#his first instinct when he met her were to protect and be amused and charmed by her 🥹 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sylvana-the-tsarina · 1 year ago

Text

This story was just one rabbit trail of What-Ifs after another, all inspired by the tale of Tam Lin. Thanks, Red.

To Become a Lost Soul

Janet had perhaps seven years to her name when she met them.

It was a brief encounter, but a vivid one, such that she was still processing it when they met the second time. That second time was a visit, a visit from the Fey, and Janet had never in her life been so terrified and awestruck.

She’d never seen her father look so frightened either. Graeme was a large man with a solid sturdiness to him that made one think he could shoulder a mountain if he so wished, and though he had a kind soul, it was the type to be hidden from the observer behind a thick beard and stern grey eyes. Needless to say, to see him almost cowering before them was more fear-inspiring to her than the Fey themselves.

How many of them glided into the grand hall of the fort, she did not know, for the Fey leading the procession drew her eyes and the rest blurred into a muddle of sharp smiles and rustic grandeur in a certainly unnatural way. This Fey was their Queen, so her posture and crown proclaimed, and she was ethereal. A tall figure that towered over everyone, long hair that swept the floor, and such narrow beautiful features. The smile would have been friendly if there wasn’t so much teeth to it; clearly she felt at home in their wood & stone manor with its richly woven rugs and tapestries, despite her simple flowing robes and bare feet.

Her eyes swept the room once before landing on Janet’s form hiding behind her father, and the smile grew wider. Smiles should not be so terrifying, is what Janet thought to herself while her father placed a protective hand on her head. Smiles should make a person feel nice. Smiles should say they’re harmless.

The Fey were anything but harmless.

“To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?” her father’s voice rumbled. He had solidified again somewhat — likely their interest in his daughter had triggered his paternal instincts.

“My, such a charming young man,” the Fey Queen crooned. Her voice was strange in a way Janet couldn’t place, the tone as though she wasn’t talking to them, but rather about them. “You must be her father. It is only right that such a lovely child would have a lovely father. How befitting indeed.”

The full weight of her gaze was once again resting on Janet’s face, and though her knees threatened to give out beneath her, Janet ordered her expression to morph into a properly friendly smile. No teeth, not from her.

That seemed to satisfy, or perhaps delight, the Fey, whose smile grew to truly unnerving lengths as she said, “Such a sweet-ling! Her presence in my abode to-day was quite the pleasure. She fairly brims with potential. Potential, so much potential indeed… it would be such a shame to see it wasted.”

“Wasted, fair lady?” The man’s tone was cautious.

“Why, indeed. Though she possesses charm in abundance, true grace is that of the fey’s; grace that will take her far in the world, grace that I shall bequeath her.”

“The fair lady is excessively kind in her gifts; my daughter only meant to extend hospitality as she has been taught,” Graeme said, quiet and careful.

At the time Janet couldn’t understand it, couldn’t understand that her father had just saved her from owing the fae a debt whilst giving the Fey Queen a mild push to retract her offer, without outright denying her. She couldn’t imagine the way she would turn that string of words over in her head for years to come, marvelling at the protection it had given her. Just then she only understood that it made the Fey Queen either very angry or very amused; the light that flared in her eyes wouldn’t let Janet know which it was.

The Fey Queen tilted her head and gave a little laugh, the sound like the ones the birds made when scared from the bushes. “Such a family is certainly deserving of gifts periodically. Do you not think it so, Tamlin?”

“Yes, Mother.”

That was when she first saw the boy.

He was definitively Fey; the way he flowed forward from the rest of them to stand next to the Queen when she addressed him, the paleness of everything about him (from his eyes to his hair), and the calm lack of expression on his face were distinctly not human. But while he resembled his mother somewhere in his features, he lacked her eerie otherworldliness, instead projecting a serenity and safety that eased Janet’s death grip on her father’s cloak.

Their eyes met, and though his mask didn’t move (why did she think it was a mask?) she thought she saw some curiosity and… fear in his eyes.

Why was he afraid? He was one of them. What was so scary about Janet in comparison?

