

On a scale of Damon to Klaus in the not giving a damn scale of who you killed, you were right in between them. Okay, maybe closer to the Klaus end of the spectrum if you had to be honest. You could continue to go on as you had, but eventually there would be no one in the town left to do anything. Though once the Mikaelsons began to settle into the town, you were asked to reign in your usual antics by Elijah and Klaus. They didn't exactly want you to ruin the plans they had during their stay in this town.

"Ha!" You scoffed shaking your head. "Guess again." You wished it had been that some scheme of yours had fallen to pieces. Hell you wished it had been anything other than what the real reason was.

Before Damon could even joke around again, he watched as your shoulders slumped the moment the front doors opened. He watched as your eyes seemed to fill with tears before you looked away, hoping the tears wouldn’t escape. When his attention turned towards the door, he watched Elijah and Klaus walk in and make their way towards the opposite corner of the place.

"Ah, I get it now." He said before looking back over at you. "After all the flirting you had been doing the other night at the ball, things didn't go where you thought they would."

You suddenly found the bottom of your glass to be fascinating, not wanting to acknowledge that Damon could just as easily put things together. But then again, when hadn't he? He may have been more of a frenemy to you, but you both knew each other pretty well.

Where you had told him how he should move on from his obsession with Katherine, Damon had always given you advice as well. He just didn't know at the time that he was giving you advice about a certain Original vampire. At least it wasn't until the ball Esther had thrown that Damon had begun putting two and two together.

"He made it very clear that it would be a bad idea." You sighed softly. You hated even thinking about the conversation or how much it got to you. But the words had been said and there was nothing that could be done about them. "After all these years he's still more concerned about what happens to that brother of his than his own happiness.”

“His loss.” He shrugged his shoulders before picking up the glass in front of him and taking a drink. 

While he would usually find the information you were giving him to take down the enemy, this was you he was currently talking to. Damon had very few friends and while the two of you would easily be on opposite sides when it came to the people in this town, you were a friend more or less. He wasn’t going to tell his group of friends that the way to get Elijah to do something was currently sitting next to him. You were his friend first before the others were. 

“It's why I’m leaving town.” You brought your glass up to your lips to finish off the liquid before grabbing the fresh glass that had been placed in front of you. You down the liquid quickly before placing the glass back on the bar. 

“You’re really going to leave town over him?” There was a bit of hurt in his voice that you had picked up on. “Why not stay for a friend?”

A chuckle passed your lips. “Oh Damon, we both know I have a short fuse. My current emotions are playing with that fuse. One wrong move to piss me off and-”

“We’d have a blood bath on our hands because of that lit fuse.” Damon said with a slight nod. 

“Your friends wouldn’t like that very much.” You said with a shrug. “Then again this town could use a change.”

“Don’t even think about it.” A huff passed his lips as he looked over at you. "What made you reign in that lovely personality of yours that I enjoyed so much?"

"What made you reign in yours?" You asked as you gave him a knowing look. 

_____

"Fraternizing with the enemy." Klaus said as he took a seat in the booth. "I must say she's got some guts."

Elijah really didn’t see the point in coming to the Mystic Grill when Klaus had asked him to accompany him. It wasn’t like they enjoyed coming to the place like the rest of the locals did. The awful music that played through the place was enough to make him wish he had stayed back and let Klaus go alone. 

But Klaus had mentioned needing to keep an eye on a particular set of people. Elijah had summed it down to Klaus really only wanting to keep an eye on Caroline. Yet as he looked around, she and her friends were nowhere to be seen.

"They've been friends for decades Niklaus." Elijah said annoyed as he took his seat across from his brother. "Her loyalties have been established upon your decision to move in to the neighborhood."

Klaus laughed and shook his head as he looked towards his brother. "Are you sure those loyalties haven't changed after the lovers spat the two of you had a few hours ago?"

Elijah's stiffened in his spot before looking over towards his brother. While Elijah had believed that the conversation you two had was safe from prying ears, he didn't think his brother would have thought of trying to listen in on it. Yet Klaus was telling him he knew about it. 

"That was a private conversation." He noted almost glaring at Klaus. 

"Oh I wasn't listening in." Klaus said with a shrug. "It's just hard to ignore the fact Y/N looked rather upset leaving. In all the time we’ve known her, I’ve never seen her like that. Pissed off maybe." He shrugged as he looked over at you. “But never like this. I must say, it’s not a good look on her. ”

Elijah sighed as he shook his head. He hated the words that had left his mouth earlier. He wanted nothing more than to return the feelings that you were expressing to him, but he couldn't. He couldn't bring you into this life of his. He saw first hand what happened to the women that he loved. He refused to see the same thing happen to you. 

So he pushed you away. He saw the hurt in your eyes the moment he had said the words. He watched as the light of hope your eyes held had dimmed. He hurt you in a way that he had told himself he never would. 

His attention turned towards you and Damon. He could see the way your head was hanging as you looked at your drink, your finger lightly running along the rim of the glass. Even as you spoke to Damon there was a slight pout on your lips. He wanted nothing more than to get up from his seat and go over there to speak with you. To make sure that things between the two of you were okay. But he fought himself on leaving the very spot he sat in. 

Klaus had been right though. The way you currently looked wasn’t something he was used to seeing on you. Your personality reminded him of a lot of Klaus from time to time. You were ready to take on the world if it meant you got what you wanted. The confidence you usually displayed was nowhere to be seen as you sat at the bar with Damon.

_______

Damon shook his head slightly as he looked over towards where Klaus and Elijah currently were. While it was only for a moment, he couldn't tell what it was that they were doing there. But if the party that was going around them was any indication, they might have been there to enjoy it as well.

It was when Damon’s attention turned back to you that an idea came to his mind. He just had to get you to agree to it without giving you details. "What if I told you there was a way to get him to change his mind about the whole thing?”

You rolled your eyes. "What are you going to do? Go over there and convince him to be with me, I highly doubt that would work."

A smirk grew on Damon's face as he stood from his seat. He held out his hand towards you. Your eyebrow rose as you looked at him do so. With the slight tilt of his head gesturing the dance floor you began shaking your head at him.

"No, not happening." You protested before reaching for your glass, disappointed to find it empty, again.

"Just trust me on this." The smirk had disappeared on his face, leaving a small smile. "I've got a plan."

You eyed him for a moment before finally nodding. While you had no idea what this plan of his was, there was a part of you that was all for it. It wasn't like anything could get any worse than they already were. 

The moment you placed your hand in his, Damon pulled you up from your seat and lead you to the dance floor. As he did, you swore you could feel eyes on you the whole time. But you didn't want to look around to find the source. Not that you had to, you just knew that it was Elijah.

As you reached an open spot, Damon had began to dance to the music that had been playing through the speakers. You had stood there to yourself, not really sure if you were in the mood to dance.

"Come on, Y/N!" He said as he grabbed your other hand trying to get you to dance with him.

A laugh passed your lips as you shook your head. Giving in you began dancing with him. It didn't take long for you to enjoy yourself a bit. Your hips moved with the beat of the music. Damon spun you around for a second before bringing you back to him, your back against his front as the music changed.

With the song change the lights changed with it. What was once a slightly dimmed place, grew to almost darkness. The bar lights and strobe lights giving off some resemblance of light throughout the place. The place signalling that it was now free of anyone under the age of eighteen, causing to the party goers to erupt in cheers for a moment.

____

"You're staring." Klaus's voice carried to Elijah, who had been getting a kick out of watching his brother fight himself over wanting to go over to where you were.

Elijah would have argued that he wasn't staring, that he had simply been observing. Knowing his brother, he would have said it was pretty much the same thing. From the moment he had watched you take Damon's hand, he hadn't stopped watching. It was one thing for you to talk to his least favorite person at the moment, it was another for you to go and dance with him. The sight alone made his blood begin to boil.

"She is free to do as she wishes." Elijah said never taking his eyes off you. Though he meant the words, they really didn’t sound convincing to either of them. 

"You know you could always go over there and get her attention." Klaus said with a smug look on his face. He may have not understood why the two of you had been fighting, but he knew Elijah cared for you. He had been close friends with you to see you cared for his brother as well. "Although she does seem pretty content right where she is at."

Klaus's words had caused Elijah's jaw to tick as his eyes never left the both of you. He had watched as a laugh passed your lips every now and then at something Damon said, the way you danced against Damon, as his hands moved up along your sides.

Elijah had never believed himself to be the jealous type. But there in that moment, as he sat there watching, he wanted nothing more than to rip Damon’s heart out just for touching you as he was. His eyes narrowed as he watched Damon whisper something in your ear before a smirk pulled at your lips and you nodded your head. 

That smirk that played on your lips was one that he was all to familiar with. While he couldn’t see your eyes in that moment, he knew they held a devilish gleam that always came with that smirk. Anytime that smirk came into play, it wasn’t long after that you would find yourself at the head of some chaos being caused. 

_____

Damon's plan had finally made sense to you. While you never voiced your realization, Damon saw when you put it all together. The grin that played on his lips was enough to make you laugh. But it made sense as to why he didn't tell you right off the back. You either would still be drinking the bar away, or someone might of overheard the conversation and the whole thing would have fallen apart.

The whole time you had been with in Elijah's eyesight. And while you would have normally threatened Damon for some his hand placements, or the occasional feel of his lips on your neck, you knew it was actually harmless. You and Damon had never crossed the line with each other and you doubt you ever would. 

For the last few minutes Damon had been trying to convince you to share a drink with him. Not of the alcohol variety of drinks that currently sat behind the bar just a few feet away from you, but the drink that could easily be obtained by the surrounding bodies that were dancing close. 

At first you had protested the idea. You had made a promise that you wouldn’t do anything to the locals. How Damon had even suggested it had made you curious at how he was suggesting knowing he would hear it from the others as well. But it was what Damon had just whispered into your ear that had your smirking and agreeing to the very idea. 

“You’re the bad guy, remember. Plus if he is going to continue to just watch and not do anything, it’s not going to hurt to have a little fun on your last night in town.” His lips had been right there by your ear as he spoke, his hands sliding lower on your waist. “Plus, when is the next time we’ll get a chance to party together?”

The words were dangerous. You knew that the moment you heard them. But the way the words appealed to your darker side, it had you agreeing in an instant. For weeks you had held back. Tonight there was nothing stopping you from doing what you want if you were on your way out.

Damon had left your side for only a moment. He came back with a woman he had 'invited' to dance with the both of you. At first you had only danced with her, making her feel comfortable with dancing with someone she hardly knew. You and the stranger had danced the duration of the current song before Damon had pulled the both of you towards him.

A laugh passed both of your lips as he did. The woman had been trapped between the both of you. You watched as Damon had placed his hands on her face, compelling her. Her head tilted to the side slightly and you watched as Damon had bit into her.

Brushing her hair away from the other side of her neck, you felt your mouth water at the thought of the blood that lay just under the surface. Even the scent of blood that came from the wound Damon had created was enough to say to hell with everything. You could easily feel the veins move along the skin under your eyes.

You weren't sure if it was the continuous feeling of being watched or that you knew if you looked up from the crowd that surrounded you that you'd see Elijah in your line of sight, but that is exactly what you did. You could see the way his eyes narrowed as he watched you. From there you could see the way his fist was clenched and see the tick of his jaw while Klaus sat across from him with a smug look on his face as he turned to look towards his brother.

It was the first time you actually looked at Elijah longer than a second since he walked in the door. While earlier you hated the thought of him seeing you while you drowned in your self pity, now it was different. The darker side of you wanted to see the look on his face as you fed from the human in front of you. The darker part of you was practically screaming that his words wouldn’t have a hold on you if you didn’t care. That this was who you were and Elijah knew that.  A smirk pulled at your lips, showing the tips of your fangs as you gave him a wink before leaning your head towards the woman's neck.  

Your fangs barely reached her neck before you felt someone grab a hold of you and pinned you against the far back wall. You were away from the crowd of people and if anyone happened to look this way, it would look like you two were simply talking. Your smirk returned to your face as you looked up at Elijah. Damon’s plan worked. You thought as you looked up at him.

"Something the matter Elijah?" You asked knowing very well what was wrong. 

"What do you think you are doing?" There was a mix of concern and anger mixed in his voice. He couldn’t believe that you would go and feed in a public place such as this. Especially when the town already had multiple reasons to kill you. One wrong move and that would be it. 

"Enjoying myself." You shrugged your shoulders. It wasn't like you actually did anything. If he had waited any longer you would have. “Is that not what one does when coming to a party?”

"Are you not in the least bit worried that this could have been a ploy to get you killed?"

A laugh passed your lips. "Like little Elena Gilbert would put a local through what was about to happen just to kill me. I would have expected something if it had been someone they knew." A thought crossed your mind. "If you had actually paying attention while you were watching, Damon had compelled her and then drank from her first ensuring her blood was clean of any vervain."

The mere mention of Damon had Elijah narrowing his eyes at you again. You weren't stupid. You knew what buttons to press when the moment called for it. You also weren't oblivious. You knew from the moment you looked over at him before attempting to bite into the woman that Elijah had been jealous. 

You've known Elijah for centuries. You probably knew him a whole lot better than his siblings did. The face he currently wore as he had you pressed against the wall had been jealousy. While Elijah didn't get jealous often, you knew what it looked like on him. And boy did you enjoy seeing it in the moment. 

“That doesn’t mean he does not have some plan in place.” He needed to hear something. Anything that would confirm that Damon was against you. Anything that would give him the green light to rip Damon’s heart out without a second thought. 

“No ulterior motive this time. Just to have some fun and live a little.” You shrugged slightly. “While I would have just been fine with drinking through the bar’s supply, Damon just happened to be there to encourage the fun.” You swore you heard a growl coming from him. It had been mixed in with the music that had been playing, but it wasn’t hard to miss with your hearing. “What’s wrong Elijah?” The smile on your face never leaving your face. “Hate that I’m enjoying myself Damon?”

“I’d prefer if you spent your time with someone else.” He said as he watched you. The smile on your face as you taunted him with the fact that you had just been spending time with Damon was driving him crazy. It was fueling the jealousy he had already been feeling. You weren’t exactly helping the situation. It was clear to him you knew exactly what you were doing. 

“And who exactly should I be spending my time with?” Part of you said you should keep your mouth shut after the question passed your lips. But the other part of you was still upset about earlier that didn’t care if anything you say is hurtful. “The person I wanted to spend my time with tonight told me he thought it was a bad idea for us to be together. So why stick around for that?”

While it only lasted for a second, you had seen hurt flash in Elijah’s eyes. “He clearly wasn’t thinking you’d run into the arms of Damon Salvatore after telling you that.” This time a growl left your lips at his words. 

“I didn’t run into his arms.” You said placing a hand on his chest to push him away, but he didn’t budge. “If you want to see running into someone’s arms, I can damn well show you what that looks like, Elijah.” 

While you really had no idea who’s arms you’d actually run into as he had suggested, you wanted to get away from Elijah for a moment. To get a chance to clear your head. Because if you didn’t show him exactly what he accused you of doing, the alternative in your mind was ripping out a few hearts and sinking your fangs into a few necks as you left the place. 

To say your fuse was lit was an understatement. It was lit and quickly eating away at what little reserve you had left. Elijah could see that in your eyes and hear it in your voice. Letting you step away from him now would be a bigger mess. Not that he wanted you to leave his sight any time soon. 

Before you can even attempt to push him away again, his lips descended on yours. It actually shocked you at first, considering you were about to act on your words, or your thoughts for that matter,  in some form or another. After the shock had worn off you began to kiss him back.  

There was nothing gentle about the kiss between you two. The emotions you two had been feeling had been put into the kiss. Elijah’s jealousy was evident as he fought to be the one to control the kiss. While you were angry towards him and upset, you weren’t about to let him get the upper hand, even if the both of you were enjoying it. 

It wasn’t until an unsettling thought crossed your mind that you pulled away from his lips.  You looked up at him, wanting to make sure he was paying attention to the words that were about to come out of your mouth. "I swear if you end up saying that this was some kind of mistake later-"

You didn't get a chance to finish your sentence before Elijah’s lips were back on yours. You weren’t sure if he was only kissing you to stop the thoughts that filled your mind or that he just didn’t want to think about what would happen later. Though for now, it was enough to silence the thoughts of what the future might hold. 

As your hands ran up his chest before one of them came to rest at the back of his neck, his hands had began to move down your sides. As his hands came to rest at the back of your thighs, he lifted you up slightly, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist. The moment he had you where he wanted, his lips left yours. 

“Mine.” He said into your ear before his lips began to travel down your neck.

A shiver went through your body at the words, causing a small smirk to form on your lips. It was only hours ago that you had begun to believe that you’d never hear those words come from him about you. It almost made you laugh that it had taken him being jealous to act on his feelings. 

The sound of a throat clearing had been enough to pull the both of you out of your own little world. It was a reminder that you definitely weren’t alone. From your spot, you could easily see who had been interrupting you. You rolled your eyes before looking back at Elijah to see him look rather irritated at the interruption as well. 

"If you are about to start removing each other's clothes, now would be the time to tell you that there are vampires here that can easily hear what's going on even if the humans can't." Klaus said as he leaned against a pillar. 

"And while you two may not care about who may be able to see, I sure as hell don’t want to see it.” Damon said as he stood by Klaus. 

A laugh passed your lips the same time a growl left Elijah's lips. While you had gotten a good laugh at it, Elijah obviously didn't like that Damon was close by. Not with his jealousy still in play. 

One quick look at Damon and Elijah slowly released his hold on your legs and allowed you to plant your feet back on the ground. His hand reached for yours, immediately intertwining his finger with yours. 

“We’ll be leaving right now.” Elijah said as he stepped away from you before gently pulling you away from the wall. 

A smirk pulled at your lips. “Your place or mine?” That had caused Elijah to give you a smirk in return.

Damon groaned at the question seeing as you were currently staying in one of the extra rooms in the Salvatore home. While you had been spending a lot of time at the new Mansion the Mikaelsons had moved into, you hadn’t actually made the move into it. 

“I’d rather not go home and hear whatever you two are in the middle of.” Damon noted with a roll of his eyes. 

“Your place it is.” You said before Elijah could really react to Damon’s words. Elijah’s hold on your hand tightened for a moment before he began leading you past Damon and Klaus. 

Damon raised his hands up the moment he watched Elijah glare and bare his teeth at him. You held back a laugh, not wanting to start anything between the two in that moment. There was definitely no way that Damon was going to get involved now. He had only done what he did to help you and that was as far as it’d ever go. 

Klaus laughed and shook his head at the display. He had never seen Elijah become so possessive over someone before. It had been entertaining to say the least and it was something he definitely wasn’t going to let Elijah forget. Plus it would definitely come in handy later when he knew you’d be on his side and Elijah needed a bit of persuading. 

You look over your shoulder as Elijah pulled you through the crowd of people. You could see the smirk on Damon’s face as he shook his head at you. Your own smirk pulled at your lips as you gave him a wink before Elijah pulled you out the door. It caused Klaus and Damon to shake their heads at the action. 

I’ve Got A Plan: @mschellehitt @kpopgirlbtssvt @xanderling (If you would like to be moved to a permanent taglist let me know.)

Always & Forever Tag: @rissyrapp20 @taylordrunkonwhiskey @thewolf-and-thesheep @wayward-dan @neeadinghugs @fafulous @cassienoble2000 @kenmen02 @elizamonet @dora-the-grownup @itswingedprincess

Stag Tag:  @elejah-wonderland @cheers-my-dears-16 @xxsoveriegnsarayaxx

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As usual, bold tags mean that for one reason or another, I cannot tag you in this. If you would like to be added to, or taken off, the taglist please let me know. 

[justfangstvdto]

Open Coffin 2 | Chapter 02 “Lovely Day For A Riot”

Disclaimer: This is a sequel! Find Part 1 here. For some context, I´d advise you to watch The Originals to understand some occurrences.

Chapter warnings: typical TO violence (and the reader is enjoying it a little too much in this one tbh), blood, murder, and some more subtle foreshadowing

Word count: 4779

Tags & Author Note at the bottom. Feedback is my lifeblood and keeps the writing coming.

Open Coffin 2 Masterlist

Your name: submit What is this?

The written word was everlasting. King to Beggar, Poets to Wallflowers, Monsters to Saints - they all had the opportunity to be immortalized, to be remembered once they´ve turned to bone or ash.

That, you always thought, was why your brother Stefan resorted to writing in his diary and why you chose to write letters to Kol when you were last here in 1914. To leave something behind in case your almost immortal life ended sooner than you thought. Now those letters served as a reminder of what might never be again. Yet, with uncertainty came the need to check on them in their hiding spot. 

So that's what you did. 

And it was as if you ́d stepped back in time. The cemetery was untouched in almost every way. Only the weathered stones and visible marked lines of the flooding after Katrina were reminders of how much time had actually passed. 

Another change that was eerily unnoticeable once you reached the older part of the cemetery, was the relocation of gravesites the City council had ordered. You thought it macabre to relocate someone's resting place as if they were nothing but a waste of space. 

What was once the Voodoo Queen ́s Laveau’s tomb was now only a monument in her honour. But what the tourist who resorted to smearing words with permanent marker on that very stone didn't know was the hidden compartment in the back. It was sealed with numerous spells, followed by a specific order of bricks you had to push in. 

Panic filled your senses when you saw the bricks already pushed in and the secret compartment opened wide. There was a dirt film on the stone surface and nothing but empty space in the compartment beneath all the dust. 

You reached in, hoping they just shifted back, but all you grasped was a layer of leaves that found their way inside.

The letters were gone. 

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

You could not wrap your head around who could have had access to your letters, and who would even care to steal them from you. They were not just letters, they were confessions of loneliness, frustrations, confessions of love. Whoever had them now, they knew your deepest emotions, some buried six feet under others worn on your sleeve - but all secret. 

Even now staring at the grimoire in front of you, surrounded by Kol's hideout, you couldn't think of anyone who knew about them. The only one you told was Kol back in Mystic Falls when you thought you were dying. But there was no time to dwell or be embarrassed by your secrets laid bare. 

You had work to do, and you had to focus. Unfortunately, focus was hard to come by when you had someone breathing down your neck. 

“How frustrating. A novice trying to interpret the work of a master.” Mikael paraded around, sighing dramatically. 

“Can you shut for one second?” You glared at him “I´m busy here.” 

You had summoned him back in New York with the promise of delivering Klaus on a silver platter. He was another part of your plan, one that was - by a longshot - the most dangerous. But you had to have an insurance and Mikael was the only one who knew Esther better than anyone else. If Esther would trick you into a wrong spelling, Mikael would be able to tell. 

“It's a simple de-linking spell,” You explained further “It's not that hard.”

"Simple? You're trying to erase the link between Klaus and every single vampire he's sired.

"No. All I care about is Marcel and my brothers. You kill Klaus? They die, too. I can fix that. I have Esther's grimoire, it's just a matter of time." 

“Perhaps I can help you solve the riddle.” He offered.

You flipped the book closed and looked at him “Do you think I´m stupid? You ́ll just trick me into a spell that will free you from my control.”

“You know, for somebody who despises Klaus so much, you certainly share his paranoia.”

You didn't like the comparison, but he was right. And it pissed you off. 

“And for somebody who wasted years hunting him, you don't know him at all. He won't just come here if I ask him to. I have to gain his trust, offer my help until he takes the bait. And that takes time.” 

He seemed satisfied with the answer. "The sooner you perform the spell, the sooner I'll be free to kill the bastard." 

"I'll bring Klaus to you when the time is right. It's not right yet. I have to save a few people first."

"I assume my son included. Let me ask you this, why have you resurrected me instead of him?"

"I tried, but I couldn't find him on the other side before it collapsed. By the time I had enough power and knowledge, it was too late.”  

Thinking back to the countless hours spent searching, consulting with witches on the other side and reading page after page of all grimoires - it hurt producing failure upon failure. 

Mikael went quiet when you pulled out your phone, sending a text to Klaus number. 

Y/N: Still stalling Esther. Let me know if you need help kicking some ass. 

Klaus: Meet me at the Compound in 30 minutes.  

"I'll be back soon.” You informed him” Don't go anywhere. Oh wait, you can't." 

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

“Okay so let me get this straight;" You said, looking between Elijah and Klaus. "A resurrected witch you knocked around with put some sort of spell on you that sucked up all your hybrid slash original power to juice up moonlight rings? And those moonlight rings were given to the Guirrerra wolf pack?"

"That about sums it up, I'd say." Klaus shrugged, leaning back on his office chair. 

"You and your bad taste in women, I swear." You shook your head.

"Well,” Elijah that leaned against the fireplace´s mantel said, “Niklaus is renowned for choosing strange bedfellows." He grinned and dragged a finger along the mantel´s surface, flipping the dust of his fingers in disgust. He probably had to arrange additional meetings with the maid.

"Yeah, you can say that again." You snorted. You could not count on one hand how many times a fling of his screwed him over. And not in the good way. 

Klaus rolled his eyes, "Can we please return to the task at hand?"

"Right" You sighed, hating to get back on track so soon "Moonlight rings. How many do you think are left?”

"We successfully retrieved all but a small group which deserted the fight," Elijah informed.

"So we ́re fighting cowards.” You concluded. ” Easy. Do you know where they're hiding?" 

Elijah walked up to the map placed on the table, resting his finger on "They remain in public, hoping we won't retaliate out in the open."

"Which we don't give a shit about right?"Elijah glanced at Klaus who returned a look of hesitation."Oh, come on, really? I expect Elijah to go according to the rulebook, but you too? "

"There are certain rules we must abide by in this city." Klaus returned. 

You could not believe what you heard. Klaus following rules was something entirely new "You ́ve lost a few steps over the years. But works for me either way. ́ll just do it myself."

"You alone against a pack of wolves?" Klaus dismissed as if he'd forgotten that you were able to handle a much greater threat than a few moon howlers. 

“A few wolves are nothing. You forget I have some new tricks up my sleeve. And I really really need to kill something.” You were ready to leave, ready to deal with those wolves out in the open. 

But Elijah had other plans.

“Before you go, a word please." Elijah looked at his little brother, asking him without words to leave the room. Klaus seemed surprised, perhaps even insulted that Elijah wanted him to go. 

"He can stay." You reassured him, much to their surprise, "Whatever you have to say to me he can hear. We ́re a team, right?" 

Elijah hesitated for a moment, but eventually gave in."Given your past grievances, I cannot help but question your Intentions regarding your alliance with us."

And there it was. The usual patronizing tone that made it obvious that he thought himself still superior and you lesser than. You could move mountains and he'd still question your intentions. In this case, it was not far fetched to assume the worst, but you thought at least he ́d give you some leeway. 

"If you think I want to kill him again, don't ́t worry.Been there, done that, got the shitty fridge magnet."

“Judging by the company you keep, I cannot help but doubt the truth of your words.”

“Not really my problem is it? I can only say what I want to say, I have no control how you perceive it.” You shrugged “And my company was once a part of your family, but we all know that writing them off is one of your specialities.” 

Klaus laughed out loud, amused by the way you dared to talk to his older brother.  

“It is your problem if you wish to stay in my good graces” Elijah replied, unfaced by your comment. 

“No offence, but I don't give two shakes of a rats ass if I ́m in your or anyone ́s good graces. I ́m here to take Esther down and bring Kol back, that's it. I don't expect you to like or agree with it.” 

Elijah raised his eyebrows and cringed at your nonchalance. He wasn´t used to someone speaking to him in that way. He clenched his jaw and reacher for the button on his suit jacket and forced it through the Buttonhole. He would always do that before he got into a fight, a physical or verbal one.

Klaus ́ amused smile fell and he chimed in before the situation escalated “Brother I think that's enough.” 

“I agree." You glared at Elijah before looking at Klaus, directing your next words to him “If you want to join me now's the time.”

"I'll meet you there," Klaus replied and you left the room, ready to fulfil the plan. 

“She seems well,” Klaus said once you were out of earshot. 

“On the contrary, brother. Heed my warning, she does not have our best interest at heart."

“You must not remind me of the danger she now bleeds out into the world. Which is precisely why I intend to give her my trust. For now.” Klaus stepped forward, ready to follow you but Eliah held him back once more.

“She cannot know our secret.”He shakes his head, demanding eye contact “Not while mother and Finn still breath air.”

"She won't. I'll see to that personally.” Klaus reassured before he too disappeared out of the room. 

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

You parted the crowds unintentionally heading to where the pack frequented. 

Looking at the people that passed you by, you wondered what stories they desperately needed to hide, and how they would react when those secrets were now known by someone hidden in shadows. You felt uneasy, knowing that there was someone out there who knew what was only intended to be read by the only person you trust. Now they were out there, ready to be used against you. 

Entering Rossiuss, you kept your eyes sharp, searching the crowd for the wolves. But besides a few afternoon drunkards, college kids and a group in the back there was no sign of your target yet. 

You settled for your booth in the back with a drink in your hand. As you passed by tables and people recognized you, they retreated to the front. Some chose the bar, others on the other side of the room, only in an attempt to be as far away from you as possible.  

Soon, the whispering began, as it always did.. Ah the whispers..how you wanted to silence them all. 

You sat there for a good hour pretending to read the book you bought, checking the time every few pages. There was absolutely no sign of the pack, nor of Klaus.

He was late, as always. He said he had to deal with something else first, but promised to be back for the action. But he wasn't. Who arrives to a good ol ́ slaughtering too late? A thousand-year-old vampire, with so much blood spilled he got bored of it, that's who.

It was unbelievable. What were you supposed to do until he decided to arrive? Sulk in the silence you despised until the wolves showed up? 

Pfft. Nobody valued punctuality anymore. 

The door rattled again and a few more stepped into the establishment. Among them was a tall guy that seemed to steal the attention immediately. He was towering over most with his height and radiated confidence with how tall he stood. Although his appearance seemed somewhat juvenile, his calm and unhurried nature made him look quite composed. In this city, and especially in the tense situation it has been in for months, he seemed out of place. He was too happy to stay alive here.  

You watched him observe the cowering crowd on the left side of the room, then your side, then back again before he was headed straight into your direction.  You pretended to read the lower lines on the page, hiding your face behind as much book as you could without looking like a complete idiot. What was he trying to prove talking to you?  

His heartbeat was erratic when he sat down, so much so, you saw his fingers rising and falling with his pulse. You observed him, glancing over the edges of the book. 

He had slightly curled brown hair and what looked like grey to blue eyes. You were unable to tell in the dimmed light. He had something familiar about him, but you could not put your finger on it. Perhaps you've crossed paths somewhere before. Or perhaps he had just a face you easily mistaken for someone else. 

After a few moments of silence, you decided to speak “You sure you want to sit here with me?” 

“It's the best seat in the house. And I like to piss people off.” He said, his British accent trickling through his speech. He looked over his shoulder, scoffing at the people that stared at him “Look at them, knickers twisted in a nod already.”

"What, are you some against the stream type of guy?"

"You have no idea." He smiled. It wasn't the kind of smile you ́d see every day, it was drunk with stories untold and probably on the defiant side "Or maybe you do." 

He watched you intently, as your eyes drifted on the table and the book still open in your hand. 

“I know that ghosts have wandered the earth. Be with me always--take any form--drive me mad.” 

“What?” You asked, and he lifted his head to nod to the book. “Oh. You ́re a fan of Wuthering Heights?”

“I ́m a witcher with remarkable taste.” He shrugged "In books and company." 

Ah, a witch. You knew there was something he was hiding. There was something in the way he held himself that bled familiar secrecy. You were an expert juggling several secrets at once, figuring out if someone else carried them was easy. 

“Brave of you to admit that.” You replied, “It's not really save for you here right now.”

Despite your warning, he did not look like he would leave any time soon, “What can I say, I ́m a thrill-seeker.” 

The door rattled once again, this time it fell into the lock with a loud banging. You looked over and recognized the Guerrera wolf pack immediately.

“Yeah well, it's about to get really thrilling here.” You said and the stranger next to you roamed your face with an intense stare you shifted uncomfortably on your seat. “You should probably leave if you want to keep your limbs attached to your body. They´re not fucking around.”

 “Nonsense.” He shook his head slightly. ”They ́re nothing but rabid dogs that need to be put down.”

You expected him to run, or to look at you as if you lost your mind, but instead, he hopped on board of the murder train.  Not that you were complaining. 

“I don't ́t know who you are, but you're definitely speaking my language now.” You said “What's it gonna be? You ́re up to cause some trouble?”  

“Well, it's a lovely day for a riot, isn't it?” He replied.

“A riot, huh? Not a bad idea.” 

He scooted closer and lowered his voice, “Do you see the group in the back? A rival werewolf pack with a score to settle.”

“You gotta love coincidences sometimes.”  

All you needed was a little push. A shoulder colliding, a hateful glare or - god forbid - an insult. That would be all it took to start a fight. They were so easily manipulated, it was almost comical.

You looked at the group on the other side of the room. They were heavily engaged in a conversation, and all but one listened eagerly. One girl was off to the side, quietly listening to groups meaningless chatter, while she stared holes into the other pack´s backsides.

The quiet ones were a breed of their own. They were the ones observing when the rest was talking their life away and that made them dangerous when they finally spoke. They saw what others overlooked. And that was always the perfect target to rile up. 

You gave her a little magic courage by whispering a spell into your hand before you let your breath carry it over to where she was sitting.

She slammed her glass on the table, the malty liquid spilling over the edges. Her companions looked at her briefly, before they returned to their conversation.

She walked over and knocked the drink out of one guy ́s hand with the force of her shoulder colliding with his much larger frame. He turned to her and recognized her face - his packs rivals - instantly.  

There was stillness first before the girl threw the first punch, then there was suddenly movement. Both sides rose from their seats and clashed together. Screams broke out. Furniture ripped. Bones broke. Blood was spilled.

It was magnificent chaos.

One of the participants on the sidelines decided to head for your table, dodging a broken off table leg that flew through the air. You shared an unimpressed look with the stranger next to you before he leaned back and gave you free rein to do what you wished to him.

With a look that bled concentration and the rubbing of your index finger with your thumb, you magically splintered every single bone in his body. The sound was drowned in the backgrounds happenings that included shattering glass, growling and howls of pain. He continued to scream bloody murder, and then, suddenly his face grew stoic as if made of stone, and he fell forwards, his jaw colliding with the edges of the table.

“Wrong table to squabble with, mate.” The stranger snickered. He leaned back, dodging a scrap of wood that came flying in his direction.

His amusement was short-lived, however, when he failed to sense a second, much larger piece of wood - a broken off table leg knocked him square into the back of his head, and he slumped forward, his head colliding with the table surface. 

"Shit." You whisper under your breath. You listened for his pulse, hoping he hadn't just broken his neck, but his heart was still drumming along just fine. 

Something peaked out of the bag hung over his shoulder, a written letter it seemed. On a second look, you couldn't believe what you saw. They were in your handwriting. 

You did not have the time to ponder about how the stranger got them, because someone rapidly approached from behind. You moved just in time, and the makeshift stake pierced through your shoulder instead. 

“Ah, the free stake for my drink. How nice.” You forced the guy off of you, and you gripped the stake and pulled out from the front. “Can I keep or do you want it back? You want it back, right?”

It was slick with your blood when you hurled it towards the attacker. It flew through the air and landed in his eye, piercing the iris like a bullseye.

“Damn my aim is good.” You congratulated yourself. The attacker, though now most likely blind on one eye, growled and you knew you´d finally had someone almost equal to fight against. “Come and get me.” 

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

You held the letters in your bloodstained hands when a set of heavy footsteps echoed through the now lifeless room. You looked over your shoulder to see Klaus standing there, taking in the chaos you created. 

One wolf was impaled on the wall, others stained the floor with blood that came out of their eyes and some had gaping holes in their chest where their hearts had been. 

“What is this?” He asked, counting the casualties to more than a dozen. Both supernatural and human.

“A party gone wrong. Or right, depends how you look at it.” You laughed and gave him a glance in the hopes he would reciprocate your joke, but he wasn't laughing. 

Instead, you saw how dishevelled he looked. His dark jacket had a gaping hole with what looked like dried blood on the edges. 

“Looks like I ́m not the only one that got staked.” You said and brushed your fingers over the same spot. 

His eyes flickered from your wound to his own, and judging by his face he discovered something close to an epiphany. "It appears so." 

You went back to counting the moonlight rings by throwing them in a make-shift bag out of some dead guys shirt. “But look, I made it look like a very deadly bar brawl, it's fine. Nobody saw anything supernatural. ” 

“Though you did achieve what we discussed, we also agreed to be discreet. This is far from it. ”

You could not believe what you heard. Klaus and discretion was like war without casualties - simply not possible. 

“Seriously, what happened to you? Where's the big bad wolf I know and loathe?"

“At lost has happened.” He replied quietly. You expected him to reply with usual sarcasm, but when you turned an utterly different version of the mighty Klaus laid before you. A broken man, torn apart by the love and loss of his child. Once fueled by rage, he now ran on guilt and grief. 

You felt pity for him, you did, but this was still Klaus. But however morbid and unfair it might have sounded, it could have happened to someone less deserving of such grievances. 

"Losing the only person who'll never see you as the monster you truly are hurts, doesn't it?" You finally said, “Especially if you're to blame.”

His face was hard, but regret slipped past his stoicism, and you knew he understood that what just slipped past your lips was directed mostly at yourself, rather than him. 

“This one is still alive.” Klaus diverted the topic to the stranger that was still passed out on your table. 

"Leave him."

“Friend of yours?" He asked with a slight smirk that tugged on the corners of his mouth. 

“I don't know yet.” You replied, before tying a knot in the shirt “Catch.” 

You threw the bag to him, and the silver rings clacked together when Klaus balled his fist around them.

“Listen, I have to report back to Esther soon, and you ́ll hear things that ́ll probably piss you off. Just remember that I am not working against you. You'd be the first to know if I did."

"Well, you do look quite trustworthy kidnapping that lad. How could I not trust you with the person I loathe most?"  

“I guess you have to put your paranoia aside and trust me for once.” 

The irony of what you just said, almost made you laugh. If Klaus knew you had the person he feared most trapped only a few miles away. If it ever came to him knowing about your involvement in reviving Mikael, you ́d be on a real warpath with Klaus. Not the cat and mouse game you used to play, a real war where your odds less than optimistic.

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

No passport, no driver ́s licence, no name - you found nothing to identify the stranger you dragged through the French Quarter. How did a Noname like him get to your letters? How could he have possibly known? If he knew about that hiding spot, what else 

All these questions ran through your head, staring at the French Quarter streets below you. You chose this building because it was small, unconscious and out of the way. It had somehow managed to elbow it ́s way between a block of apartments and was longer than it was wide and the rooms were stacked on top of one another like a house of cards.

Ambulance sirens rang through the narrowed streets, heading to Roussous. Finally, someone found them. You always found it amusing that, after a massacre or any life-ending violence they chose to send ambulances instead of coroners as if someone was still needing it. They lived amongst creatures that were death walking on two feet, and even then they chose to remain hopeful, that somehow they too were able to cheat death. 

Unwavering hope ....yeah no, that ship had sailed. 

Your ears picked up stirring and a pained groan from inside, and you went inside. He was sitting up on the couch in the middle of the room, looking around to orientate himself. You thought about chaining him to the radiator, but it would have been overkill. 

“Kinky.” Noname chuckled, inspecting the witch shackles you put on him when he was unconscious “Under different circumstances, I ́d say this is bound to be fun. This isn't quite it.”

“If you ́re thinking about strangling me with those chains, forget about it. You wouldn't succeed.”

“Oh, I know I wouldn't. You ́re Y/N after all.” He said, and grinned when he saw the surprise flashing over your face “Though I have to say, you ́re way prettier in person.” 

Was this guy serious? 

“So you know who I am.” You said, glancing over his flirtatious attempt to gain your sympathy. 

“Well, you're practically famous around here.”He shrugged “ I ́m a lot like you, you know? Don't really believe in authority. We ́re.. kindred souls.”

You let out a huff. This guy was killing you with his endless chatter.