This puzzled her enough that she would have missed what was said next if it hadn’t come from the Queen.

“There is much Tamlin can learn from the sweet-ling, I am sure, so I will have him present the gift,” she said, placing her hand on his shoulder in a way that would have mirrored Janet’s father if Tamlin hadn’t stiffened ever so slightly when she did. “Be a good boy and give it to her, Tamlin.”

The boy-Fey was motionless for a moment, still looking at Janet without a change in his expression. She got the feeling he was hesitating.

“Mother, perhaps-”

“Yes?” The Queen’s voice had gotten dangerously soft.

“It is nothing. I will give her the gift.”

He glided forward then, stopping a pace or so away from them, and Janet cautiously stepped forward to meet him, her father’s hand sliding off her head without resistance. Perhaps it was Tamlin’s presence that allowed it; perhaps he was the reason she could hope this wasn’t all some menacing trick.

The boy-Fey held his hands out and Janet placed her hands there, marvelling at how niveous he was. She glanced at the Queen, who was smiling eerily once more, then at her father, whose eyes gave her support, before looking at Tamlin again. It was then that she saw the apology in his eyes — and the very real fear.

Why is he afraid? she thought again. What could I possibly do?

And then it slowly occurred to her that perhaps she wasn’t the one he was afraid of.

Before she could do anything, he closed his eyes and began murmuring a strange chant that was taken up by the other Fey in the room; a chant made of sounds she didn’t understand how he could make, one that flowed around Tamlin and herself, and seemed to reach deep inside her heart, looking for something.

She was getting light-headed with the way it was reverberating around the room, ancient and otherworldly and wild. Oddly enough, though Tamlin’s expression was still composed, she could feel his hands shaking too. This did not sit right with her, so she squeezed them with what little energy she could muster, and felt him tighten his hold in response, as if he was asking reassurance and giving some simultaneously.

It found what it was looking for, the chant; found it, and then began to take it, dragging that something away from Janet. Something very important and integral to her, because it hurt and it hurt worse than fire. She would have uttered a cry, or screamed, but the chant had taken her energy without her noticing, and it was so loud, and she could only feel pain, and she couldn’t feel anything, and it was so dark, and she didn’t exist, and it was too bright, and nothing was real besides the fact that Tamlin was still holding her hands and she was holding his.

He was going through whatever she was going through, she knew without a doubt, so she kept holding on to him until she could blearily blink her eyes open and see that they had both collapsed onto the floor, sweet silence permeating the room.

It’s over, she thought with a sigh that felt strange. It’s all over.

Then her eyes closed and darkness overcame her.

------

Later, her father would describe what happened as remarkable. The chant had brought out a light from both Janet and Tamlin, and their lights had flowed through the room, filling it with scents of berries and wild leaves and wet earth and stars, and livening the colours in the air, before it returned to them and everything settled once more. The Fae Queen had smiled down at the sleeping children and swept away without another word, leaving one of her entourage to pry apart their hands and take Tamlin’s unconscious form away.

Graeme had then scooped her up and brought her to her room, where her nurse (and their resident herbalist), Kenna, was summoned. Kenna had checked over her and identified nothing wrong, but the both of them had waited in fretful patience for Janet to wake up, anyway.

This all she heard perhaps a day or so after the incident. As it were, she came to in her bedroom, tucked in snugly under blankets with Kenna asleep on a chair nearby, the fireplace blazing comfortably. She lay still for a moment, a strange heaviness in her limbs, and then slowly sat up, feeling the last traces of strange dreams fade from her memory.

Something was wrong.

Her eyes skimmed the room, wondering what it was, and her uneasiness both lessened and grew when she couldn’t identify anything off. The blankets were slowly eased away, and she lightly pattered on to the floor, avoiding making any noise.

Why did she want to avoid making noise?

Janet stopped, puzzled. She’d never had a problem with being loud before. Graeme and the rest of the adults had nicknamed her a walking fireplace with how she blazed through the house, hopping about and uttering cheery remarks and filling the place with her warmth. Not that she was loud in a boisterous sort of way, she was too well brought up for that, but this sudden desire to be utterly silent was quite new.