“Listen, there's only one thing I need to know before I decide what to do with you.” You picked up the letters on the table in front of him “Who the fuck are you, and how did you get these?” 

“Well, that's a rather long story. But let's start at the beginning.” He said and stretched out his hand as far as he could, “My name is Kaleb.”

-------

A/N: And we´re back with another one ^^ If you´re still reading this when I post it, you´re probably used to me being slow as hell, so sorry once again. Uni, work and life just get in the way of my writing even more than it has months ago. So feel free to wait until more chapters of this are done, I won´t mind. 

Anyway, what did you think of this one? Did you like it? Was there anything that stood out to you? Anything that you liked or disliked? Whatever it is, let me know! I would love to hear your thoughts.

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[ambitionsource]

AMBITION Season 2 ♫ “Got A Lotta Livin’ To Do” [ 2.08 ]

CREATED BY Esther (rapunzles) & Maggie (quincywillows) || S2 Tag || Official Page

YOUTH IS WASTED ON THE YOUNG – Devastating news sends the junior class reeling. When decisions are made for all the wrong reasons, everybody must face the consequences. Eric is haunted by signs he may have missed.

62 Minutes (16K words) || CONTENT WARNING: mentions of suicide; underage drinking; mild physical harassment. Take care of yourselves and read with discretion.

[ ← Contingency Plan ] [ S2 Synopsis ] [ World Uncertain → ]

( Follow along with the music on Spotify here! )

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Lovely” as performed by Billie Eilish & Khalid || Performed by Isadora De La Cruz, Riley Matthews, Maya Hart, Charlie Gardner, Zay Babineaux, and Lucas James Friar

The soft piano eases us into the episode, a long shot of the hallways of AAA less lively than usual. Whereas there is often dancing, laughter, and commotion in the opening hours of the school day, today it’s still.

ISADORA DE LA CRUZ is the first person to appear, standing alone in front of the display case outside the auditorium. There are photographs from Into the Woods up, and that’s what is holding her focus as she delivers the opening verse. As she turns and begins to walk down the hall, CHARLIE GARDNER appears within frame and joins in the vocals, growing more and more distant the further Isadora walks from him.

The whole number progresses with this disjointed sort of feeling -- the students being together, but feeling distinctly apart. The vocal focus shifts from the two of them to MAYA HART then to RILEY MATTHEWS and ZAY BABINEAUX, their voices melting seamlessly into one another due to the heaviness of the delivery.

The moment it all comes together is about halfway through in the second verse, when all of them come together along with LUCAS FRIAR. Zay behind Isadora, Charlie behind Maya, Lucas behind Riley. The six of them look straight at the camera with blank expressions as they march down the hall, seemingly in sync for this one captured moment of grief.

Oh I hope some day I’ll make it out of here...

It’s a long, continuous shot, staying with Maya as she abruptly halts and the other five disperse around her. She’s standing in front of Farkle’s locker. Frozen, transfixed by it. She lifts her hand to touch it and then decides against it, pulling her hand back. She swivels away from it, the riffs of her classmates echoing as she drifts her way back towards the auditorium.

INT. AAA - DRESSING ROOM HALL - DAY

We’re following Maya as she walks, making her way through the hall...

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

And out into the wings, stage lights down and house lights up as she passes through the stage and towards the stairs to the front and center section of seats. The rest of the junior A class is there amongst them, but they’re blurry and out of focus.

Maya settles into one of the chairs, camera rotating around to see the stage. JACK HUNTER, ERIC MATTHEWS, HARPER BURGESS, and SHAWN HUNTER are assembled, expression and demeanors somber as they address the A class. As the song comes to an end and their voices become audible, Jack’s words of understanding still feel far away.

Jack: … understand how overwhelming this might be. Which is why we are going to process it together. If there is anything you need…

The focus is back on Maya, having spun our way around to the front. Easing in on her empty expression…

Cue title sequence.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

Jack and Eric continue on with their opening remarks, explaining the resources that they have available in light of what has happened with Farkle Minkus. Harper and Shawn nod along, equally as solemn. Harper seems particularly fragile, hands clasped so tightly in front of her she’s turning her knuckles white.

Additionally, as Eric explains, he’ll be available at any hour the next week if any of them need to come talk through what they are feeling about the situation. He emphasizes that the worst thing any of them can do at this time is isolate themselves, and every one of them up on stage -- and any other faculty -- are there for them.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

The halls continue to feel muted even though the day marches on. At one end of the hall, NIGEL CHEY talks softly with YINDRA AMINO and JADE BEAMON. He reaches out a hand to touch Jade’s elbow, extending comfort.

A little further down, ASHER GARCIA and DYLAN ORLANDO are having a difficult conversation. Asher isn’t looking at him as he swaps items from his bag to his locker, meticulously nitpicking at the books on the shelves as a distraction. Dylan is leaning against the row with his arms crossed, delicately broaching the conversation.

Dylan: You heard what Mister E said. The worst thing we can do right now is isolate, and that’s all he’s been doing for months.

Asher: I know.

Dylan: That has to be the reason he said any of that stuff, anyway. It’s like you said, it’s like he wants to push people away. I’m not saying it’s right, or anything, and you know I’m on your side. I’m just thinking that --

Asher: Okay, but even if he didn’t mean it, he still said it. And you know I’m not just -- I know what you mean. I do. [ fussing with his backpack ] But at what point do we say okay, this is all I can take? I’ve been pushing the line further and further back because of exactly that, because I don’t want him to be alone, because he’s my friend, but where do we draw the line? When does it finally become too much --

Asher nearly drops his backpack and gasps, catching it and cursing under his breath. He takes a moment and closes his eyes, breathing deeply. Dylan frowns, reaching out and rubbing his shoulder.

When he’s pulled it together, Asher turns to face him. His tone is soft, touching Dylan’s arm.

Asher: You know I’m not going to tell you what to do. You can make your own decisions. I just…

[ Dylan listens attentively. He shifts his hand to touch Asher’s cheek, a subtly encouraging gesture that signals it’s safe to say whatever he needs to say. ]

Asher: Right now, I can’t. I just... need space.

A reasonable request, considering how much he’s already done for Lucas. Dylan nods. Asher gives him a tight smile, sharing a quick kiss before he closes his locker and shuffles down the hall for his next class.

Dylan watches him go, releasing a sigh and leaning back against the lockers.

Jack, pre-lap: It is imperative that we act with caution.

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - DAY

Our junior faculty is assembled, CORY MATTHEWS joining Harper and Shawn in meeting with Eric and Jack. The principal is seated at his desk, leading the more candid discussion of how they should approach a guaranteed difficult week. Cory says what they’re all thinking.

Cory: I just can’t believe it.

The main takeaway from the meeting seems to be that whether they like it or not, the group of them are role models in this situation. How they handle this will help inform the students on how to handle it, so it’s up to them to be in control of their emotions and act as pillars for the A class to lean on. Harper questions if this means they’re just pretending it didn’t happen, obviously the one struggling the most with keeping her emotions in check.

Eric refutes this take, pointing out that their primary role is still to be a teacher. He warns against initiating conversations about it, as some students may not want to talk about it or address it yet. Those who want to seek conversation will come to them, and if anyone seems in need of counseling then Harper is encouraged to send them his way.

Harper: And what about you? Are you sure you can handle taking on all that extra… have you even gotten to take a moment for yourself?

Eric: When we’re here, our responsibility is for the students. I can handle myself on my own time.

Shawn is the one to point out the other obvious threat -- overreactions. He doesn’t suspect they’ll have any copycats or anything, but then, they didn’t realize it soon enough with Farkle either. The fact of the matter is, there is a lot boiling under the surface of these kids right now because of this, and they’re guaranteed to release that pent up energy eventually. They should be even more vigilant than usual.

Jack seconds the notion. Speaking from experience, some teenagers are very good at concealing what they’re feeling...

INT. AAA - GIRLS DRESSING ROOM - DAY

One such student is Isadora, who is having lunch with Maya. They’re hidden away in the girls dressing room, away from the noise and constant chatter of the cafeteria.

For all intents and purposes, she seems to be handling the news better than others. She’s at least being open and talkative about her attempts to process it, gently nudging Maya into conversation about it.

Isadora: Something similar happened at my last foster home... I won’t go into details, but… it’s like... they kept telling us the same thing over and over again. About feelings, and guilt and all that sort of shit, but none of it really helped. I don’t know what… [ a beat ] This isn’t very helpful either, is it?

Maya isn’t taking to it, that’s for sure. She’s silent, lunch untouched on the countertop next to her. She’s got her feet up on the counter and is hugging her knees, leaning her head against the cool mirror. Not talking, not eating, just… nothing.

Isadora gets the hint, settling into quiet as well. But she assures her that if she does want to talk, she’s there for her.

INT. AAA - ERIC’S OFFICE - DAY

Riley has gone to Eric for lunch, bright with an idea in the chair across from him. It’s a muted sort of enthusiasm, but her eyes are sparkling as she speaks.

Riley: I wanted to run it by you first, though, because I didn’t want to accidentally do something that might make things worse or have some unintentional psychological consequence. I just thought that… it might be nice. For all of us, but also for him. To honor him. [ a beat ] Do you think it would be okay?

Eric: I don’t see any obvious “psychological consequences” in that idea, no. [ smiling ] I think that’s a lovely idea, Riley.

Riley manages a smile. She quickly finishes her food and gathers her things, claiming she wants to get started on organizing it. Eric rises with her, requesting she hold on a second.

He comes around the desk, gently asking if she’s handling everything okay. In light of everything that has happened… he just wants to know. And if there’s anything he can do, can she promise that she will please, please tell him before it gets too deep to come back from.

Riley pauses. Then she pulls her uncle into a hug, the two of them sharing a tight embrace. Every touch means a little bit more right now.

Riley: Promise.

She pulls back first, giving him a smile and heading out. Eric watches her go, a little choked up. He clears his throat, trying to shift back into work mode.

INT. AAA - DANCE STUDIO - DAY

Zay and Charlie are in their usual studio, but they aren’t dancing. The mood is deflated, the two of them sprawled on the floor in what seems to be the start of stretches that never went anywhere. Instead they’re talking, Zay laying on his side and propped up on his elbow. Charlie is leaning back against the mirrors, legs stretched out and feet resting on Zay’s hip.

And even their conversation isn’t its usual rapport. It’s soft and listless, both of them trying to process something that feels impossible to grasp. Zay carries most of it to fill the silence, working through his disbelief and attempting to reconcile that with the collective perspective they all had of Farkle.

Zay: I don’t know. I guess someone that… when they have that sort of personality, you never really think --

Charlie: Could’ve been me.

Charlie says it without thinking, staring at the ballet bars across from them. He only snaps out of his daze when Zay nudges his knee, concern in his features. He repeats the question of what the hell Charlie meant, obviously worried about the statement. Charlie quickly covers it, claiming he just meant that it really could’ve been any of them. Personality and background aside.

Zay doesn’t seem all that placated, so Charlie elaborates. He explains how alone he felt at the end of last year, how easy it is to stumble into those dark places and not really know how to dig yourself out. He’s lucky that he had a support system in place, as well as someone there for him in a way that no one else could be.

He tilts his head to lock eyes with Zay, sincerity shining through his tired gaze.

Charlie: I hope you know how much you mean to me.

The sentiment kind of speaks for itself. Zay softens, placing his hand on Charlie’s leg and gently stroking his knee.

Zay: Ditto.

Charlie waits a moment before placing his hand on top of his. Off their joined hands --

INT. MATTHEWS APARTMENT - NIGHT

Riley and Cory are having dinner together, just the two of them as it may very well be from now on. The two of them skirt around the elephant in the room for a bit until Riley mentions her idea to honor Farkle, stating that that’s what has taken up a majority of her attention.

Tentatively, Riley asks Cory how he’s feeling about the whole thing. Although they don’t give him much credit, he was one of his teachers. He must be thinking about it. So she opens the floor for him to actually get to talk about it instead of putting on a brave face like he does at school. Cory contemplates it.

Cory: Weirdly enough, I keep thinking about first semester.

Riley: Yeah?

Cory: Yeah. Doesn’t have anything to do with the last couple of years, but that’s what I keep coming back to. First week of school isn’t easy for a teacher. Not just because we’re also coming off the freedom of summer, but because there’s a whole new crop of kids to learn about. Not to mention all the others you’re backlogging from other years, but that’s beside the point. At least at Triple A we’re only dealing with about fifty a year, but still a lot to take in.

Riley: I can imagine.

Cory: But Farkle wasn’t like that. It was partially the name -- hard to forget a name like that, so I figured I would match the face pretty easily. But the real reason was because even from the first week, he was always two steps ahead of me. Didn’t matter if it was history or english -- and I do not envy Mr. Norton for having to battle with him in science and math. First week of classes, I’m doing an introduction on Shakespeare, and his hand just shoots up about ten minutes in and he basically takes over the lecture. [ clearing his throat ] I was irritated at the time, a little bit, because it kind of felt like he was stealing my thunder. But came to appreciate it after a while. It was nice to have a student who valued his academic intelligence just as much as his performing ability. [ weakly ] Think maybe I should’ve told him that, at some point.

Riley smiles bittersweetly, reaching across the table to touch his hand. Cory lets out an embarrassed laugh, swiping at his eyes. He holds her hand more securely, locking eyes with her.

Cory: I’m so glad that -- I’m so glad you’re still here with me, Riley. I really, really am.

The statement is loaded, and carries plenty of meaning. Glad she’s there with him and not on the same path as Farkle; glad she’s there with him when everyone else seems to have gone away -- his wife, his son. He’s grateful that, in spite of everything else, she’s still there at his side.

Riley squeezes his hand in return, nonverbally returning the sentiment.

INT. FOSTER HOME - KITCHEN - NIGHT

Isadora is helping BEATRIX TORRES prepare lunches for the younger siblings. Beatrix asks her how she’s grappling with what happened to that classmate of hers, and she brushes it off as if she’s not all that bothered. Sad, of course, but it is what it is. Beatrix doesn’t seem convinced, but before she can question further, STEPHEN VAN HERSCHING requests that Isadora come join them in the dining room.

INT. FOSTER HOME - DINING ROOM - NIGHT

Isadora saunters into the seat across from him and KAREN VAN HERSCHING at the end of the dining table, expecting this to be another meeting to discuss her “behavior” as of late. They hadn’t yet confronted her about the outburst of last week, so she’s resigned as they tentatively begin the conversation.

Only it takes a turn she is not at all anticipating.

Karen: With all of this in mind, we feel it might be time for you to be relocated.

Isadora, stunned: … what?

Stephen, delicately: Clearly, we’re simply not clicking the way we’re supposed anymore. You must have noticed you’d been in respite care more often than usual these past few months, and we’ve been butting heads more than living harmoniously.

Karen: It’s not a comfortable environment for any party, and your siblings are starting to recognize it too. Perhaps that’s a sign that this just… isn’t a good fit.

Isadora chokes back her emotions, instead arguing as bluntly as she can manage. She points out that this has nothing to do with the foster siblings and everything to do with them -- they’re giving up on her because she’s not “normal” the way they’d like her to be. They’ve never known how to handle her, and now they’re giving up because they’re tired of pretending to put in an effort to understand her.

Stephen: Now I wouldn’t say --

Isadora: Of course you wouldn’t, because that would go against your perfect charitable narrative. Take in kids and give them homes, sure, as long as doing so makes you feel good about yourself and offers no potential challenges that you might have to actually lift a finger to work through.

Karen: See, this is exactly what we’re talking about. If you were intent on making this family dynamic work --

Isadora: If you were intent on making this work, you’d act like actual parents and try to understand the children you host rather than shaping them into your good samaritan trophies. When you’re an actual parent, you don’t just toss your kid out when they don’t suit you anymore!

Karen shuts the discussion down, stating that this is how things are going to be. Isadora reins in her frustration and puts on a stony expression. Karen continues to explain how long she’ll have to pack her things, what they’re doing to start arranging for her relocation, but sound goes fuzzy and sort of peters out.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “No Roots” as performed by Alice Merton || Performed by Isadora De La Cruz

The bass line starts in as the Van Herschings continue to mutedly talk at Isadora, finally dismissing her. As she marches from the table and starts to move through the home she launches into the opening verse, keeping her emotions tempered for as long as it takes her to escape to the upstairs.

INT. FOSTER HOME - ISADORA’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

The door slams as she gets to the chorus, volume growing in pitch as she starts to meltdown over the ordeal. She’s being dropped again, removed and shoved off to the next person. Nothing ever lasts, no one ever stays. On top of everything else…

Enraged, Isadora rips a poster down off the wall. That destructive action seems to expand into an all-consuming energy, Isadora basically tearing her bedroom to shreds as she progresses through the rest of the number. It’s a dizzying display, leaving her surrounded by debris by the time the rendition comes to an end.

She stands amidst the ruins of what her temporary home used to be, breathing heavy and clearly exhausted. Then she leans back against the door and slides into sitting, tucking her head into her knees.

INT. AAA - ERIC’S OFFICE - DAY

The silence of Eric’s office is a stark contrast to the anger of moments earlier, the only sound being the active tick of the wall clock. Maya is seated in the chair opposite him, Eric patiently attempting to get her to speak about how she’s dealing with this. Anything at all.

She’s not biting. It’s truly jarring to see Maya Hart so quiet, usually so animated and the natural center of attention. She’s just… void, having nothing to say because she has nothing to give.

Eric: I just want you to understand that there’s no wrong way to process this. Whatever you might be feeling -- sadness, guilt, anger -- all of that is valid. You have the right to feel it, whatever it might be. You don’t have to process it alone.

For now, it seems like she’s content to do so. She continues her silence, avoiding his gaze as she stares blankly at the floor. Eric frowns, obviously wishing there was more he could do.

Anne Marie, pre-lap: Please let me know if there’s anything you need.

INT. AAA - JACK’S OFFICE - DAY

ANNE MARIE WINTHROP is visiting Jack, having brought him lunch from one of his favorite spots. She’s clearly there to offer him comfort, well aware of how difficult this week is going to be for him. Whatever she can do to help, she wants to be able to do it.

Jack claims he’ll be fine, right now all he can do is focus on work and try to keep the tides level. She exchanges a brisk kiss with him, heading out just as Lucas appears in the doorway for a meeting.

The two of them nearly bump into one another, looking at one another in confusion. Anne Marie is certainly no administrator Lucas recognizes, and Lucas wanders the main office too casually to be just some random student swinging by for a visit. Yet, they have absolutely no sense of who the other person is.

Jack seems to sense their trepidation, jumping to introduce them. Anne Marie offers a hand to shake as he does so, which Lucas looks at with a mixture of reluctance and amusement. Is she for real?

Jack: Lucas is one of the technicians in the junior class.

Anne Marie: Oh. Sorry if I’m being rude, I just -- Jack’s never mentioned you, is all.

Lucas, flatly: Yeah, well, there’s not much to say about me. [ shaking her hand ] I’m sort of like the gum under his shoe he just can’t scrape off.

Jack: That’s not true.

Lucas: It’s okay though. He’ll get rid of me some day, I’m sure. A little more scraping and scrubbing, and all grime comes off eventually.

Jack cuts him off, stating he’s said quite enough. An interesting first impression, that’s for sure. Anne Marie delicately removes her hand from his, raising her eyebrows at Jack and assuring him she’ll see him after work. Lucas waits until she’s gone to speak, sliding into his usual seat.

Lucas: You never mentioned you had a girlfriend.

Jack: That’s not exactly relevant information for you to know.

Lucas: We talk about everything else. You know everything about me. [ bluntly ] Shitty parents, booth hopping, failed not-relationships…

Jack waves him off, as that’s definitely not what he wanted to discuss. He cuts to the main reason he requested Lucas come by, checking in on how he’s handling the news about Farkle.

In an instant, Lucas clams up. He says he doesn’t see why he’s checking on him when there’s plenty of people way more distraught than he is. He and Farkle weren’t close. They weren’t even acquaintances. The only thing they had in common, in fact, was how hated they were by everyone else.

But that isn’t the point. When things like this happen, Jack states, people cope with it regardless of how immediately attached to the person they were. He wanted to talk with him and make sure he was okay, because he knows for a fact he won’t be going to chat with Eric. His behavior last week was indicative of that much. Lucas sheepishly claims he’s fine, and the only reason he acted that way was because he doesn’t need to have everyone in his business.

But it’s not convincing to Jack, and he continues to push out of concern until Lucas slightly cracks. He lashes out about yeah, he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it. Not because he gave a shit about Farkle, but sort of because of exactly that reason.

Lucas: So you want to know what I’m feeling? I’m feeling like absolute shit. But not for the reason everyone else is, the reason I should be, because I’m heartbroken or sad or suffered some great personal tragedy. And that’s all part of it -- I feel like shit because I am shit. I’m shit because this horrible thing happened, and all I can focus on is me. Because we were both trash, but if anyone deserved it… [ huffing ] Because for three years, I treated Farkle like shit, and I can’t stop doing it to everyone else, and now he --

Lucas can’t bring himself to finish the sentence. He swallows whatever he was going to say, slouching back in his seat and pressing his knuckles to his chin. Jack attempts to process everything he just said, wondering where to even begin.

Lucas: Is that what you wanted me to say? Is that what you wanted to hear?

He gets up without waiting for a response, making a quick escape. Jack sits there, dumbstruck, not at all sure how to unpack all of that. Wanting to help, but not having any idea how -- not even sure he can. Perhaps he should’ve heeded Eric’s advice about not pushing conversations…

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

Riley is at Farkle’s locker, having been opened by Harley to be cleaned out and returned. She’s gathering his things in a bag, also getting a feel for what she’s working with in whatever her grand idea is.

She sighs, shifting her focus to the inside door. There are still those lingering photos from last year, striking a nerve in her she wasn’t expecting. She gently touches the Les Mis cast photo, then shifts her gaze to one he has of him and Maya. It was taken on their hooky day, and somehow captures just how greatly Farkle cherished their friendship before he blew it all up.

Riley’s eyes are glossy, but she’s pulled from the moment by the conversation of a couple seniors a few lockers down. They’re discussing how heavy the week has been because of the junior class, neglecting to realize that the locker of who they’re chatting about is only a few feet away.

They both agree they’re eager for the weekend to unwind for a hot minute, highlighting the underground NYU party that they both got the deets for. Yeah, they’re still in high school, but this is one of those ones where they let seniors in for a few bucks so long as they dress the part and don’t go too overboard.

Interesting information to overhear. Riley absorbs the details as she hides behind Farkle’s locker door, stopping herself just in time from subconsciously bending his photo of Maya.

INT. AAA - BLACK BOX THEATER - DAY

The bell rings, pulling the junior class back together for lecture. They all saunter into the black box, the mood somber and all eyes avoiding the empty seats in the room. One less occupied than it should be. A couple of students are visibly shaken, like NICK YOGI who is far from his usual level of energetic, and HALEY FISHER, who is wiping tears on her sleeve a few rows back.

Harper steps up to the board and attempts to proceed on like business as usual, but she keeps losing her train of thought. She gets caught on Haley crying in the back of the room, wanting to say something, but remembering what Jack and Eric said about operating with caution.

Charlie: Miss Burgess? [ after she looks at him ] Are you alright?

No. No, Charlie, she’s not. As if the question is the trigger, Harper starts to cry. She apologizes and tries to pull it together, but then she’s sobbing harder. Totally eclipsed by the reality of what has happened and unable to run away from it any longer.

The A class stares at her, uncertain what to do or how to respond. The room feels frozen in the agony of it, until Shawn steps up and joins Harper at the front of the classroom. He leans in close, muttering to her with a semblance of privacy.

Shawn: Go. I’ve got them, just go.

Harper blinks at him, stunned, but takes his directive. She rushes out of the room, still trying to pull herself together. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Shawn awkwardly clears his throat and then attempts to take over the lesson to the best of his ability.

INT. AAA - DRESSING ROOM HALL - DAY

Catching up with the junior A class, they’re scattered about the auditorium during breakout sessions. But no one is actually rehearsing anything, mostly just coming together to comfort one another. DARBY WINTERS and SARAH CARLSON are in the dressing room hall, Sarah hugging Darby as she cries.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

In the wings, Zay, Yindra, and Nigel are seated on some spare acting blocks. Charlie and Clarissa are in the backstage area, comforting a distraught Haley who cannot seem to stop crying. In the back center section of the house, the techies are huddled together. NATE MARTINEZ has his arm around DAVE WILLIAMS, who is flushed and rubbing his eyes. JEFF MONROE is massaging Jade’s shoulders while she continues to costume in spite of how she’s actively crying, preferring to focus on something productive rather than wallow.

Dylan breaks from the techie huddle, gently scratching Asher’s back as he passes him to let him know he’s going. He makes his way back down through the house and up onto the stage, heading to the other side of the wings in pursuit of something or someone specific.

INT. AAA - COSTUME LOFT - DAY

He finds who he’s looking for soon enough. Isadora is no longer so in control of her emotions, aggressively sawing at a piece of wood with safety goggles on. Dylan claims he’s happy he found her, as he wanted to see how she was doing. He knows she’s been kind of dealing with a lot of shit lately, let alone on top of this.

Isadora, unimpressed: Oh, do you now?

Isadora pulls off her goggles and steps away from the wood, avoiding looking at him. He persists in expressing his concern anyway, stating that they’re friends and it’s important for people not to feel alone right now.

Unintentionally, this comment is the straw that breaks the camel’s back. Isadora snaps, saying it’s a shock for him to call them that when they’ve hardly interacted much in the last few months. Where was he when the entire techie crew decided to cold shoulder her? Or after the blow up in class when her mom visited -- he sure didn’t come running after her then. He didn’t try to get Lucas to lighten up on her, none of them thought to invite her to their new techie holiday plans.

Then it just spirals from there, Isadora no longer able to keep the lid on her emotions about anything. What’s going on with the Van Herschings, how her friendship with Lucas has deteriorated, the fact that she can’t seem to get the balance between two worlds right. How she knew something was up with Farkle, and she tried to reach out, but she didn’t do it right because she never does anything right. She could’ve done more, and yet she fucked up that too.

Dylan listens without argument to all of it, an unfair but willing recipient of all her anger. He lets her snarl at him and throw blame around and completely meltdown until she runs out of steam, collapsing down against the chain link that separates the costuming supplies from the set building supplies. She descends into tears, hiding in her arms and at rock bottom.

For a beat, uncertainty. Then, without a word, Dylan walks over and joins her on the floor under the shadow of the costume loft. He doesn’t touch her, or offer an uplifting word. He simply sits with her, being another presence in the room. There with her to sort through all that turmoil.

Tangible proof that she’s not as alone as she feels.

INT. ANGELA’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

ANGELA MOORE returns home, greeting Shawn who is working on the couch. She tiredly explains that she went to pay a visit to the Minkus family.

Shawn: How are they?

Angela: About how you’d expect.

She settles onto the couch with him, allowing him to drape an arm around her shoulders. She cuddles close, shaking her head and claiming that she can’t imagine what they’re going through right now. She only knows what she’s struggling to grapple with, and that’s already difficult enough. Shawn nods along, kissing her temple.

Angela: I just keep thinking… if I hadn’t gone away. If I hadn’t taken the job, you know, and I was still his teacher…

Shawn argues against the train of thought before it even starts. There’s no sense in trying to figure out if one or two tiny decisions were deciding factors in something like this -- and they rarely ever are anyway. She was his favorite teacher, after all, if anything she already did more good for him than anyone else.

Angela sighs, trying to accept that as truth. She asks how everyone else at AAA is doing, and Shawn admits it’s tough. He mentions what happened with Harper, speaking sympathetically about his co-teacher for perhaps the first time. As he’s doing so, the reality of their warped dynamic seems to hit him full force.

Shawn: … fuck. I’ve got to fix this, Ange.

Her expression says it all. Maybe so. He gives her another long kiss on the forehead before climbing to his feet.

INT. FOSTER HOME - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

Isadora is meeting with her SOCIAL WORKER, the latter explaining what this process will be like as she is relocated. She’s hardly listening though, as this is far from the first time she’s heard the spiel.

When the caretaker explains that she will be squatting at the Van Herschings until she’s assigned a new home, that seems to strike something in Isadora. From the way her eyes are burning, it’s clear that doesn’t resonate with her. No way is she going to just hang around in a place where it’s been made clear she’s no longer welcome.

INT. MATTHEWS APARTMENT - NIGHT

Riley is pacing the living area, on the phone with TOPANGA LAWRENCE. She’s explaining the laborious process of moving upstate, only switching topics to what is going on with Riley far too long into the conversation.

Riley, flatly: Well, I don’t know if you heard, but one of my classmates overdosed. So.

Although her advice is well-meant, Topanga’s immediate response is to start problem-solving, which is not what Riley wants to hear. She can’t even get a word in about her project for Farkle, Topanga dominating the conversation with thoughts on how to cope and questioning the environment of the school that would push a student to that.

Topanga: You know, there really are some excellent schools here upstate. If you’re ever feeling as though things at the art school are just too hectic…

A nice suggestion, but exactly the opposite of what Riley needs right then. She’s sick of jumping from place to place only for it to constantly fall apart -- what she wants is for the home she’s built at AAA to become hospitable again. All in all, the conversation leaves Riley feeling more claustrophobic, directionless, endlessly doing the wrong thing regardless of how much right she’s trying to do.

She hangs up, collapsing into the bay window and looking out towards the twinkling lights of the city. Still bustling with activity in spite of how the world seems to have frozen around them.

She could sure afford to unwind for a hot minute…

INT. MATTHEWS APARTMENT - MASTER BEDROOM - NIGHT

Maya’s phone is ringing, Katy lighting up the screen once again. Maya reaches out and hits ignore, stuffing her phone in her pocket.

Her expression is still hard to read as she gathers her duffle bag onto her shoulder. She’s dressed in dark clothing and obviously on a mission, no longer doing nothing but gearing up to certainly do something.

She crawls out onto the fire escape with her duffle, disappearing into the night.

EXT. LUCAS’S APARTMENT - LUCAS’S FIRE ESCAPE -  NIGHT

Lucas is seated out on his fire escape, also looking out into the night. He’s clenching his jaw, picking at the scabs on his hands again, seeming restless and a far cry from coping well over someone he wasn’t all that close to.

Swiftly, he pulls out his phone and dials a number. He waits impatiently until they pick up, eyes shining with mischief.

Lucas: You busy? [ a beat ] I gotta do something.

INT. GARDNER HOME - DINING ROOM - NIGHT

The Gardner family is assembled for dinner, ELEANOR GARDNER leading them in prayer before they settle in for the meal. This evening is a bit out of the ordinary, however, as Eleanor includes a plea of forgiveness for Farkle’s mortal soul and to have mercy on him. Charlie opens his eyes in shock, blinking at his mother as she wraps it up with prayers towards the Minkus family and a curt amen.

Charlie is the only one not to repeat the word. Eleanor glances at him, surprised to see the disturbed expression on his face. She questions what’s going on, and Charlie asks what the heck she meant by including Farkle and asking for his “forgiveness.”

Eleanor treads cautiously, understanding that Charlie is likely overwhelmed by what’s happened and thusly pardons his attitude. She reminds him that suicide is a mortal sin, one of the gravest a human can commit as it goes against God’s power over human life. She’s merely hoping the Lord will take mercy on him when the time comes for his judgment.

Charlie: Well, don’t you think that’s a bit cold?

Eleanor: I think it’s a bit cold to decide that your wants and desires are greater than the will of the Lord.

Charlie: Maybe, but… don’t you think he deserves a little more sympathy? You don’t know what was going on with him, or even who he was. The Bible even says that mental health can absolve responsibility of it as a mortal sin --

Eleanor: Which is up for Him to decide, not me, and certainly not you.

Charlie wants to say more, but he finds he’s out of words. He just feels sick, staring at his mom as if he doesn’t even recognize her. Rosie looks back and forth between them, uncertain. Ambrose starts to say something to assuage the tension, but Charlie beats him to it. He pushes away from the table.

Charlie, disgusted: I need to be excused.

Eleanor: Perhaps that’s a good idea.

He marches out of the room without looking back. Eleanor and Ambrose watch him go, both appearing concerned. Rosie and Daisy keep their heads down, pushing around their food but not eating it.

INT. GARDNER HOME - CHARLIE’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Charlie escapes into his room, slamming his door behind him. He paces restlessly before flopping down on his bed, grabbing his pillow and screaming into it to muffle the sound.

When he puts it down, he pushes himself back into a sitting position. He runs his hands through his hair, letting out an exhausted exhale. His gaze drifts out his balcony and towards the lights of the city, Charlie getting lost in the view for a moment.

Slowly, his expressions hardens to a glare.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “A Lot of Livin’ To Do” as performed by Bye Bye Birdie Original Broadway Cast || Performed by AAA Juniors

Charlie kicks off the first verse, on edge and bristling with energy. He pushes himself off his bed and into a pace, then seems to be struck with an idea. He quickly packs a bag and climbs out onto his balcony.

EXT. GARDNER HOME - NIGHT

Charlie lands outside his balcony and looks up at it as he backs onto the sidewalk, finishing off his verse as he sprints towards his car.

INT. MATTHEWS APARTMENT - MASTER BEDROOM - NIGHT

Riley takes up the brunt of the next verse, singing about “men of 19 or 20, who are suave and reckless and true.” She’s dressed up and looking glamorous in bold makeup, a leather jacket she took from Maya’s closet, and semi form-fitting clothes, but she also… doesn’t really look like herself. She looks as though she’s trying to be something she’s not -- which is precisely what she’s doing.

She musters her confidence in the mirror before grabbing her purse and clambering out of the bay window.

INT. FOSTER HOME - NIGHT

Isadora is following the same routine. She has stuffed everything she cares about into a backpack and an overnight bag, clambering down the stairs and marching into the night without anyone noticing. Not intending to ever come back.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - NIGHT

Kicking off a pattern for the episode, the rest of the number is split between events happening in real time, and a fictionalized performance on the AAA stage. In this case, that performance belongs to the A class (sans everyone featured out and about), Nigel taking on the vocal heft of the performance.

The strangest thing about their otherwise enjoyable rendition is how jarring it is to see Asher without Dylan. Asher is amidst his classmates, dancing with Jade and the other techies in the grounded stage performance, but his boyfriend is nowhere to be found.

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - NIGHT

That’s because Dylan, on the other hand, has met up with Lucas and they’re jogging the back streets of a wealthier district in the city. They’re alight with chaotic energy, as Lucas is kicking up his thievery to even higher levels tonight. Dylan tosses him a tool as they come around one of the fancy, shiny sports cars sitting parked on the street, Lucas starting the process of breaking into the vehicle.

He succeeds, pulling open the door and disabling the security mechanism swifter than it can react. He and Dylan exchange grins, Lucas climbing behind the wheel.

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - NIGHT

Maya has taken up residency in an alleyway, a busy street just overhead. She’s hard at work, opening her duffle to reveal an assortment of spray paint. Her expression is removed and determined, setting to work as she starts graffiting right over the camera.

EXT. BABINEAUX HOME - NIGHT

Zay’s car is the only one in the driveway as Charlie pulls up on the curb, abruptly killing the engine. He jogs up to the door, knocking urgently. He’s practically bouncing on the balls of his feet, unable to stay still.

INT. BABINEAUX HOME - ENTRYWAY - NIGHT

Zay descends from upstairs and pulls open the door in confusion, finding Charlie on the doorstep. Not even a second passes before Charlie steps inside and pulls Zay into a kiss, showing zero hesitation in initiating.

Something about this kiss is different, too. Insistent. Impatient. Zay is startled for a moment until he catches up and kisses him back, shutting the front door.

INT/EXT. NEW YORK STREETS / STOLEN CAR - NIGHT

Lucas and Dylan seem to be having the time of their lives, speeding down the night streets in their joy ride vehicle. Dylan shouts into the night and nudges Lucas on the arm, the latter grinning and picking up speed.

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - NIGHT

Isadora is wandering the streets, obviously not sure where the hell she’s going to go. She’s so distracted she almost walks right into the streets, only getting startled out of it when a police siren snaps her out of it.

She hops back onto the sidewalk as the cruiser breezes past, lights blinking and sirens blaring.

INT. BABINEAUX HOME - ZAY’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Things have grown serious for Zay and Charlie as well. They’re deep into kissing, but Charlie still seems to be operating with a more frantic tenor than normal. There’s a moment where Zay pulls back and starts to question if this is okay but Charlie steers right past it, pulling him back into it.

Kisses deepen… shirts come off… Zay fumbles back onto the mattress and Charlie follows...

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - NIGHT

Maya is finishing up her project, startled out of her focus by the distant sound of sirens. She scrambles to gather her things and takes off into the darkness.

EXT. COLLEGE PARTY - NIGHT

Riley approaches the entrance to the underground college party, being held at what seems like an old warehouse of some kind. She makes tentative eye contact with the older guy monitoring the doors, but he doesn’t pay her any more attention than the other college girls slipping inside.

She smiles to herself, descending down the steps and into the party scene.

INT/EXT. NEW YORK STREETS / STOLEN CAR - NIGHT

The fun comes to an end about the same time as the song, the A class underscoring the blare of sirens as they catch up to Lucas and Dylan. The world around them reflects blue and red as Lucas stares at the rear view mirror, expression shifting from thrilled to alarmed.

Lucas, fiercely: Shit.

They pull over. Dylan glances over his shoulder at the lights and then back to Lucas, panicked.

INT. AAA - ERIC’S OFFICE - NIGHT

Eric is still at school, working overtime and cleaning up his office as an excuse to avoid everything else. His fragile bubble pops though as he finishes clearing his desk, stumbling upon some old notes he made to himself about Farkle and his behavior.

He stares at it, hands shaking. His expression twitches, betraying his strong facade.

INT. HARPER’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Harper is pacing her apartment, on the phone with STELLA CASTILLO. She assures her that she doesn’t need to come home from her touring gig early, the situation is tough but she will handle it just fine. She misses her though, and can’t wait to see her again.

There’s a knock at the door, a surprise to Harper. She lets Stella know she has to go, hanging up and going to answer the door.

Shawn is on the other side, obviously a shock to her. He acts nonchalant as he greets her with an eyebrow raise, awkward but just charming enough that he can pull it off.

Shawn: Wanna grab a drink?

Off Harper’s uncertain expression, as “Die Young” floats in --

INT. COLLEGE PARTY - NIGHT

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Die Young” as performed by Kesha || Performed by Riley Matthews

Speaking of drinking, the college party is in full swing! Riley is right in the center of it all, leading a spunky and high energy rendition of this pop classic. She’s parading around with red solo cup in hand, dancing with friendly college girls, having a rocking good time. She also catches the eye of a handful of boys, being a bit flirtatious in her devil-may-care state. There are older men of 19 or 20…

It’s the most wild she’s ever been, and it’s obvious she’s reveling in it. Accommodating and unassuming Riley Matthews, finally doing something because she damn well feels like it.

INT. JACK’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Jack and Anne Marie are having a quiet conversation, interrupted by a knock at the door. Jack goes to answer it, unexpectedly finding a winded and very flushed Eric standing outside.

Eric, broken: It’s my fault. It was my fault.

Jack allows him inside the apartment, guiding him in and immediately trying to get him to calm down. But Eric is in emotional hysterics, doing everything aside from actually crying. He can hardly breathe, he’s tripping over his own words, the works. Jack exchanges a look with Anne Marie, not sure what to say.

She gets the message, grabbing her coat and purse and stating that she’ll give them some space. As she goes, she gently touches Eric’s shoulder and expresses her sincere condolences for everything that has happened. Then she exchanges a cheek kiss with Jack, stepping out and leaving them alone.

Eric grows more frantic, totally incomprehensible. Jack guides him towards the couch and gets him to settle, trying to get him to listen instead of spiraling out of control.

Jack: Eric.

Eric: How many times did we say we needed to bring him in to chat? How many times did I remind myself that I needed to see him but let it get brushed aside by something else? How many times did I meet with him, only to let him go without making any progress?

Jack: Eric --

Eric: We knew, Jack! I knew that something was wrong, I saw the signs, and I didn’t act quick enough! I failed him! It’s my fault, it’s my fault he --

Jack: Eric!