It must be because the Fey’s visit was so frightening, and she didn’t want to distress poor Kenna’s nerves. Yes, that must be it. She was worried about Kenna.

This resolved, she glided over to where the windows were and drew the curtains aside to let light spill into the room. It was really too stuffy in here. Not enough air and light. Janet needed air and light; she couldn’t go without them.

She stopped again. Really? Were air and light so necessary? Well, however did she manage to go to sleep at night, then? Her father always closed the windows and curtains at night; it was too cold to do otherwise. Thinking about that now, though, made her feel kind of claustrophobic. What about the stars? The moon? The scent of lilies in the breeze?

Her head was aching, so she put a cold hand to it (why was she so cold?), hoping that would ease the pain. The sense of wrongness was strong — so strong. Why was Janet thinking all these things? What on earth had happened to her?

A little shimmer caught her eye, so she turned to look at what it was. That standing mirror wasn’t new, with its worn gold filigree and carved legs, and the girl it reflected back at her was familiar too…

Except…

Almost in a daze, she gently flowed forward and studied the person in the mirror. That was her figure, to be sure; small round freckled face, tiny button nose, large green eyes, and a head of thick, curly, brown-red hair. Everything she recognised as herself; everything except the expression on a face that was paler than it used to be.

That expression was familiar, though. She had seen it last on a snowy boy-Fey whose hands she’d held until they were taken apart.

Many minutes (or perhaps hours) passed as she stood there, stunned by that revelation; everything seemed suspended and still, her mind blank with disbelief. She was so absorbed that Kenna’s cry of surprise startled her to the point that Janet, the old Janet, would have jumped and uttered a cry herself, but she only gracefully tilted to face her nanny, carefully concealing every bit of dread and fear, though she did not know why.

---------

Everything was wrong.

He knew everything would be wrong. However, it was one thing to know and altogether another thing to experience. Wrongness could not be properly understood without feeling it oneself, and Tamlin would have preferred to go his entire life without understanding it.

The grass was uncomfortable under his cheek, and it took most of his willpower to prevent himself from shifting in discomfort. He had to understand before he did anything — a mindset he was thoroughly relieved to find still with him.

Where was he?

Ah. Right.

Still he kept his eyes closed, but strained to listen and feel everything he could from his surroundings. It was all the same- he recognised- and yet-

So new and unknown and terrifying. Off by a little margin. Dampened and hushed.

He was so scared.

Was that…. water… on his face? Why was there water on his face?

This phenomenon puzzled him enough to distract momentarily from the fear, and he sifted through his knowledge, trying to figure out what was going on. A few blurred moments later, two memories surfaced. One that was familiar, and the other that was new.

Crying. So that’s what it was. He was crying.

How strange. Tamlin had never cried before (or at least, he didn’t remember ever crying). This seemed to him to be a rather mellow kind of crying, if those other memories served him right, one where his tears simply slid down his face. There were other kinds: kinds that stole one’s breath so that it pained one, kinds that were noisy and messy, kinds that came from anger or joy. It was truly fascinating.

Although… he hoped he didn’t do any of those. Mother would…

He’d rather not think about it.

The grass was pricklier than ever, but he stayed still for about ten minutes more before allowing himself to get up, having confirmed that there was no one in the clearing with him. Opening his eyes for the first time since the ritual was a strange experience, and for a moment he panicked at his blurry vision before realising it was because of the tears. Rubbing his eyes and surveying his surroundings once more revealed that his vision was still not as good as it used to be, but it was better than he had expected.

He was too warm, he noticed. The girl, Janet, had been warm, so he supposed it wasn’t surprising, even if it was uncomfortable. Remembering her made a knot form in his chest, whether from guilt or the residual magic he was not sure. Perhaps both.

Magic. His magic.

Panic washed over Tamlin anew when he realised he couldn’t feel it anymore. Of course he couldn’t. He had expected as much, knew it wouldn’t be there. But one of the few things in his entire world that kept him safe had just disappeared, and he was scared. So very very scared.