Jack grabs his shoulders, jostling him lightly to get him to pause. He does, allowing Jack the chance to retort. He shifts one his hands to grip the side of his neck, locking eyes with him.

Jack: This is not your fault.

Eric looks like he wants to argue, but he’s out of words. He stares at Jack, eyes glassy and still trembling. Jack holds his gaze… and then pats his shoulder gently.

Jack: Let me make some coffee.

INT. NYPD PRECINCT - HOLDING CELL - NIGHT

Dylan and Lucas are seated on the bench, the former looking nervous while the latter is slouched back against the concrete wall, resigned. Dylan is fidgety, twisting the bracelets on his wrist and tapping his feet and bouncing his leg.

Dylan: This is bad. This is so bad.

Lucas, sharply: Would you calm down? We’re white, we’ll be fine.

The door opens, an OFFICER entering and unlocking the cell. She informs them that someone paid their bail, but they have paperwork to process so they absolutely should not leave the precinct. However, they can retrieve their things and meet with their bail out. Lucas and Dylan exchange a look, following the officer out of the cell.

INT. COLLEGE PARTY - NIGHT

Riley is just finishing pouring herself another drink when THOR (20) sidles up to join her. He’s attractive, sandy-haired, just the right amount of charming. He engages Riley in conversation, asking her a little more about who she is and commenting that he hasn’t seen her around before.

The conversation seems fun for her. She enjoys playing mysterious, leaving him with little answers but accepting his invitation to go dance.

INT. JACK’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Eric has had the chance to settle, no longer frantic but instead having transitioned into a numb sort of state. Jack returns with steaming mugs, handing one to Eric who takes it robotically. Jack sits down next to him, placing the coffee on the table.

Jack: Do you have any idea how much I respect you? Especially now.

Jack points out how hard the last week was on all of them, but especially Eric. And now he has to carry his feelings about it all on top of the collective school emotions, hardly getting any time to process it for himself. So it’s no wonder that he’s feeling overwhelmed --

Eric: I could’ve done something. I could’ve stopped it.

Jack: You know that’s not true. You know that’s not how these things work.

Eric: It was my job. It’s my job to protect them, and I failed.

Jack: Eric, listen to me. [ leaning forward ] This is not your fault. You did not fail. And if you did, then it’s on both of us. It’s both of our jobs to take care of those students. So if it’s on you, then it’s on me too.

He reaches forward and pats Eric’s knee, getting his attention. Eric stares at his hand, then slowly lifts his gaze to meet his eyes.

Jack: You know we work together. We should’ve tackled this together, and we’re going to handle it together. [ softly ] You are not going to face this alone.

Eric hangs on his every word. There’s something about the moment that’s deeper than just a moment of camaraderie, one that neither of them can place but that certainly exists between them… when Jack’s cell phone rings, making both of them jump. He digs for it in his pocket.

Jack, apologetically: Could be the Minkus --

Eric nods, understanding. Jack jumps to his feet, frowning at the number on his caller ID as he steps away to answer it. Eric takes the moment to collect himself, letting out a sigh and hiding his head in his hands.

He straightens up when Jack shouts from the kitchen, startling him.

Jack: He what?

Jack flurries back into the room a second later, scrambling to find his coat. Eric asks what the hell is going on, but in his frenzy Jack isn’t very helpful.

Jack: I have to -- Lucas. He -- I need to go to the station --

Eric: The station? What --

Jack: Please, feel free to stay as long as you need. I’ll be back soon. [ a beat ] Hopefully. Shit. Jesus --

Jack exits in a huff, leaving Eric alone in his apartment.

INT. COLLEGE PARTY - NIGHT

Dancing with a cute stranger at a hazy college party is all fun and games… until it isn’t. Although it doesn’t seem all that out of place considering how other duos around them are acting, when Thor makes an unexpected move and kisses Riley’s neck she clearly isn’t on the same page. She might be tipsy, but she’s cognizant enough to know that’s not the direction she wants to go in.

She jerks away on instinct, Thor still keeping a hand on her arm. He asks her if everything is okay, seemingly innocent. She clears her throat and searches for an excuse, laughing nervously and stating that she doesn’t feel much like dancing anymore.

In the midst of backing away, somehow Thor manages to back her into a dead end against a wall. He suggests that they can go somewhere else if she wants, not reading into her discomfort despite how obvious it feels. Hands shaking and feeling distinctly cornered, Riley grasps for any excuse she can think of.

Riley: I, um… I have to use the restroom.

INT. COLLEGE PARTY - BATHROOM - NIGHT

Riley skirts past a couple of drunk college girls, ducking into a stall and trying to catch her breath. She starts to tear up but talks herself down, knowing she needs to keep her cool. She needs to stay calm, and then she needs to figure out an escape plan.

After a moment, she pulls out her phone. She fumbles to open it, going to her messages and scrolling back to find the right contact.

INT. NYPD PRECINCT - LOBBY - NIGHT

Dylan and Lucas emerge from the hall with the officer, retrieving their items from a plastic bag from when they were arrested. As they direct their attention to the main waiting area, the identity of who bailed them out quickly becomes clear.

Asher marches away from the counter, eyes wide and voice frayed.

Asher: WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?

He’s interrupted before he can even finish the question, Dylan barreling him with a bone-crushing hug. He embraces him with everything in him, obviously so relieved he’s there.

Lucas looks a little less thrilled. He stares at them, confusion shifting to defensive disdain.

Lucas: You called Asher?

Asher pulls back from the hug first, glancing between them. Dylan speaks before he can address Lucas, asking how the hell he paid to bail them out.

Asher, reluctantly: … the fund.

Dylan’s face drops, mortified. The last thing Asher should be doing is dipping into his college fund to get them out of trouble -- especially after expressly stating he needed space.

Dylan: I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t know who else to call. They said call someone, and my first thought was --

Asher: It’s fine. But I’ll ask again. [ looking right at Lucas ] What the hell happened?

Lucas holds his glare, not knowing what to say. He’s saved by the bell, or in this case, his phone ringing. He steps away to answer, turning away from Dylan and Asher. As he frowns at the caller ID and answers the call, in the background Asher takes Dylan’s face and questions whether or not he’s okay.

Lucas: Hello? Riley? [ a beat ] Wait, what? [ a beat ] What?

Dylan and Asher shift their attention to Lucas, watching him warily as he starts to pace. Whatever he’s hearing on the other end, it can’t be good news.

Lucas: Stay where you are. Don’t talk to them. Where are you? [ a beat ] Okay, stay put. It’s going to be okay. I’m coming. It’s going to be fine.

Lucas hangs up, alight with restless energy again. He marches back over to the other two, exhaling shortly before locking eyes with Asher.

Lucas: I need your car.

Asher: I’m -- what? No.

Lucas: I need to go. Riley is -- I have to go now.

Dylan: What’s wrong with Riley?

Lucas: I have to go. Give me your keys.

Asher, stunned: You’re seriously telling me --

Dylan: They said we couldn’t leave --

Lucas: GIVE ME YOUR KEYS!

Asher flinches, reflexively tossing them in his direction. Lucas catches them, not even saying thanks as he sprints out the doors. Dylan and Asher whip around to watch him go, wearing matching shocked expressions.

Dylan, with dread: We’re so fucked.

Asher glances at him then back to where Lucas left, slowly shifting from shocked to pissed.

INT. JACK’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Eric has returned from the kitchen with another cup of coffee, familiar enough with Jack’s apartment from all the hours they’ve spent working together. He settles back onto the couch, breathing deeply and trying to get himself to relax.

He shifts his focus to the paperwork Jack has on the table -- the student files of the junior class. Likely in preparation for their senior summary reports. He flips through them idly, smiling lightly at the grinning portraits of the junior class and their photos from the last three years.

Eric stops cold when he gets to Farkle, smiling smugly back at him from his sophomore student portrait. There’s a subtle shift, just barely perceptible, between that image and the one from junior year. Eric swallows, gently putting down the report back onto the table. He puts it right next to Isadora, and Charlie on the other side.

All of them, right there in front of him. All having no idea how much they mean to him, how desperately he wants to protect all of them like his own family.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “These Are My Children” as performed by FAME Original Broadway Cast || Performed by Eric Matthews

Eric kicks off this impressive vocal performance, sorting through the student files as he articulates how important this role and his influence on the children means to him. He uses the full expanse of Jack’s living room to work through his emotion, delivering a powerful rendition.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - NIGHT

In keeping with the other performances of the evening, the number is split half between his location and half on the AAA stage, railing into the performance with everything he’s got. It’s cathartic, at the very least, and it certainly makes the point crystal clear.

The students at Adams are his children. And he never wants to let another one slip through the cracks ever again.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “HUMBLE.” as performed by Kendrick Lamar || Instrumental

INT. ASHER’S CAR - NIGHT

Lucas is parked outside the college party, staring at the building with obvious reluctance and disdain. He can hear the bass thumping from outside, and a crowded, loud, rowdy hole in the wall is the last place he should be when he’s already on the block for the joy ride.

But he goes anyway. Lucas scowls and climbs out of the car, slamming the door.

INT. COLLEGE PARTY - NIGHT

From the moment he enters the space, it’s overwhelming. Lucas frowns at the haze of smoke and odor of alcohol and weed, weaving his way through the crowd and scanning for Riley. College girls spot him and share interested looks and giggles, but he doesn’t pay any attention.

Finally, he finds her.

Lucas: Riley -- Riley!

He pushes through the crowd to get to her, Riley whipping around when she hears his voice. Her eyes are wide and uncertain.

Riley: Lucas?

He finally makes it to her side, taking her arm and pulling her from the fray. He double takes when he actually gets a good look at her, taking in her… new style. He seems a bit torn on whether or not he should consider it attractive or not, and well aware that this isn’t the time to be thinking about that anyway, but Thor addressing them grabs his attention before he can make a decision either way.

It’s not just Thor, but Thor with friends. There’s about three of them now, and Thor questions where Riley is going so soon. Lucas can tell from her body language and the way she kinda ducks behind him that they’re what caused her to call him in the first place. He does his best to keep things from escalating, calmly explaining that they’re just going to head out.

Thor: Oh, well, you don’t have to rush out. I thought we were having a good time. Weren’t we? [ off Riley’s hesitant expression ] Of course she’s shy now. It’s okay, you don’t have to get bashful around your boyfriend.

Friend, slurring: Didn’t have those problems earlier.

Friend 2: Thor was just telling us how friendly you are. Thought we’d come get to know you ourselves.

Riley looks like she’s going to be sick. Lucas narrows his eyes, fighting a losing battle in keeping control of his anger.

Thor: It’s not like it’s a problem, you’re welcome to join us. [ loftily ] Thought we might have more fun as a group, actually.

Lucas, sharply: Yeah? You think it’s fun to hit on a minor?

That comment seems to hit something in Thor’s drunk friends, but they’re not sober enough to remember why that should be problematic. There’s a little more of a tense back and forth until Riley tries to end it, taking Lucas’s arm and starting to pull him away.

Riley: Lucas, let’s just go. Come on.

Friend: Yeah, go on then, bulldog. Woof!

Lucas is scowling, but he follows Riley’s directive. It’s only after they’ve turned away that Thor makes a crucial mistake.

Thor: Her loss. Fine, then. Go be a nobody somewhere else, slut!

Everything happens so fast. In a second, Lucas has spun back around and thrown a punch, hitting Thor so hard and quick that he falls backwards into his friends. As they’re reacting and regaining their bearings, Lucas doubles back to Riley and starts to drag her out of there.

Lucas: Come on. Come on!

Riley tears her gaze away from the carnage, taking his hands and holding on for dear life as he shoves his way through the crowd.

INT. BABINEAUX HOME - ZAY’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Zay and Charlie have evidently been making bold moves of their own. The untidy quality of the bed sheets is enough of an indication, although Charlie is in the process of fixing them for the sake of fixing something. He might want to start with his hair, which is equally messy, but that seems to be far from his mind. He’s fidgety, looking caught between guilt and discomfort as he restlessly makes the bed.

Zay returns from the hall, having just done some tidying up himself and pulling on a sweatshirt. He tells Charlie not to worry about it, in much lighter spirits than his boyfriend. Charlie can hardly look at him, swiveling away once his distraction of nitpicking has been taken away.

Sensing that something might be up but not wanting to jinx things, Zay searches for upbeat ways to break the silence. He’s rambling, almost, scrambling for anything to say that will make the oddly serious air between them disappear.

Charlie, suddenly: This wasn’t good.

Zay: … well, I don’t know if I would say that. Sure wasn’t perfect, but uh, you know, I don’t think it’s necessarily supposed to be. First time. [ a beat ] Like a lot of things, I think it just takes practice --

Charlie: No, no, not that. It was… fine. I mean, it was okay. I don’t -- it wasn’t good that we did this. That I did this.

It grows quiet. Zay chews the inside of his cheek, obviously trying to grapple with the unpleasant turn this is taking. He isn’t sure what to say.

Zay: If you mean… if this is about the “Heavenly Father,” or whatever --

Charlie: No, it’s not that either. It’s just… I just think that… [ exhaling ] I don’t think I did this for the right reasons.

Zay frowns. Doing what they decided to do tonight is already an overly emotional endeavor, and that’s heightening the way they’re reacting to one another. But he knows he doesn’t want the conversation to go where it’s going.

Zay, quietly: … you said it was okay. I asked you like, a thousand times, because I wanted it to be okay --

Charlie: I know. And when I said it --

Zay: I didn’t even know if -- I wasn’t sure either, you know? [ quicker ] I didn’t know if I was ready either but I figured if you were, if you seemed so sure, then --

Charlie: It’s not that I… it didn’t have anything to do with you.

Zay: Then why? Why would you do it if it wasn’t about you and me?

Charlie grimaces, running his hands through his hair. He snaps out a response, explaining what his mom said at the dinner table about sin and this backwards way of thinking about Farkle, and he can’t stop thinking about Farkle in general, and how life is so fucking short and abrupt and holds all these choices that he has no control over. So he just… he just wanted to do something. He wanted to choose to do something and have control over it and feel like it was okay.

Zay, stammering: And you didn’t think -- you didn’t think to tell me about that?

Charlie: I don’t know! [ voice cracking ] I just knew that I wanted to be with you, and I wanted to feel something, and have control over something, and not have my mom’s voice in my head confirming that empathy means nothing if the Lord doesn’t agree and how I can never fucking tell her about this --

Zay, exasperated: Are you ever going to tell anybody?

That’s enough to stop Charlie dead in his tracks. Zay is looking at him, vulnerable and worked up, and Charlie wants to be able to tell him what he wants to hear. Even in the midst of how confusing and overwhelming it all is, he wants to be able to give him that reassurance.

Instead, he hesitates. He hesitates just a second too long.

Zay’s lip trembles, expression shifting as he attempts to keep it together. He shakes his head, turning away from him and letting out a shaky breath.

Charlie: Zay, I’m not saying that… like I said, this doesn’t have anything to do with you.

Zay: It should. This is one of the things that should.

Charlie: I didn’t mean to --

Zay: You know that I don’t… I would never expect you to… but we’re supposed to be doing this as a team. We’re supposed to be together on this.

Charlie, tearing up: We are --

Zay: And it’s supposed to be leading towards something! If we care about each other and this means something it’s supposed to be moving towards a future -- you even said just last week that…

He can’t get his thoughts together. He can’t wrap his head around how spectacularly this has spun out, how he feels closer to him than ever but also betrayed and confused and a cocktail of every other emotion they’ve made each other feel in the last eight months.

Zay: What are we even doing?

Charlie shakes his head, stepping forward and taking Zay’s arm.

Charlie: We are -- Zay, listen to me. Listen. [ choked up ] Zay, I --

Zay: What?

Zay whips around to face him, meeting his gaze. Not letting him hide, waiting for him to say what he hasn’t been able to say.

Zay, softer: … what do you want to say to me, Charlie?

Charlie stares at him, glossy-eyed. Mouth parted open, the words on the tip of his tongue -- what he feels so strongly it’s consumed him inside and out.

But he can’t say it. He can’t put it into words the way Zay needs to hear.

Zay nods, not surprised. He gently pulls his arm from his grasp, turning away from him and wiping at his eyes. Charlie stands frozen, unable to move.

Zay: [ almost inaudible ] I think you should go.

Charlie, tearfully: Zay --

Zay: Please. [ a beat ] Just go.

Charlie waits a moment longer, hoping things will go back to before. Hoping somehow everything will go right side up again, that they’ll be the same… but it doesn’t. It won’t. He swallows back his tears and robotically gathers his things, glancing over his shoulder at Zay one more time before he disappears from the room.

Zay grits his teeth until he hears the front door close. Then he lets out a broken exhale, collapsing onto the bed and hiding his head in his hands.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Secret Love Song, Pt. II” as performed by Little Mix || Performed by Zay Babineaux

Delicately singing the opening notes of this coveted Little Mix ballad, Zay works his way into what is his most heart-wrenching and emotional performance to date. There’s no choreography or extravagance to distract from the killer vocals, just raw emotion and impressive pipes.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - NIGHT

His performance follows the same pattern as the others, splitting its time between his grounded location and the imaginary AAA stage.

INT. BABINEAUX HOME - ZAY’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Zay rounds out the piece by approaching his window, looking out and seeing Charlie in his car. He’s clearly crying, mirroring Zay’s own tears, but right now there’s too much distance between them. Too much weight from hasty decisions that they can’t take back or redo.

He pulls it together and drives away, Zay watching him go. Then he slides back down against the wall, leaning his head against the window sill.

INT. BLUE’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

There’s a knock at the door, BLUE NGUYEN jogging in from the bedroom to answer. He looks through the peephole and then pulls open the door, a windswept and tired Isadora standing there with her bags on the doorstep.

Neither of them say anything. Blue steps back and lets her into the apartment without hesitation, gently shutting the door behind them.

INT. ASHER’S CAR - NIGHT

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Love Like This (Acoustic)” as performed by Kodaline || Instrumental

Lucas has parked a ways away from the party in a mostly empty parking lot. The music plays softly over the radio, set to one of Asher’s usual stations, but otherwise it’s quiet.

They aren’t looking at one another. Lucas is chewing on his thumbnail, keeping his gaze trained out the window. Riley is making herself as small as possible after the evening she’s had, hugging herself and slouched low in the passenger seat.

After a long moment, Lucas lets out a sigh.

Lucas: What the hell were you thinking?

Oop. Wrong thing to say. Riley looks at him, staring in disbelief.

Riley: What was I thinking? [ a beat, louder ] What was I thinking? You’ve got to be kidding me!

Valid reaction. Lucas cringes as Riley lays into him, straightening up and reminding him of all the stupid choices he’s been making in the last few months. The terrible attitude. The stealing. The shutting down and shutting out of people who actually care about him, who have done nothing but try and help him and he’s given back bullshit.

Riley: So you have the nerve to ask me what I was thinking? No. Sorry. I know this was dumb, and I know I shouldn’t have done it, and I had to pay for it. But I am not going to take a lecture from you!

[ There’s a long silence. Riley huffs, slouching back against the seat and crossing her arms tighter across her chest. ]

Lucas: … you’re right.

Riley: And I think -- [ realizing what he said ] What?

Lucas, defeated: You’re right. I’m stupid. I’ve been… I’ve been fucking up non-stop basically since summer. [ a beat ] Most of my life, if we’re being honest, but… whatever. That’s not the point.

Lucas goes on to repeat that she’s right, and he knows he’s fucked everything up. Now all there’s left to do is deal with it, regardless of how much he wishes he could keep running from it. Riley examines him for a long moment.

Riley: Well, if tonight demonstrated anything, I think it’s safe to say that running sort of creates more problems than it fixes.

Hard lesson to learn, but it seems they’ve both made it there eventually. They absorb the sentiment for a moment before Lucas speaks again, asking what he actually cares about. He looks at her, speaking more gently.

Lucas: Are you okay?

Riley, exhaling: [ after a long silence ] No. I’m not.

[ Lucas frowns. It looks like he wants to do something, but clearly has no idea what or how anything he might say or do could be remotely helpful. ]

Riley: But I will be. [ with a scoff ] Someone has to be.