There was the water, no wait, tears again. He swiped at his eyes again, trying to get it to stop. What would he do? Just what exactly would he do?

Inhale. Exhale. Think.

Something soft and warm bloomed in his heart for a moment before fading almost immediately. It stopped Tamlin’s thoughts altogether. Unlike the rest of the warmth, which still caused him some discomfort, that little spot of light had offered solace while it lasted.

He slowed. Closed his eyes. Breathed for a few minutes.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

And there it was again. Soft and warm, but far more present this time. The breathing continued until he was sure it wouldn’t disappear again, after which he turned his attention to it and studied it with a smudge of fascination.

Fascination that turned into a painful bit of hope once he recognised what it was.

So Janet had had magic. Was she aware of it? Well, considering how faint it was, probably not. In all likelihood, actually, it had only just awakened. With Tamlin, instead of the little redhead, which made that knot of guilt tighten again, but it was contrasted by his shoulders loosening with relief. If the magic had awakened before this, Mother would never have considered Janet at all.

Tamlin studied this new frail magic, trying to understand what it could do. Human magic was so very different from fey magic (if his own magic had been a good indicator of fey magic, that is): less wild and shifty, and more… calm. At home. It remained to be seen whether the relaxed air to him now was caused by the magic’s simple presence or by it, well, casting magic on him.

The peace couldn’t last for long, though.

Leaves rustled off the side and Tamlin tensed before turning to face the elegant, sharp Fey before him. Mother had come for her visit.

“Finally awake, are we, dear?” she said, the intonation on ‘dear’ as mocking as it had always been, her teeth sharpening in her smile. “Well? How do you fare? Happy, I hope?”

Tamlin stood and, for the first time in all his seven years, smiled back at her.

The response surprised him as much as it surprised his mother, sparking a profound relief deep in his heart and a wider smile from the Queen. To think that the friendly little Janet had hid herself behind her cheer, hid herself so well, in fact, that she had fooled even the Queen of the Fey.

Smiling didn’t suit Tamlin (this one made his face hurt because of how… much it felt to him, someone used to the barest ghosts of expressions), but it could protect him, and he was so very glad.

So he continued smiling, even as he said, “Yes, Mother.” Even as it drained his energy, even as the wrongness settled around him like fog in early mornings, he smiled.

Tamlin could protect himself. For just a little longer.

Next Chapter.

#finally got around to this!!#I will be editing this post to add links to the next chapter once I finish it #and I will also tag it with the story's title once that chapter's done #man I'm so happy #take THAT writer's block!#my post #silva writes #soul swapped #it's edited now!

5 notes · View notes

sneverussape · 4 years ago

Text

the snapes hcs

i usually hem and haw over how tobias and eileen were like depending on my mood, but i now have a more consistent view of the both of them, as well as their relationship with their son.

- tobias was a soldier in ww2. he had lied about his age and got in. he was nearly killed several times because he was impulsive and wouldn’t take kindly to direct orders. (i like this parallelism too because severus = also a soldier in a different war)

- eileen was a poor immigrant from the continent and was an orphan by the time she got into hogwarts. she graduated school sometime between 1947-1949, and had been linked to abraxas malfoy. they weren’t...dating...or anything, and abraxas was a few years older and belonged to different social circles, but there was...something. he was already engaged to someone else, however (he’d been betrothed to lucius’ mother since birth), and eileen wasn’t sure either if abraxas was the one she wanted because sure he was charming and handsome and funny when he wanted to be, but there was a streak of cold cruelty and possessiveness in him that she was uncomfortable with. because of her experiences with wizarding kind and the wizarding world, eileen chose to leave it as soon as she graduated in an attempt to put the past to rest and start over.

- eileen was in school at the same time as tom riddle and minerva mcgonagall. (can you imagine her surprise/horror when she finds out that strange boy she had been housemates with and whom abraxas had sneered at would turn into a cult leader? can you imagine how she would have reacted to her son joining him?)

- i’m still not decided on how tobias and eileen met but she had already definitely been living as a muggle then, and had been working her way through odd jobs and the like. she was no stranger to manual labor. tobias liked her for that, and he found it an amusing challenge to attempt to make her smile. they married in the early 50s.

- tobias was an artist at heart, which was almost comical due to his large build. he would draw and write for eileen, or would carve things for her. he was very showy of his love and his emotions. eileen was the opposite, always choosing to show her affections in private, and in ways only tobias would understand.

- eileen would sew and draw protective runes into her husband’s clothing and would hide it in the seams.

- tobias was a born and raised catholic. eileen never told him of her wizarding past, partly because she no longer felt it was important enough to mention, and also because she knew he may not be accepting of it due to his religious beliefs. he never forced her to go to church or partake in any of the rites and rituals, apart from their marriage.

- he wanted children. eileen didn’t. severus was the last among the line of many miscarriages, and was the first who was born alive. he was born at home. tobias was the first to hold him; eileen wouldn’t even look at him.

- eileen wished for her son to be a squib and at some point had attempted to wrest the magic out of him. in her own mind, she was protecting him from a world she herself had not found peace in. but severus’ accidental magic protected him from any of her attempts and, at one point, tobias caught her and thought she was trying to harm the baby. that was the first time he ever laid a hand on her. from then on, he never completely trusted her with severus.

- severus was doted on by his father. he taught him to whistle, fish, carve, draw, and would carry him around on his shoulders. he took him to mass and taught him his prayers. they got as far as severus partaking in his first communion.

- tobias first saw severus’ magic when severus saved him from a nasty fall. he slipped on ice going down the steps of their home, and severus instinctively put up a cushioning charm to protect his father before he cracked his head on the pavement. tobias thought he was going mad, but there was no other explanation apart from his wee lad who had shouted and raised his arms, and then his wife who had immediately accosted severus for performing magic ‘where muggles could see’.

- when eileen had no other choice but to explain to him that she was a witch and severus was likely a wizard, tobias’ whole worldview shifted. not only did his wife betray his trust, but he felt as though he was now to be damned for all eternity for siring a child with the powers of the devil. he took his frustrations out on the bottle, and avoided seeing his family for weeks. the abuse started not long after.

- eileen ran into abraxas for the first time since school when she went with severus to buy school supplies at diagon alley. abraxas still doted on her, and paid for a new cloak for severus. eileen threw it out the moment his back was turned; she would not cheat on her husband.

- the years when severus was in hogwarts were tumultuous and ridden with anxiety. eileen knew of the bullying incidents between severus and the marauders, and hated that she had ended up being right, that her son too struggled to keep his place in the wizarding world. she gave her son the chance to withdraw from school. severus declined, since he still preferred the wizarding world to the one where his father was fully a part of and had rejected him from.

- when tobias found out about the death eaters and the fact that severus was being actively recruited as part of them, he went ballistic and got in his face about how no son of his was going to fall prey to the kind of propaganda that had pushed him and many others to war and to their deaths all those years ago. severus didn’t listen and got the Mark. it was the first time tobias told him he was ashamed of him, and the last time they spoke.

#this got sad real fast #i love the snapes #they're an interesting family unit #and i think their relationships with each other are complex and deep #hc #the snapes #tobias snape #eileen prince #snape #hp

171 notes · View notes

morganaspendragonss · 4 years ago

Note

Tarlos prompt.

Carlos just had a break down about life. And his mum sorts him out. Which ends in his Mum having a convo with TK about how much Carlos and her were close until the weird coming out thing

thank you so much for your prompt! i hope you enjoy what i came up with!

also written for day 1 of @911lonestarangstweek: Emotional whump + “How do we fix this?”

ao3 | 2.1k

Of all the people TK might have expected to show up at the house when Carlos is on shift, Andrea Reyes is not one of them.

Unfortunately, however, she has, and TK is now painfully aware that he’s barefoot, wearing a stained t-shirt and sweats in front of his boyfriend’s mother, who he has only officially met once. She raises a solitary eyebrow, looking him up and down, and TK flushes deeply.