Sad, but true. And it’s the mentality she will survive by, so she’s not letting it go quite yet. Lucas nods, shifting his gaze back out the dashboard window.

This gives her the chance to look at him again. She takes him in, finding the words she wants to say.

Riley: Thank you for coming. When I called. You didn’t have to --

Lucas, without hesitation: Of course I did.

He shifts his intense expression back to her, immediately softening when they lock eyes. It’s the first time they’ve really looked at one another all night -- it’s the first time they’ve really looked at one another in what feels like too long --and as soon as they do it’s difficult to look away. A million and one feelings floating between them, left unspoken.

Lucas manages to look away. He focuses on the car, remembering everything waiting for him back at the precinct. He murmurs about getting Riley home and turns on the engine, reaching for the gear shift.

Riley meets him there, touching his hand and keeping him from putting the car in drive. Lucas freezes and glances down at their hands, then at her, uncertain.

She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t even look at him, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. Keeping her hand on top of his, finding warmth and comfort in it even in the midst of so much chaos and darkness.

Lucas lets his gaze drift back to their hands. He hesitates… then flips his hand over and links their fingers together. Holding her securely, confirming the notion that she’s not alone.

The two of them sit there in silence a while longer, fingers intertwined and thoughts left unsaid.

INT. BAR - NIGHT

A refreshing change of pace, the rustic-style bar is bustling and lively with adults enjoying their Friday evening. Harper and Shawn are two of those responsible adults, clinking their shot glasses together before downing another at their high table. Shawn nearly chokes on his and Harper cracks up, signaling that both of them might already be a bit tipsy.

Shawn: You can hold your liquor, Burgess. [ coughing ] I’ll give ya that.

Harper: [ with a shrug ] I went to Triple A.

Shawn: Touche.

Harper smirks, picking at their shared nacho platter. There’s a beat of silence between them, then Shawn opts to speak.

Shawn: You’re right about a lot of things, I’ll give you that too. Mostly about me.

Harper, cringing: Well, I don’t know if --

Shawn: No, no, don’t diminish yourself on my account. Stuff you said to me… [ taking a sip of his beer ] Spot on, basically. Except the neckbeard comment. I will argue that.

Harper lets out a laugh, somewhere between amused and nervous. Shawn grows more serious, waiting for her to make eye contact with him.

Shawn: Truth is, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. Never have. I got this job because my brother did me a favor, chance to get my life back on track, and I figured okay, sweet. I’ll get upright, find a better alternative, and blow this joint.

Harper: But…

Shawn: But those kids, man. They’re devious. They get in your head, and it’s like, suddenly you care about them. Suddenly you care more about their well-being than your own, and you can’t just walk away from that. [ a beat ] So I’m still here, but that doesn’t mean I know jackshit. Certainly not anymore than you do, even though I sure felt the need to make it seem like I did. [ a beat, sincerely ] And I’m sorry about that. You got thrown in the deep end, and I didn’t throw you a life preserver. That’s on me. And I’m even more sorry it took something like… all this to snap me out of it.

Harper absorbs this, trying to determine whether or not it’s genuine. Then she nods, taking a sip of her own drink.

Shawn: But I’ll tell you this, something else you should know about me. When I turn over a leaf, I turn it over. I’m telling you I’m on your side now, and you better believe it. [ raising his bottle in cheers ] We’re in the underworld, Burgess, but we’ll navigate together. Sound cool?

There’s a moment of contemplation. Then Harper manages a smile, clinking her glass against his. As their drinks meet --

EXT. NYPD PRECINCT - NIGHT

Asher’s car door slams, Lucas walking sheepishly from the parking lot to where Asher is waiting for him on the curb. He’s got his hands stuffed in his pockets, glaring at Lucas and shuffling restlessly from foot to foot. There are clearly things both of them want to say, but it’s gotten harder to speak now that they’re in front of one another again.

Lucas: Where’s Dylan?

Asher, shortly: His dad came to pick him up.

Brisk conversation. Lucas has made it to join him on the curb. He tentatively holds out his keys -- Asher snatches them from him, stepping off the curb without comment. Then he thinks better of it, whipping back around and approaching Lucas again. When he speaks, his voice is strained with anger, but also trembling.

Asher, fiercely: The next time you want to ruin your life, you can leave Dylan out of it!

Lucas attempts to cover for himself, to offer some sort of explanation that makes all of this better, but he can’t. There’s nothing he can say, and there’s no way to make this better. Asher clenches his teeth, eyes glossing over as he shakes his head at everything Lucas starts to say.

Asher: Look, you can do whatever you want, Lucas. You were right the whole time -- it doesn’t matter. Not to you.

Lucas: That’s not true.

Asher: You can do what you want, but I can’t do it anymore. I can’t. I’m done.

Asher turns to go, starting to head into the parking lot. Lucas steps down off the curb after him.

Lucas, panicked: Asher --

Asher: Don’t!

Both of them freeze. Lucas pauses and then steps back, respecting his wishes. Asher hesitates for one last second, almost turning around… and then he marches towards his car.

Lucas watches him go, looking more regretful than we’ve ever seen him. That is, until he turns back towards the precinct and sees Jack impatiently waiting for him by the front counter, looking absolutely livid.

INT. ASHER’S CAR - NIGHT

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Younger” as performed by Ruel || Performed by Asher Garcia

The instrumental starts just as Asher shuts the car door, taking a moment to absorb what the hell just happened. He lets out a sigh and falls back against the driver’s seat, pressing his palms to his eyes and trying to keep from crying.

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - FLASHBACK - NIGHT

Asher’s performance takes on a slightly different structure than the rest, still split between the real world as he drives home and the AAA stage, but also this blast from the past. It’s essentially a fabrication of the origins of Lucas and Asher’s friendship, the two of them sneaking out late at night in freshman year to go wander around and talk. From the way they both grin and crack up as they go, despite being cast in shadow, it’s a stronger advocate for their relationship than anything we’ve seen as of late.

The things that Asher is so deeply holding onto, wishing things were that simple again.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - NIGHT

But as mentioned, he takes the stage too, and the emotion of the rendition makes it near masterful. The performers in the A class might be chilled to know there’s some serious talent hidden in the depths of the techie crew, and Asher is perhaps the most prominent example.

INT. GARCIA HOME - ASHER’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Asher makes it back to his bedroom as the song hits the bridge, clearly exhausted. He slips off his shoes and shrugs off his jacket, going to organize his things off his desk but getting caught on looking at his bulletin board again.

Carefully, he pulls another photo from the second layer of pinned items -- a picture of him and Lucas from freshman year. It’s difficult to look at, painful to acknowledge how much he feels like has changed. As he sings the lyrics “but we’re out of time,” he folds the picture in his fingers, like he’s crumpling it for good.

EXT. NEW YORK STREETS - FLASHBACK - NIGHT

The memory of Lucas and Asher have made it to Central Park, on the Gapstow bridge. Both of them are looking out over the edge, Lucas no longer looking at Asher.

Asher takes a moment to look at him -- really examine him, trying to figure him out. Wondering if the time they’re spending together is worth it, or if he’s wasting his energy on someone who will never return the favor.

Only this time, he doesn’t just stand there until Lucas is ready to move. As the song builds to the final chorus, memory Asher turns and hesitates one last moment… before walking away. Heading in the opposite direction, leaving Lucas behind him.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - NIGHT

Which launches him right into the last chorus, delivering the powerful vocals with resounding emotional force. It’s obvious how difficult this is, how much it hurts, how badly he wishes this wasn’t how things were.

So I can't call you my brother, the way that we used to When we were younger, younger...

Asher finishes out the performance with a flourish, nearly stumbling as he backs out of the spotlight. He’s tear-stained, flushed, running a hand through his hair and honestly disoriented as he tries to figure out what he’s supposed to do next.

Then he exits the stage, leaving it empty and cold.

INT. BLUE’S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Isadora is in the living room, set up on the couch to crash for a few days. Blue comes in ready for bed, asking if there’s anything else he can get for her before he calls it a night. She assures him that it’s all good, and makes a point of thanking him for letting her stay. He tells her any time.

But it’s clear Isadora will not be finding rest any time soon. She scrolls through her phone, hesitating on the brink of a decision. Then she sits up, hitting call on her phone.

After a moment, VALERIE DE LA CRUZ picks up on the other end. She asks what’s up, and there’s a second where Isadora pauses. Then she starts to tell her everything, starting with Farkle and spiraling down into everything that’s happened since.

Actually opting to let her mother in, in spite of how unfamiliar the practice feels.

EXT. NYPD PRECINCT - NIGHT

Jack and Lucas exit the precinct, the former leading the charge and digging his keys from his pocket. Lucas lags behind, not wanting to have to go home but also not sure he wants to face Jack’s disappointment. It’s harsher than usual because it’s quiet. He’s not reprimanding him, he’s not yelling. It’s just… nothing.

Lucas: Aren’t you going to say anything?

Jack: I don’t think you want to hear what I want to say to you right now.

Lucas stops in the middle of the parking lot, not following him anymore. Jack realizes he’s no longer behind him, spinning and finding him waiting. Looking at him, expression blank, not defensive or waspish or bitter. Just waiting.

Jack sighs, holding his arms out.

Jack: Okay, you want to hear it? I don’t want to say anything because I don’t think it’s worth the effort.

Lucas, quietly: … not worth the effort.

Jack: Yes. Because there’s nothing I could say that I haven’t already said to you before. Don’t do this, don’t do that, think. Think. Think! But you never do. You never listen, and we always end up back in this spot, starting over again.

Lucas: … I didn’t mean for...

Jack: [ growing frustrated ] I can’t keep doing it, Lucas! I can’t keep sticking my neck out for you and trying to help only for you to take advantage of it at every turn. You can’t help somebody who doesn’t want to be helped. So I’m not wasting my breath anymore. [ a beat ] Now get in the car so I can take you home.

Jack doesn’t wait for him to respond. He walks over to his car and unlocks it, keeping true to his word and not wasting anymore energy than necessary.

Lucas stands there for a moment, absorbing the full consequences of his actions. It’s like it’s all collapsing on him at once, domino after domino falling over until there’s nothing left. He’s caught in the red glow of Jack’s tail lights, a tear spilling over and sliding down his cheek.

He wipes at it hastily, sniffling and then shuffling his way over to the car. He climbs into the passenger seat without a word.

INT. HOSPITAL - LOBBY - NIGHT

Maya is still dressed in her graffiti garb, removing her knit cap and twisting it in her hands. She seems a bit lost as she tries to figure out where she’s going, the nurse at the front desk asking if there’s something she can help her with. She assures her she’s fine, and when she informs her that visiting hours are done for the evening, she explains she’s just here to pick up her sister from visiting their father.

She makes up a room number and sends the nurse on a wild goose chase, waiting until she’s out of sight to head down the opposite hallway and exploring for herself.

INT. HOSPITAL - HALLWAY - NIGHT

Maya makes her way along, reading spare paperwork and files as she goes to try and figure out where exactly she’s headed. Finally, she arrives at her destination, frozen in the doorway and unable to progress any further. The temporary nameplate on the door confirms she’s made it.

F. Minkus.

Maya peers around the door.

INT. HOSPITAL - FARKLE’S ROOM - NIGHT

And there is FARKLE MINKUS. Fatigued and hooked up to a dozen little wires but alive, seemingly snoozing in his hospital bed. A laptop and briefcase on the window seat indicates that he’s already got a visitor, but no one is around.

Maya stares at him for a long moment, until the sight of it becomes too much. She starts to turn away, making her escape --

Farkle: Maya?

She winces, not sure she actually heard him. She glances back over her shoulder, Farkle half-awake and blinking at her from across the room. He looks confused, but not upset to see her there. Maya deliberates before easing her way inside, taking the seat next to his bed.

Maya: … hi.

Farkle: What are you doing here? [ dazed ] Visiting hours are… except for family…

Maya: I just wanted -- I had to see you.

That said, it’s not necessarily for good reasons. Maya explains what Eric said, about all the emotions she might be feeling. And he’s right -- she is feeling all of that. She’s furious at him, furious that he would do this without even thinking about the rest of them. She’s mortified by the prospect of him not being there -- never being there again -- despite her statements that she’s better off without him. And because of that she’s confused, not sure whether she wants to forgive him or not but now all the things she was upset with him for originally feel trivial or stupid, which isn’t fair because he still did those things. And those things shouldn’t just get wiped clean because he tried to escape them permanently.

More than anything, though, she admits that she can’t believe he was going to leave without her. That he was just going to leave her behind in the most irreversible way possible, and she can’t even begin to wrap her head around that. She doesn’t want to exist in that world.

Maya: Everyone kept saying I needed to talk to someone. I had to talk to someone about you, about what happened. They kept saying that, but the only person who… the only person I could even fathom wanting to talk to was you.

That much, Farkle can understand. He’s clearly out of it, and it’s a wonder how much of this he’ll remember later, but it’s helping Maya to say it.

Maya: I just wanted to talk to you, but I don’t know if that’s what I wanted to say. I’m not sure what else to say. I’m still trying to… figure it out. I just hope that you -- I hope you realize --

She can’t articulate it. Farkle squints at her, trying to understand.

Maya: I don’t want this bullshit world if you’re not in it, Farkle. You got that? I’m not -- we’re not all dandy but -- it’s bullshit if it’s not with you.

Maya doesn’t offer the chance for clarifying questions. She rises from the seat and makes a hasty exit, disappearing before anyone can catch her or Farkle can ask something she doesn’t yet know the answer to.

INT. HOSPITAL - HALLWAY - NIGHT

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Nothing Stops Another Day” as performed by Ghost Original Cast || Performed by Maya Hart

As Maya winds her way through the halls of the hospital, she launches into what is essentially the thesis of the episode -- and in some ways the season. Darkness is going to eclipse the light sometimes, and there will always be bad in the world. But the world keeps going regardless, and she can either succumb to it and disappear, or keep marching onward in spite of it.

Because the world keeps turning, and I guess it always will I can choose to turn around or I can choose to just stand still Either way, nothing stops another day...

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - NIGHT

Of course, Maya delivers an equally stirring rendition while on the fictional AAA stage, completing the trend for performances of the evening. And, tellingly, this lyric rings particularly true as we come out of the frost of February and launch into the rest of our season:

Winter can’t hold back the spring, no matter how dark it may seem…

INT. MATTHEWS APARTMENT - MASTER BEDROOM - NIGHT

Maya climbs back through the bay window, Riley already seemingly in bed and asleep after the crazy night she’s had. As Maya makes her way to her bed, she stops when she sees the item that has been left on her comforter.

The photo from Farkle’s locker of the two of them. Obviously left there by Riley, figuring she might want it all things considered.

As Maya rounds out the performance, she steps up to her future moodboard and adheres the photo to it. Surrounded by everything else, but taking a definitive space.

INT. AAA - BLACK BOX THEATER - DAY

The A class has assembled again on Monday, having survived another tough week. But the ripple effect of everything that has happened peeks through in subtle ways, like Maya nowhere near as glamorous and put together as usual and letting that vulnerability show. Isadora is next to her, equally as tired but still marching on. Asher is sitting closer to Dylan, their hands linked in his lap. Zay and Charlie can’t look at each other. Lucas is nowhere to be found.

Harper takes the front of the classroom, Shawn settling back against the teacher desk in the back and crossing his arms. Harper starts by apologizing for her outburst late last week, then explains that the reason she’s sorry is not because she had one, but because she wasn’t being candid with all of them. The truth of the matter is, this is just as difficult for her as it is for them, and she’s also feeling conflicted, overwhelmed, reckless, unsure.

In the midst of her speech, she grows uncertain. She glances back towards Shawn, who gives her an encouraging nod. Having her back, as he said he would.

She clears her throat, getting back on track. Some of her former confidence back intact, she explains that it doesn’t do anybody any good for them to struggle through this alone, so they’re going to get through it together. The class seems into this, offering weak smiles and nods. Dave gives an endorsing thumbs up.

Song Cue ♫ ♪ “Smile” as performed by Glee Cast || Performed by AAA Juniors

Harper gestures Riley up to stand with her, allowing her to take the reins and explain her idea of how to honor Farkle. As the soft guitar strums float in…

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

The junior A class keeps it painstakingly simple for this performance, in their regular clothes and seated along the edge of the stage. Dylan and Dave play their guitars, Riley taking the gentle opening verse and then allowing the vocals to pass amongst their classmates. The divas abstain from solos, instead giving Yindra, Clarissa, Darby, and Yogi the chance to shine.

INT. AAA - HALLWAY - DAY

While this unfolds, Riley leads her classmates in the decoration of Farkle’s locker. They’re adorning it with photographs, letters, flowers and warm wishes and small things for him to find when he finally returns to school. Each of them are taking the matter seriously, but also finding joy in the task. Lots of exchanged timid smiles, a couple of nervous laughs.

The reason Lucas is not in class is because he’s playing guard dog, set up on the floor next to Farkle’s locker and keeping people from stepping on the display or being careless around it. Putting his protectiveness and delinquency to good use. No one tries to stop him.

INT. AAA - AUDITORIUM - DAY

A fair majority of the A class have shed tears in the process of the performance, but somehow it’s a good thing. Relieving, a sense of catharsis, all of them sharing in the emotion together rather than attempting to fumble with it on their own. Riley reaches out and takes Maya’s hand -- Isadora squeezes Dylan’s shoulder.

It’s nice to hear their voices in harmony again, singing about looking towards the future with optimism rather than dread. It’s not going to be easy, and there’s much to rebuild, but Maya’s earlier sentiment is right -- winter can’t hold back the spring, no matter how dark it may seem.

INT. HOSPITAL - FARKLE’S ROOM - DAY

Their assembled voices float over our last shot of Farkle, asleep in his hospital bed but in recovery. Completely unaware of the impact he’s had, how grateful people are that he’s still there. STUART MINKUS is there with him, having fallen asleep in the chair by his bed and holding his son’s hand.

You’ll find that life is still worthwhile, if you just smile…

END OF EPISODE.

IF ANY of the content in this episode has been triggering, please reach out and talk to somebody you trust and who can help you. The following links are resources including hotlines, prevention organizations, and international numbers.

Suicide Prevention: https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/

List of Suicide Hotlines: https://ibpf.org/resource/list-international-suicide-hotlines https://suicidestop.com/call_a_hotline.html

[staytheb]

Because I Can

Pairing: NCT’s Yuta x OC [Genevy] Genre: slice of life, slight fluff Word Count: 3,791 Summary: Genevy kinda wants to avoid Yuta, but he ain’t having it.

Warning: none, except a few swear words... not sure really

hello! so this has been in one of my drafts for a long story, but i can’t really seem to write that story and just took this piece out of it and sharing it as a one-shot. as for the title, i didn’t know what to title it as and just took it from somewhere in the story as i found it fitting or something like that. anyways, this is more of a distraction to keep my mind occupy as i really don’t wanna write something new, but then again wanting to share something at least. the new year isn’t starting out as nicely as i want it to be and hope this would help relieve my mental stress from work and what not. anyways, this was partly inspired by a scene from the Chinese drama I Hear You and i really liked it a lot for some odd reason xD but anyways, Yuta fit and so here it is. so yeah, happy reading and kthxbai, Admin Lia~

Genevy attended her friend, Skyler's, get-together after much persuasion from their other friends. She just didn't expect to see her co-worker, Yuta, there along with others whom were invited by Skyler. She didn't stay long and left as soon as possible. Genevy also didn't expect for Yuta to chase after her.

"Genevy!" Yuta called after her.

"Crap." Genevy muttered to herself as she picked up her pace. "I swear Skyler is always trying to play matchmaker."

The get-together happened to be at a karaoke bar and instead of a girls' night out, it was more like a group date with Skyler as hostess. She had also invited a few of her male friends from her masquerade themed birthday party a few weeks ago that Genevy had attended. During that time, Genevy somehow made an impression on Yuta when the two had been chosen to do some waltz thanks to Skyler. Still though, Genevy had no idea that Skyler's friend Yuta was the same as her co-worker Yuta. It made things kinda awkward at work although Genevy was the only one that knew Yuta behind his mask, but he kinda didn't know about her.