“Um, Mrs Reyes, hi,” he stammers. “Carlos is at work.”

“I know.” She smirks at his clear surprise, then gestures inside. “Can I come in?”

“Oh, uh, sure.” TK steps aside, wringing his hands together nervously as Mrs Reyes walks in. She looks around the space as though seeing it for the first time, which he vaguely registers as strange, given Carlos has lived here for years. Most of his mind, however, is taken up with freaking out over the fact that Carlos’s mother is here; she had seemed nice enough when Carlos had taken him over for Sunday dinner last week, but TK is in no way prepared for one-on-one interactions yet.

Especially now, when he’s barely been awake for an hour. “I-If you want to take a seat,” he says, trying to tame his anxiety, “I’ll just go and get changed into something a little more, um, presentable.”

He’s about to make a break for the stairs when Mrs Reyes catches his arm, her grip gentle but firm. “Don’t be silly,” she admonishes. “I may be Carlos’s mother, but this is your home too, no?”

“Well… It’s not... We don’t exactly… Can I get you something to drink?”

“You can sit down.”

Mrs Reyes smiles in clear amusement, and TK’s pretty sure he couldn’t be redder if he tried. He studiously avoids eye contact as he shuffles to the opposite end of the couch, sinking down into it with his gaze firmly fixed on his lap. He wishes Carlos were here, but he’s still got hours left on his shift.

Which reminds him. “Mrs, Reyes, I don’t mean to be rude, but…” He trails off, unsure how to phrase the question without sounding horrifically insulting.

Thankfully, she seems to understand. “You’re wondering what I’m doing here.”

TK nods. “Not that you’re not welcome!” he hurries to say. “But I figured you’d be here to see Carlos, only he’s not here, so… So.”

He winces at his own awkwardness, knowing he’s cutting a stark contrast to his behaviour at dinner. Sure, he can turn on the charm when he’s prepared and awake and with Carlos, but alone, half-asleep, and totally not expecting a visit?

He’s doomed.

Mrs Reyes sighs deeply. When TK looks back up at her, her expression has turned sad, a weariness in her face.

“Carlos came by our house before his shift this morning.”

TK raises a surprised eyebrow at the news; Carlos had left at six this morning, and he hadn’t said anything about going to see his parents. Not that he was supposed to, but TK can’t help but worry, especially with the way Mrs Reyes is looking at him.

“You know that two days ago was his first shift back after the suspension, yes?” she continues, nodding at TK’s confirmation. “He… When he arrived this morning, he was distressed, panicking over everything - mostly work, but he hinted at other things that I don’t… I’m not really sure what he was talking about. I was hoping you might have a little more insight?”

TK’s heart clenches at her words, but he forces a smile for Mrs Reyes’s sake. “What did he say?”

“What I understood was that he was anxious about going back to work. He thinks that no-one trusts him anymore, and he said that maybe they were right not to. I told him he was being crazy, but I don’t know if he listened to me.”

“Carlos never told me any of this,” TK whispers, horrified. He’d had no idea Carlos had been struggling so much, and he could kick himself for not pushing when he’d said that he was fine.

Mrs Reyes smiles thinly. “Of course he didn’t,” she says, almost fondly. “My Carlitos is a worrier; he’ll fuss over everyone else and never give a thought to himself, even if it runs him into the ground. I’m sure you know this.” She gestures to the scar on his forehead, and TK reaches up to touch it, running his fingers lightly over the ridged tissue.

He nods, sighing. “I’m sorry,” he says, barely able to look at her now. “I should have made sure he was okay. I asked, of course I did, but -”

Mrs Reyes cuts him off by reaching over to grab his hand. She smiles at him when TK looks up in shock, then squeezes gently. “You are not to blame. Carlitos can be very stubborn, especially when it comes to himself. He gets that from his father.”

She chuckles, then her face takes on that heavy look again and she lets go of TK, sitting back in her seat. “We talked for a while about his worries over work, but there was a point when I don’t think we were just talking about his job anymore. He said something about Gabriel and never being enough for him, but he wouldn’t explain when I asked. He left soon after that.”

TK swallows nervously. He has a pretty good idea what Carlos might have been referring to, but he doesn’t have a clue how to go about talking to Mrs Reyes about it. It feels wrong to do it without Carlos’s knowledge, anyway.

“It was your husband leading the investigation, wasn’t it?” he hedges, trying to steer her in that direction.

“It was, but this was more than that, I’m sure of it.” She sighs, sudden tears glinting in her eyes and - oh, TK is so not prepared for this. “We used to be so close, you know? All of us. But, one day, something changed. I don’t know what, or why, but suddenly he started keeping his distance more, and he stopped talking to us. I love my son, I only want the best for him, but it’s been years and now I don’t know how to help him.”

She meets his eyes, her gaze almost pleading with him. “You clearly care for him, TK, and I’ve never seen my son so happy as when he’s with you. Please, if you know anything… I just want to understand.”

TK bites his lip. Talking about this with Mrs Reyes feels like a betrayal of Carlos, but he’s not seeing a way out of this anymore. If she’s half as stubborn as her son, she won’t leave until she has at least some answers, and there’s no way she’ll believe he knows nothing.

“Did things change when he was around seventeen, by any chance?” he asks eventually, guilt twisting in his gut. “Maybe just after he, um, came out?”

Her lips part in surprise, a small crease forming between her brows. “Yes. But, I don’t understand, are you implying this is because of that? All we care about is that he’s happy, not who he loves; Gabriel and I have always done our best to support Carlos.”

TK winces. “All due respect, Mrs Reyes, but I’m not so sure that’s true.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Look, this is really a conversation you should be having with Carlos, I’ve already said too much -”

“If you have something to say, TK, please, just say it.” The warmth has dropped from Mrs Reyes’s face and she seems to be holding herself tighter. TK’s heart sinks; he’s just ruined things with his boyfriend’s mother. Perfect.

He swallows, staring hard at the floor. “It’s just something that came up after we met you at the market,” he explains quietly. “Carlos...he wasn’t sure how you would react to - to us, so he did what he does best, and chose to protect us both.”

“Protect?” Mrs Reyes’s voice is horrified, and TK looks up to find her staring at him in open confusion. “From what?”

TK doesn’t respond, but his grimace must be enough to tell her all she needs to know. She gasps and lifts a hand to her mouth, eyes shining.

“We thought…” She breaks off, shaking her head. “How do we fix this?”

He sighs. “Mrs Reyes… I can’t speak for Carlos, nor can I claim to fully understand what he’s been through. I came out to my parents when I was fourteen, and they were vocal about their support, to say the least.” TK chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck, his teenage embarrassment returning for a brief moment. “I’m not saying that’s the way to go, god knows it was awkward and overwhelming for all of us, but maybe talking to him would be a start? Carlos knows you love him, ma’am, but it wouldn’t hurt to let him know that you love all of him, if you understand what I mean?”

Mrs Reyes nods, sniffing and wiping at her eyes. “Thank you, TK,” she says, sending him a barely-there smile. “You’ve given me a lot to think about.” She stands and TK hurries to follow, grabbing the door for her.

He’s equal part relieved and worried over her abrupt exit; much longer, and TK thinks he might have lost it, but he can’t shake the feeling that he’s fucked up beyond repair. So, he’s surprised when she turns in the doorway and pulls him into a gentle hug.

“I’m glad Carlitos has you,” she smiled, patting his cheek. “And, it’s Andrea.”

With that, Mrs Reyes walks out, leaving TK staring after her, more than a little confused.

That night, TK watches Carlos move about their bedroom, his conversation with Andrea weighing on him as he twists the bedsheets in his hands. He knows he needs to talk to Carlos about it, but he has no idea where to start.

Carlos slides into bed beside him and TK instinctively leans his head on his shoulder. He’s just about worked up enough courage to say something, when Carlos interrupts, playing with TK’s fingers.