"Genevy!" Yuta called out again.

Genevy hurried down the zig-zag of a hallway, passed the front desk, and out the doors into the cool night air. Without hesitation Genevy made a quick right and took off in that direction towards a 7-Eleven as she wanted to make a quick pit-stop before heading home. Anyways, Genevy assumed she was in the clear and slowed down her steps and let her guard down, but she suddenly felt a rough tug from behind due to someone pulling on the strap of her bag. It prevented her from taking another step forward and guard went back up. Genevy tentatively took a glance over her shoulder and saw that it was Yuta as he shot her a sweet smile.

"Hi." He greeted her brightly with a wave, but still kept a hold of the strap. "This is a really nice bag, especially of the Rilakkuma on it."

"Um, yeah thanks."

Genevy tried to tug her bag from out of his grip, but Yuta held onto the pink strap firmly.

"This looks awfully familiar from a few weeks ago."

"Right. I'm sure others have the same thing."

"Mmhmm." Yuta hummed, but continued to gaze sweetly at Genevy.

"So, why did you leave so early? You only sang once."

"Yeah, karaoke isn't my thing. That's more of Skyler and Katherine's thing. Esther, Jasmine, and Everly convinced me to come."

"Oh, so you didn't want to come in the first place?"

"Well, not really. It was supposed to be a girls' night out, but Skyler just had to do whatever it is that she always does."

Genevy answered as she tried again to get her bag out of Yuta's grip, but she failed again.

"Is there a reason why you're keeping me here and not letting me go?"

Yuta smiled with a nod.

"Yeah."

"Which is?"

Yuta fingered the pink strap with a playful smile upon his face. Genevy had a feeling that what happened at Skyler's masquerade birthday party was gonna come up.

"Shall we dance?"

At first Genevy was confused until it clicked that Yuta was referencing to the song that they had danced to at Skyler's party. Now she really wanted to escape.

"I, um, yeah, no."

She twirled around to jerk her bag from out of Yuta's grasp, but in the process she had misstep breaking one of her low heels. While trying to correct her steps she ended up stumbling backwards and landed on her butt. Yuta watched all of this go down with a shocked yet amused expression. He suppressed a laugh while turning his head the other way so that she wouldn't notice him laughing at her misfortune as she stood back up. He didn't mean to, but he had to admit that it was kinda funny in its own way.

Anyways, Genevy let out an inaudible sound upon realizing her situation in the middle of Hongdae's streets during the night time and with her co-worker. She let out a deep sigh while picking up the broken piece of the heel with her left hand. She knew she shouldn't have listened to Skyler and the other girls in wearing the heels. It really wasn't her thing, but she assumed it was all for a fun night out that it was okay to just deal with it. Now she had to deal with Yuta and a broken heel. She avoided looking at Yuta feeling even more embarrassed about it all and turned away to walk off. Yuta noticed and called out to her once again.

"Hey, Genevy, wait up."

He ran to catch up to her and moved to block her path with a charming smile. Genevy just stare at him before casting him a suspicious look when he turned around with his back facing her, squatted down, and held out his hands in a way for her to get on his back while glancing over his shoulder at her with a warm smile.

"Um, what are you doing?"

She questioned him while he answered her with an obvious tone.

"Giving you a piggyback ride."

"Why?"

"Because you can't walk around like that."

"I'm fine, Yuta. I just need to get to a shoe store and buy new ones."

"I'll take you there by carrying you then."

"Uh, no thanks."

She awkwardly walked around him due to the unevenness of the heels and continued to her previous destination like nothing was wrong. Yuta once again blocked her path and offered his back towards her once more. Genevy ignored his offered once more by walking pass him again. Just as she thought that he had gotten the hint that she wasn't interested she suddenly felt a hand wrap around her forearm and swung her around to come face to face with a not amused Yuta.

Just as she was about to say something she caught the smirk that immediately appeared upon his face before he crouched down and lifted up her left foot to quickly remove the broken heel shoe from it. After doing so, Yuta stood up right again and casually tossed the damaged heel into a nearby trashcan. His attention returned to Genevy with a satisfied grin gracing his lips. Genevy's jaws dropped at what he did as she was unable to form any words to say anything.

"Okay, now you're left with no choice, but to accept my piggyback ride." Yuta informed her as he sat on his heels with his back offered to her once again.

Genevy pushed him away from her.

"No way. You took my shoe and just threw it away without my permission."

"I'll buy you a new pair."

"There's no reason for you to buy me a new pair."

Yuta let out an annoyed sigh as he swiftly turned around and lifted up her right foot to remove the regular heel from there as well. He stood back up and once again tossed it into the same trashcan like he did the other half. Yuta cast her a a smug smile as Genevy stared at him with her jaw slightly dropped.

"Now there's a reason for me to buy you a new one."

"I can't believe you just did that."

Genevy tossed the broken heel piece at him out of frustration which didn't phase Yuta at all as the small item fell to the concrete floor.

"Why would you even do something like that?"

"Because I can. Now," He gazed at her with a mischievous smirk, "Do you want a piggyback ride or should I carry you bridal style? Your call."

~~~~~~~

"Could, you, like, change, the, way, your, hands, are, placed, around, my, neck?"

Yuta struggled in-between breaths due to the way Genevy's grip was around his neck as she relented in the male to give her a piggyback ride instead of being held bridal style. Also, she didn't want to be too close and opted for a weird position leaving her to unintentionally choke the male as he carried her on his back. Genevy re-positioned herself so that she was slightly leaning forward with her arms draped over his shoulders instead of her hands around his neck. Yuta craned his neck from side to side now that he could breathed properly. His ears perked up when he heard singing coming from his left side.

~Actually, I just want a moment beyond the future, I feel so lonely when I'm dying to see you~

Although having heard Yuta suggest the new position, Genevy was still lost in her own thoughts not really caring about her current situation. To distract herself from being in this situation in the first place and this close to Yuta, she had unconsciously sang out loud her favorite part to the song of Flower's Crimson Dress that's been stuck in her head for a month or so now since it's release.

~Loneliness becomes more painful with a cold and chilling night life, my tears flow through my deep darkness~

She continued not realizing that Yuta could hear her, especially when he was able to actually understand the lyrics. At first he had thought Genevy was maybe trying to communicate with him in some sort of way of hers, but realized that she wasn't even focusing on him when he questioningly called out her name.

"Genevy?"

Genevy continued on with her singing as her eyes stared ahead of her without much focus.

~Actually, I would be with you at any time no matter what, I would like to hurt you while I'm crying alone~

Yuta stayed quiet after Genevy gave him no response. So he didn't bother mentioning to her that he could hear her actually singing. He didn't mind and quite like her voice since witnessing her vocal skills earlier that night. Also, Yuta was curious as to why Genevy was randomly singing in the first place and why was she singing a Japanese song, too.

~This way I will not be able to fall in love... I do not want an unsatisfied love, I just want to keep watching you wandering in the moonlight~

When he assumed that Genevy had finished singing and was going to compliment her, but held in a laugh when she suddenly changed into another song which was completely and totally different from the one she was singing earlier.

~See the light as it shines on the sea, it's blinding, but no one knows, how deep it goes~

Genevy suddenly switched to How Far I'll Go by Auli'i Cravalho out of the blue and she wasn't even sure how this song popped up, but she just went with it.

~And it seems like it's calling out to me, so come find me, and let me know, what's be~

Genevy abruptly stops wondering why she was even singing this song when she became aware of her own situation.

"Why am I'm singing this?" She muttered to herself before coming back to her senses upon hearing Yuta laughing loudly.

"I wasn't singing out loud, was I?"

"I think you should sing out loud more often." Yuta answered nonchalantly.

"It was a simple yes or no question, Yuta."

"Wasn't my answer obvious enough, Genevy."

"Do you want me to choke you again?"

"Ohh, kinky." Yuta teased in a playful tone. "But I would prefer to be the one to do the choking."

Genevy ended up tightening her grip around the male's neck to choke him upon being flustered upon hearing his response.

"Why would you say something like that when we're not even that close or in that type of relationship?"

Yuta stopped walking while stretching his neck to ease Genevy's grip from around it.

"I. Can't. Breathe."

His voice strained out due to the lack of oxygen. Genevy reluctantly eased her hold from around his neck. Yuta inhaled and exhaled loudly. Genevy rolled her eyes as she pushed his shoulders out of restlessness.

"Okay, you can just set me down here. I'll just walk barefoot on my own."

Once Yuta recovered he glanced over his shoulder and up at Genevy with a puzzled expression.

"Now why would I wanna go and do that?"

"Because I said so."

"And I say no."

"Why are you being so weird and difficult? You never act like this with me at work."

"Because I can." He answered and left it at that.

Yuta continued walking like nothing had happened with Genevy still upon his back. She almost gave him another choke-hold out being annoyed with his behavior which frustrated her, but refrain from doing so not wanting to be an actual murderer. She let out a controlled breath before speaking in a calmer manner.

"Fine. Once I buy me new shoes we can part and not see each other for the rest of the night."

~~~~~~~

"We just passed the seven-eleven. Where are you taking me?" Genevy asked Yuta while staring behind her at the place she had originally wanted to go to before the encounter with the said boy.

"Um, obviously to a shoe store." Yuta stated with a pointed tone. "Why would I take you to a seven-eleven?"

"Because that's where I wanted to go to in the first place."

"And how was I supposed to know that?"

"You weren't." Genevy clarified, but then wanted to remind him of their current situation. "You weren't even supposed to be with me right now."

Yuta chuckled.

"Well, too bad. I'm already here."

"Well, yeah if you didn't come chasing me for some reason."

"I didn't chase you."

"I'm pretty sure you were."

Yuta didn't say anything and Genevy took his silence as a means of a confirmation of defeat. She smiled although she was getting tired of her situation, especially when people were staring. Some awed like they were a couple while others gave disapproving looks. She didn't care either way, but it was the fact that Yuta wouldn't just let her walk on her own even if he was the cause of it in the first place.

"Look, Yuta, just take me to the Hongik University Station and I'll just go home from there. I'm not gonna buy new shoes. I'm tired and want to sleep."

She then unconsciously massaged his shoulders.

"And I'm sure your back and legs are aching from carrying me, too."

"You're right. You are pretty heavy." Yuta teased as a laugh followed after.

Genevy rolled her eyes as she stopped massaging his shoulders and softly punched-tapped them instead.

"I didn't make you carry me you asshole. That's all on you."

"Ah. Ah. Ah."

Yuta winced as he tried to shy away, but that barely did anything. Genevy stopped her antics and just slumped against Yuta's back in defeat. She let out a sigh as she rested her head against the back of his and watched the night time scenery pass her by. Totally zoning out, Genevy didn't notice Yuta walking up to a Starbucks and led them inside. It wasn't until she heard the scraping sound of a chair being pulled against a surface that she realized they were inside and not outside.

Before she could ask him what they were doing here, Yuta had gently set her down on the chair and walked off to the counter with a casual glance behind him before shifting it forward again. Feeling a bit self-conscious that she wasn't wearing any footwear and knew that her feet were gonna get cold, Genevy eventually sat cross-legged on her chair to hide that fact while clutching the strap of her Rilakkuma bag. Genevy also sat facing away from the counter, away from Yuta's back, and focused her attention to the wall she was looking at now. It wasn't that interesting.

Genevy wasn't sure if she should just ditch Yuta here and make a run for it to head on home on her own even if she had to do it barefooted. Then again she didn't want to be like that since so far their interactions has been kinda okay although weird as well. Genevy just wasn't sure how to react around him knowing that she knew more than he actually did of the night at Skyler's party. So instead of escaping she folded her forearms across one another and rested her head against them. Today's been too eventful and she just wanted to crawl into bed and just let it all fade away until she would have to face Yuta again at work tomorrow.

Her head jerked up a few minutes later when she felt something cold brush against her arm. Yuta let out a soft laugh at her reaction and Genevy scowled at him too tired to respond to his little antic. The scowl became one of puzzlement when Yuta set the drink he had used to wake her in front of her and took the seat across from her with his own drink in hand. He quirked a brow at her while taking a sip of his own drink to indicate for her to take the offered drink.

She averted her gaze awkwardly and stared at the drink cautiously before tentatively taking it in-between her hands. Genevy played with the item as she batted it left and right within her grasp while biting her bottom inner cheek. Luckily, it was closed, but still it was just to keep her hands busy and attention away from the male in front of her. She wondered what to do or say as her gaze unconsciously met the male's across from her like he was waiting for something to happen.

"Thanks." Genevy thanked him quickly before taking a sip of the drink, but made a face upon remembering that she really disliked the taste of anything coffee-related.

She really just wanted something to drink and to distract herself from Yuta sitting across from her, but didn't think her taste-buds would disagree with her about that. Yuta was about to brush off her gratitude, but noticed the facial expression she had made after taking a sip of the iced americano.

"Do you not like it?"

"No, it's fine."

Genevy feigned a smile as she took another sip, but her face betrayed her a second later when she struggled to swallow down the bitter liquid.

"Hey, Genevy, if you don-"

"No, no. It's okay, Yuta." Genevy interrupted him while reassuring that it was alright. "You already paid for it so thank you."

Before Yuta could even counter her words he just watched in amazement as Genevy had just finished the drink in a matter of seconds. Genevy had sucked the whole thing in her third attempt of drinking the iced americano. Genevy tried to control her expression, but the taste really prevented her from staying neutral as much as possible. She knew she hated this kind of taste, but she didn't want to make Yuta feel bad or have the item go to waste. She then opened the lid from the cup and put the rim of the cup to her mouth as to pour an ice cube into her mouth to rid of the coffee taste from her tongue.

"You didn't have to drink it if you don't like it." Yuta informed her after taking a sip of his own. "I could have bought you something else of your own liking."

"You don't have to buy me anything, Yuta. Really." Genevy said as she swish the ice cube from one side of her cheek to the other before casting him a thankful smile. "But thank you for the thoughtfulness though."

After saying that Genevy tilted her head in confusion upon seeing Yuta turn away with a soft giggle before gazing back at her and winked. He then averted eye-contact and she wasn't sure what to make of it. At first Genevy was gonna comment on it, but refrain from doing so. The less she knew, the better.

"Anyways," Yuta began trying to make conversation, "How long are you gonna hide the fact that you were the one I danced with at Skyler's masquerade party?"

Genevy stopped playing with the cup and stared at Yuta in surprised.

"Wait. When did you find out?"

"I'm not dumb."

"I didn't say you were, but you never said anything until now. Why?"

"I recognized your pink bag." Yuta admitted.

Genevy gazed at the pink item and inwardly groaned at the sight of it. She had forgotten that she wore the item that night at Skyler's party and again tonight. Genevy now recalled that she had also brought the small bag to work a few times over the years as well.

"Okay, so now you know. So what now?"

"Let's go to Seoul Land tomorrow after work."

Genevy gave him a hard look as Yuta stared right back at her, but with a gentler expression.

"Are you asking me out on a date?"

"I am."

"We're co-workers so we can't date because everyone at work would know."

"Well, us dating doesn't concern any one else, but you and I. So why does it matter if they know or not?"

"Yeah, but you always like messing with me at work."

"But have I ever made you feel badly about yourself or even talked down to you when I've messed with you."

"No.You're actually quite supportive and encouraging when you do it." Genevy answered honestly. "But how come you don't do it to the other girls at work?"

"Because I don't like them like I like you."

"Is that a confession?"

"Genevy," Yuta reached out a hand and placed it atop hers, "I may act like a bad boy, but I'm no jerk."

"I don't think that answered my question."

"Yes, it's a confession. Now, are we gonna go to Seoul Land or not?"

"Um," Genevy stalled just to mess with him back as she was still feeling slightly flustered by this whole thing, "I'll think about it."

"If I carry you bridal style, then will you think faster?"

Yuta was about to make it look like he was about to do the action, but Genevy didn't want him to and quickly gave him his answer.

"Yes, Yuta. I'll go to Seoul Land with you after work tomorrow."

Yuta happily laughed as he squeezed her hand in an affectionate manner.

"Wow, Skyler was right. You do play hard to get."

Genevy was about to counter, but thought better of it.

"Whatever. One date, Yuta, and we shall see how it'll go."

Yuta just nodded with a satisfied smile as he took another sip of his drink before speaking.

"So, should I take you shoe shopping or to the subway station?"

[lizzybeth1986]

do you know any fics that deal with liam’s ptsd? and do you have any headcanons for how your mc deals with it?

O wow. That's a big one. The truth is I don't read a lot of fanfic now, and a lot of the TRR stories I did read didn't address it that much (though if anyone knows any Liam stories that do fit this description, please reblog or comment! I'd love to share those with this anon).

Trigger Warning: I can't place a cut on this, so I'd take this opportunity to warn you that there will be discussions of trauma, dealing with trauma, triggers, coping mechanisms, death and references to gun violence and assassination.

--

[[MORE]]

I've spoken more about it myself in meta than I have in fanfic (since most of my Liam x MC fic so far had been from Esther's PoV and in the early days of their romance. I also have more HCs about what Liam himself does to cope than of how the MC helps), but there was at least one opportunity I took to talk about it. In the Chardonnay chapter of That Old Grape Juice (four stories involving two ships that would have wine as a connecting thread), I try and touch upon it in this scene where Olivia kissed him (basically Liam and Olivia's entire section is set in the events of Book 1 Lythikos):

One of my main headcanons for Liam is that he's very hypervigilant in terms of protection and safety (which makes sense with Book 1 and to some extent Book 2 Liam but Book 3 throws a wrench into this...even though, to that book's credit, he is the first to think of self defense classes for his core group), and hates being taken completely by surprise. He hates not being prepared, and can get into defense-mode very very quickly.

- His natural body language tends to reflect this: while it's not always outwardly obvious, he tends to hold himself ramrod straight, tightly coiled, very alert, ready for anything. Letting loose isn't exactly a comfortable way to be for him. Which is why he can maybe do a decent backflip but dancing involves him needing to let go.

- I also see him as someone who deflects painful reminders or memories, or perhaps has partially blocked some of the more traumatic ones.

- For instance, I envision him (regardless of how TRH may write this) as having no actual memories of his mother's death or funeral - even if he wanted to he wouldn't be able to tell you what he saw or heard or felt at the time. I HC similarly for the first assassination attempt at least.

- What calms him: very largely reading and music. A lot of his knowledge of other places and monuments and things came from those years after the first attempt because those were the first books he got his hands on. He loves taking at least an hour to listen to classical music (which he has a preference for), and casually strumming his mother's guitar sometimes brings him comfort.

- In fact a lot of the things that make him safer and more comfortable in very stressful situations involve little things and traits that he picked up from his mother. He doesn't even realize this until it's pointed out to him.

- When experiencing triggers I imagine he withdraws. A lot. When he doesn't have the opportunity to completely withdraw, he chooses to behave normally in public but emotionally withdraw in private. Part of why Drake's presence at the time helped him after that first assassination attempt was that Drake understood this, and he also understood that forcing Liam to tackle it head-on before he was ready would only make things worse.

- It's very very very hard to get Liam to open up. He's a naturally charming man, he knows how to turn questions about himself on you in such a way that you forget what you wanted to ask in the first place. This is his way of balancing what he's been taught by his family (stoicism) with his innate tendency to make the other person feel welcomed and safe around him, which makes the opportunities for him to release some of that pain a whole lot less.

- This is one area where Esther is probably very similar to him in the way she deals with things. Her tendency for dealing with things, too, veers towards avoidance. So she initially accepts his way of dealing with things because in her experience it's always been the best way. That is, until all of that mess and confusion actually catches up with the both of them, and they end up dealing with an emotional crisis both personally and in their marriage. The timing is quite terrible too, because she is pregnant with their first child at that point. I think they decide together that they're ready, but it's a very difficult journey to that point.

I hope you liked reading my HCs on this! I'm still trying to figure out my thoughts on it, because my experience of trauma and stress management will be worlds apart from these experiences, so I'm still reading up and feeling my way around these HCs!

[technicallyoneofakind]

All In A Name

Author's Note:

So, I decided to do this while playing around in the post-game. Did you know you can have the characters in your party cycle through them calling to each other before battling an enemy for moments on end? I find it amusing. I especially like to switch between Swaine and Marcassin just to hear Marcassin call his brother by is original name.

This sparked the following one-shot, mostly because everyone else in the party calls him "Swaine".

Disclaimer: I wish I owned the rights to Ni No Kuni. I'd include cutscenes for things that don't get mentioned. I can't though.

~.~.~

It had been an argument all morning. The group was beginning to wonder if anything would get done that day as the two brothers volleyed between the two names of the oldest. They sat across from each other, gazes locked, bodies fixed like statues unless one or the other gestured to something.

The young wizard had tried to get the thief in their midst to drop the subject but was met with adamant glares from both sides of Hamelin royalty. It became clear that there was no end- they'd continue their campaigns until the other fell. The boy turned away, looking to Esther, Pea, and Drippy, a silent plea for back up.

Esther tried her hand, but the familiar tamer was met with even greater resistance- the older brother snapping at her to mind her own business. The fairy chimed in after her, reinforcing the attempt to quell the seemingly meaningless match between the two princes, that since they all shared a room- it was cheaper (Marcassin had always wanted to try staying in an inn)- it became their business the moment they started.

It was like moving the iron walls of Hamelin itself, getting them to quit. Pea finally made the suggestion of leaving them alone. Though was more along the lines of wanting to explore the mechanical city outside, but it served the same purpose. As they left the two to stew in their own vortex of sibling rivalry, Oliver asked if there was anything they wanted. They didn't answer, their argument still not going anywhere. He received a side glance from Swaine, a glance the boy had learned meant, "leave me alone" after too many times of going too far over his bounds.

The wizard was the last to leave. He paused at the door when he heard the older man warn him not to take side alleyways for Pea's safety. Oliver nodded, turning to see if they had moved, but the thief had gone back to scowling at his brother, picking up the bottle of Sage's Secret he'd been using as an example all morning to attempt to win his side of the argument. Even if they'd gone back to fussing over something the rest of them considered pointless, Oliver was thankful for his friend's concern for their safety exploring the vast city.

"And I say, 'Gascon'," the ruler abstinently replied to his brother. He refused to call him by that pseudonym he had come up with. What was wrong with his original name? No, he was always going to be "Gascon" to him. It didn't matter if his brother called himself "The King of the Hoggle-Boggles" he'd still call him by the name he was born with.

Swaine let a low growl escape him. He slammed the potion onto the bed for the hundredth time that day. Never mind the fact that the Empire's army would've been looking for him under that identity, he honestly couldn't understand why his brother stuck with calling him that old moniker. He hated it. He hated who he was then. He left it and the Empire behind to find his own identity. It was a reminder of all his failures as the possible heir to the throne. But his brother kept throwing it back at him.

"I told you, call me 'Swaine', from now on," he repeated for what felt like maybe eternity. It was like an endless loop, this farce. He finally threw his arms up in bewilderment, a change in countenance to the previous bitter and stagnant face off. "Why do you insist on calling me that? You want everyone to know who the hell I am?"

The younger brother raised a quizzical eyebrow. It wasn't that at all. He was proud of his brother's name. It, to the sage, was a strong name that commanded respect. "No, but does it matter? That's who you are and who you always will be to me," he confided, hoping that his words did anything but anger Gascon more. He soon regretted his choice, the rugged man before him leaning back suddenly with his mouth ajar.

The jacket clad thief gripped the sheets as he leaned forward, his face stern. "You'd rather remember me as the older brother who abandoned you? Who wasn't there when you needed him most? Who turned his back on his country," Swaine interrogated, pain seeping into his words, though his expression un-wavered. The younger prince's words stabbed him in the heart. He had hated going back to the past in the first place. Seeing himself, his past actions, it reminded him all too well of his negligence and inexperience. That's why he was so adamant about his name. "Swaine" was a different person- he had reasoned. "Swaine" was just a man, no nobility about him, that tried to survive. No power, no magic, no one to impress- he was just a common beggar to the everyday person.

His brother didn't see it that way. Marcassin still saw the young prince that had left all those years ago. He still saw his teacher, mentor, and only surviving family member. He saw what his predecessor was- the original heir to controlling the entire Empire. Most importantly, he still saw him as his brother. "If you had truly abandoned me, brother, you would have never returned." He observed as Swaine looked away from him in a vain attempt to hide a wounded look. "As for the rest…," he paused. He looked down at the plush royal blue carpet that covered the metal floor as if the fibers held all the answers to his older brother's questions.

The Dark Djinn would probably still be continuing his reign of terror without the support his brother had provided them in their battle. He realized then that, aside from a handing over a few spells and some magic used to help finish the Clarion, he was completely outclassed by his older brother in actual effort. He looked up at the glowering man, and though Marcassin was a ruler, he felt like a peasant in his older brother's presence. "All the magic in the world and I couldn't even join the battle, brother," he began, earning a baffled look from Swaine.

It was the thief's turn to raise an eyebrow in confusion. "What are you on about," he asked, shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders, his once clenched hands flying up before returning to the cream sheets of the large bed.

"You've outdone me at every turn. You actually helped Oliver face the Dark Djinn, Ga-," he cleared his throat, remembering his brother's qualms. He looked at his right hand, shame gracing his delicate features. "You were there for him. You fought alongside him. You helped make him as powerful as he is now. And I, a Great Sage? I sat in my palace giving orders and practicing politics while you and Esther fought alongside the savior of this world." He looked up to meet Swaine's now softened but concerned gaze, his hands now resting on his knees. The younger took his prior's hands in his. "I know you not as the version you remember." Before the thief could interject or pull away as he was wont to do, Marcassin gripped his brother's hands and leaned forward his expression earnest.

"I remember a brave and determined Gascon: a brother and prince wise beyond his royal instruction. I remember the brother who would design machines beyond my own imagination- who's eyes lit ablaze when a new contraption rolled out of a workshop." He watched as the corners of his brother's mouth twitched, a sign his words were reaching him at least. "I remember my mentor- my closest friend- so enthusiastically asking me to help him put together a model pig tank and how excited he was to see it work. That's the Gascon I remember- and I could never do what he does or has done."

A moment of silence passed before either said a word to each other. Each of them stared in contemplation at their clasped hands dangling over the carpet.

Swaine- no, Gascon had always thought himself as the inferior one, despite being the older brother. To hear his brother's true thoughts on the matter- to hear that he held him in such high regard despite his lack of magic ability- had shattered his argument and his resolve on the name issue. It had also warmed his heart and made his soul soar with joy. One thing bothered the older prince, though: his brother seemed to be putting himself down prior to all of that.

He finally looked back to Marcassin, disappointed to see that, despite his earlier praise, the young ruler seemed bothered. He saw an uncertain and even unconfident look, a look he had only seen when his heart was broken. "Marcassin," he called out, his voice calm and steady, guiding his sibling's head as he slowly looked up.

"You did your part, and you did it exceptionally. Hell, if you hadn't given Oliver those spells or knew anything about prepping the Clarion, we'd be in an awful way." He proudly smiled at his brother. "We couldn't have beaten him without your help."

Marcassin was at a loss for words. He simply stared at Gascon, his hands going slightly slack, but otherwise still holding onto his brother's. Had he really forgotten how useful he himself had been? He mentally berated himself for being foolish. He looked down before apologizing for forgetting his role in the entire ordeal.

The thief took this opportunity to release his hands from his brother's loosened grip. His smile devolved into a smirk and he studied the bedside table adorned with tiny pig head shaped handles on the drawers. He scratched the back of his head, fighting the mess of curly brown hair and looked at his brother. "Oh and… Don't worry about the name. Call me whatever you like." He paused, realizing the loophole in his rationale. "Just nothing too ridiculous."

Marcassin's form loosened up from the stiff awkwardness of the situation. He leaned forward in surprise, a gleeful smile on his face. "So, I can call you 'Lord Hoggle-Boggle'," he teased.

Gascon grimaced, the silliness of the name too much for even him. He waved it off as it were an annoying insect. "Hey, now." He stopped, a sly grin crawling into existence. He straightened up as much as he could with a hunch, attempting a regal look with his hand on his chest. "That's 'Lord High, Lord of the Hoggle-Boggles' to you, 'your highness'," he joked mockingly, stealing the fairy's schtick for the sake of it.

The two of them laughed together in what felt like decades. The joke had, for the moment, transported them to happier days of their childhood. When the laughter died down, the older of the princes announced he was going to lay down, calling it a day. The younger nodded, left to his own devices until the others returned.

"Marcassin," the older prince called. Sleep began to catch him, but the warmth of his gratitude seeped into his voice.

The younger who had gotten up to inspect a painting on the wall of the room turned to his brother. He could only see the back of Gascon, his jacket acting as a makeshift sheet for the thief.

"Thank you… For believing in me."

~.~.~

A/N:

I love writing for these two. If you haven't noticed, the fic title actually comes from the first chapter's context. However, I like to imagine Marcassin is nymph-like, thereby justifying my writing about him and Swaine (and keeping Gemini the Greater Naiad in the thief's brood of familiars).

The argument they're having is also based on an ongoing argument between me and my mother about my name. I don't like my name for… historical reasons.

Anyway. I hope you enjoyed this drabble. Here's to more- if there are more. 

I'd like to hear your thoughts. (I bet you’re just shy. It's okay. I won't bite. I promise.) 

[mlawleviprice]

There Is a Light That Never Goes Out | Para

Tagging: Levi Price with mentions of Mitch Rutledge & Gage Jimenez, as well as Levi’s family Location: Non-disclosed location in Afghanistan, as well as hospitals in Kabul, Afghanistan & Manhattan, NY Time Frame: Nearly 4 years ago (early April 2014) General Notes: Mlaw Task 11, a flashback to the incident that essentially ended Levi’s military career. Warning for violent, descriptive occurrences & injuries, and mentions of needles.

The mission was straightforward: Extract Morocco’s kidnapped Prime Minister. Intelligence along with extensive and meticulous planning and preparation went into this, like every assignment the Team was tasked with. All of it, thankfully, paid off. The team had recovered the kidnapped government official and gathered what information they needed, and thanks largely in part to Levi’s expert marksmanship, excluding the SEAL team itself and the Prime Minister, there were no survivors.From there, the team prepared for their exit from the extraction site, gathering photographs and surveying the area, getting all of their collected data transferred over to the proper channels on their way back to their base. To cover their tracks in case of being followed, their planning had included red herrings and the team briefly splitting up into thirds. One faction secured the Prime Minister’s safe transport to the American Embassy in Kabul, prior to a safe and discreet return to a safe house in Tangier.

Levi’s friend, Gage, had been a part of the faction who transported the Prime Minister while Levi and their friend, Mitch, were in the red herring factions, departing on foot at first, and then eventually swapping rides in a couple of vehicles, before ending up on foot again. They had several miles of walking to do before they would get to their base camp. The terrain was dry mostly flat, and with them trekking late at night, it was colder than the day, but spending long stretches traveling in different vehicles, and a bulk of the mission in stealthy but uncomfortable positions, Levi valued the opportunity to walk with his friends. Mitch brought up having a rematch on a card game they had two nights ago and while Levi said he wouldn’t mind, Gage protested.

“I’m not playing another card game with you, Rutledge. Your ass cheats.”

Mitch ‘s face screwed up in confusion, “It was blackjack. How did I cheat?”

“Rigged the deck,” Gage retorted.

Levi and Mitch both pointed out, “You shuffled and dealt most of the games!”

While Gage still insisted that Mitch somehow cheated and some of their brothers in the humvee rolled heir windows down to chim in, Levi laughed a bit at the harmless argument that ensued. They continued on, everyone a level of relief and elation for a job well done that night. From outside the humvee, Gage asked how close they were to base and one of the guys checked with their GPS system before telling him they were roughly a mile out.

Taking the information, Gage announced to their team that he was going to run a ways ahead. “Gotta take a leak,” to which he received an array of innocuous jeering that soon died away as he began jogging far ahead of everyone.

“If you miss and get it on yourself you’re sleeping outside,” one person joked.

Another teased, “Watch for other snakes. Yours doesn’t bite back!”

As the jokes died down, Mitch and Levi picked up their own conversation, talking of plans for once they returned home to New York; Mitch was giving Levi a hard time about celebrating - or not celebrating - his birthday the previous week, but Levi hadn’t been swayed to celebrate. The most he was willing to do was go get a beer.

“Don’t need a cake ‘n I really don’t want any ‘a you tryna sing to me,” he said, drawing a laugh from his buddy.

And then it happened.

On its own, the triggering of the land mine wouldn’t have been as detrimental to the group as a whole. The fact that the humvee was what set it off, however, created a greater reaction than a lone misstep would have caused. One sonic boom, immediately followed another - the IED igniting the gas tank and causing the humvee to violently dismantle and set off even more, smaller explosions of their equipment and weapons blowing apart.

For a moment, it felt like everything then happened in slow motion. Heat and shockwaves knocked Levi and Mitch off their feet as glass, metal and shrapnel flew in every direction. Their close proximity rattled Levi’s eardrums badly enough that the only thing he could hear in the moment was a neverending, high-pitch ringing - the kind of sound they say only dogs can hear. He rolled to get on his feet, but fiery, needle-like spasms shot through his abdomen, anchoring him to the dirt again. Whether it was just as bad or worse than that, he wasn’t sure but as he started to double in on himself in agony, he saw it. How he hadn’t felt it when it happened, he wasn’t sure of that either but a long, wide and flat piece of metal shot through his calf, piercing muscle and bone.

The realization made the pain register in his brain but as much as he tried to cry out, the sound seemed to get stuck in his dirt-coated throat. His breaths were quick and shallow as he turned his head in the direction of the humvee. The bulk of it had still been intact to where you could tell what it once was, but much of it was engulfed in smoke and flames. Two of the tires were blown out, causing it to rest lop-sided, radiating gaseous fumes. It didn’t take anyone needing to say out loud that none of his brothers inside were still alive. Still fighting through the agony, Levi’s head lolled in the other direction, his vision going blurry but still able to make out the silhouette of Mitch’s body in a heap, a few yards away from him. Levi tried to make his voice work again, to call out to his friend, and hope for some sort of response back to know that he was alive, and okay. But what came from him was coughing and a burning feeling, like being forced to down too much scotch at once. He tried to fight against everything going with his body, the searing throughout his core, the literal stab in his left calf and his throat full of dirt; the relentless ringing in his ears and smaller cuts from the glass and being knocked off of his feet were nothing compared to the rest but he couldn’t get up and was barely hanging onto consciousness himself.

He looked up at the night sky, trying everything in his power - which wasn’t very much - to numb himself from everything his body was feeling. His eyes were focusing on the stars. It was something he didn’t see much of, living in New York City. The drop in population hadn’t changed how illuminated the boroughs were with all their billboards, buildings, headlights and neon. Out here, however, there wasn’t any of that. The only light was from the sky above, stars dotting the sky and a half moon. But the night sky was growing darker at a rapid pace. Even Gage’s face suddenly hovering over him was tough to make out.

And in a matter of seconds, the stars were gone. The moon was gone. The lights were all out.

They came back in full force, to the point where they were practically blinding for Levi, forcing his eyes shut again. That was usually the case when you regained consciousness inside a hospital. People were speaking around him but it was like listening from deep underwater. Hands were strapping masks and cords to him, shoving needles under his skin and attempting to draw responses from him but to no avail before the darkness overcame him again.

It went on like this for Levi for exactly how long, he didn’t know. When he finally came to for more than a few seconds or a few minutes, his hearing had improved but wasn’t completely restored. The only clue he had that he was back in New York was the fact that his sisters and Mee-Maw were spread about the room. Naomi was asleep with her head in Esther’s lap, or what of it that wasn’t occupied by Esther’s pregnancy bump. Mee-Maw was sitting directly beside Levi’s bed with her hand in his, and Jemma occupied another chair on the other side of his bed, hands folded and her head bowed in a prayer position. A recollection of what exactly happened back in Afghanistan wasn’t coming to him, but when he stirred and reflexively gripped Mee-Maw’s hand, it seemed to awaken everyone else in the room.

Mee-Maw breathed a sigh of relief while Naomi sprang up from Esther’s lap to come to his bedside, her eyes already filled with fresh tears. Jemma was offering her hand as comforting a gesture as she could without disturbing his bandages or the IV needle. Esther stayed where she was, refusing to look in his direction. Although Naomi’s voice cracked his name, Mee-Maw was the first to actually speak up, “How’re you feelin’, Leviticus?”

His voice hadn’t quite come at first, just a rasping, light wheeze that wouldn’t go away, even after several attempts to clear his throat. His face tensed from the failed attempts but Jemma brought a hand up to his shoulder, “The doctors said it might be a little while. You inhaled a lotta dust and dirt, and they had a tube in your throat durin’ the surgeries.”

Levi’s forehead creased. “Surgeries?” he mouthed, instantly bringing an anxious expression to Jemma’s face; her gaze darted from Levi’s eyes to Mee-Maw and Naomi on his left. But as he slowly turned his head to look at them and hope someone would give him answers, he got it, or at least one of it. While his right leg lay fully intact beneath the thin hospital blankets, the blankets and sheets lay flat where half of his left leg should have been. Despite trying to keep an outer calm, his heart monitor was giving away his internal panic. The more he tried to maintain his resolve outwardly, the higher Jemma, Naomi and Mee-Maw’s worries seemed to spike.

Mee-Maw did her best to explain, “They didn’t tell us much ‘a what happened to you. Said somethin’ they didn’t account for happened and… you got hurt real bad out there. They couldn’t… there was nothin’ they could do to save it… too much had been done. They had to operate on your insides too…”

Although he knew Mee-Maw was doing her best to be strong as she explained this, and Levi was doing his best to take it in and accept everything right then and there, he was struggling. If Mee-Maw’s voice wasn’t already difficult enough to hear just beside him, it was sounding even more distant, the more she explained his situation to him. The wet sniffs and quiet sobs from Naomi and Jemma gave millisecond distractions each time the noise made it to his ears, but the shock of having lost his leg, having been operated on, having to be back in New York already all overrode his family’s personal reactions and attempts to console him. Flashes of memories of what happened were vague, yet not vague enough to keep him from wondering what had happened to Mitch? And Gage? Were they alive? Were they back in New York as well?

His head was throbbing, and the rest of his body ached through the painkillers. He didn’t know if trying to piece together his memories was making his head hurt worse or not but a culmination of everything since he had woken up was quickly getting to him. He shook his head while pulling his hands away from his family. With the way he was positioned in the bed, lowering his head felt too much like doing a crunch, and consequently gave an unsettling pull to the stitched incision across his abdomen. Jaw clenched, he brought his large hands up to his face, covering it almost entirely. He couldn’t settle his mind on any one thought. What was to happen to him? His ability to walk again? His insides? His life and his military status? What happened to his brothers?

What.happened?

He wasn’t attentive as Mee-Maw quietly urged his sisters to give him some time alone. The shuffling of feet and chairs only barely registered to him when they started to excuse themselves. It wasn’t until he thought he was alone that he lowered his hands away, palms soaked with the warm tears he’d hid, that he realized not all of them had yet gone.

Esther was standing over him, shoulders squared, lips pressed in a firm line and her fingers curled into tight fists. As much as Levi wanted to take his eyes off of her, something wouldn’t let him. The two stared each other down, even when there was a crack in Esther’s steely composure.

“I really wanna hate you right now. Or at least punch you in your face, you know that?” she admitted through gnashed teeth. As soon as she stopped speaking she tried to press her mouth shut again but her lips were trembling and tears were welling in her eyes.

Levi didn’t say anything back to her, even as a few fresh tears rolled down his own face and stuck in the stubble along his jaw. Instead, he turned his left hand over, palm side up and lifted it to cuff one of Esther’s wrists. She lifted her hand and fitted it into his while the two remained silent until Esther felt composed enough to let him alone. In her leave, she carefully wiped her eyes several times, and then joined her family out to the nearby waiting room.

Still overwhelmed by everything, and heavily medicated from the painkillers, Levi grappled with his emotions, his questions, and his consciousness until the lattermost beat out the other two, pulling him back into more rest for the time being.