“My mom said she stopped by today.”

TK freezes, Carlos’s careful tone sending fear down his spine. He looks up slowly, biting his lip. “I was going to tell you, I swear. I just…couldn’t figure out how.” He pauses, waiting for some sort of reaction, but none is forthcoming. “Did she… Did she tell you what we talked about?”

Carlos hums. “Some of it. She wants me to go over tomorrow to talk about the rest of it.”

TK closes his eyes, slumping back against the headboard. “Shit, Carlos, I’m so sorry. I know I overstepped. I - I shouldn’t have said half of that stuff, I was way out of line -”

“TK.” Carlos’s voice is firm but gentle, cutting through TK’s panicked rambling. He looks over at him, some of his anxiety melting at the small smile on his boyfriend’s face. “You don’t have to apologise.”

“Don’t I?”

Carlos sighs. “Would I have preferred to have been there? Sure. But I’m not mad about anything you said. I know you didn’t really want to; my mom said she practically forced it out of you.”

TK huffs a laugh, but doesn’t try to deny it. “Still,” he says. “Is everything okay between you guys now?”

“We’re fine.” Carlos pulls him close, kissing his cheek. “Don’t worry.”

“Like I could ever stop,” he mutters, resting his head on Carlos’s chest and drawing his arms around him. Carlos moves as if to lie down, but TK stops him, another question burning in his mind. “Why didn’t you say anything about how worried you were to go back to work?”

Carlos tenses, silence dragging out for a brief moment. “I didn’t want to worry you,” he confesses eventually. “You had enough on your plate with the kidnapping and recovering, and I couldn’t add onto all of that. I was dealing with it.”

TK’s heart breaks at the words, tears pricking at his eyes. “Oh, Carlos,” he breathes. He twists to meet Carlos’s gaze, gripping his hands tight. “You know I love you, right?”

Carlos nods, frowning a little. “Of course. I love you, too.”

“Exactly,” TK continues. “This relationship is a two-way street, babe. I know you like caring for people, but you’ve got to let me care for you as well. You can come to me about anything, and I promise I’ll do my best to help you, just like you do for me. Please, let me in, Carlos.”

Carlos blinks, clearing his throat. “I… I’ll try,” he says eventually, ducking his head.

TK smiles. “That’s all I ask.”

97 notes · View notes

deceasedanddesist · 4 years ago

Text

eyes off you ( hermione granger )

this is for kelly’s 3k writing challenge!! @anchoeritic ily kells<3

pairing: hermione granger x slytherin!reader ( half blood prince )

gender neutral! reader ( if there is a mistake or i accidentally used she/her pronouns let me know and ill fix it! )

warnings: small mentions of abuse at home, other than that just fluff and awkwardness.

notes: inspired by the song ‘eyes off you’ by prettymuch, the lyrics are bolded and italicized. y/n is the biggest simp. please ignore my grammar mistakes and my horrendous sentence structure. this also gives off major jily vibes, so do what you will with that information. I kinda went off with this I'm so sorry if it starts to get boring. images are from pinterest.

word count - 1.9k

hermione granger was a stubborn girl, that was one thing you knew for sure. when the two of you first met she had been adamant on hating your guts, excessive flirting and all. it was your persistence is what really got through to her; like starting to hang out in the library because you knew she would be there, and helping her pick up her books when some asshole seventh year—adorning the same infamous emerald green you did—tripped her up in the hall ( although not before threatening the bugger in her honour first ).

at the end of the day, the little acts of service were the things that made hermione swallow her pride and finally go on a damn date with you. at first, harry and ron were in utter shock that the girl was even considering going on a date with “the enemy” as they oh-so-subtly put it. but she just told them they were being overly dramatic, and that their input into who she decides to date was simply inadequate. so was it ever the surprise that one day when you finally worked up the courage to ask her, she actually said yes.

“are you serious?” you had expressed your complete disbelief of the words you just heard come out of the curly haired girls mouth.

“yes y/n, i am dead serious.” she had echoed back to you, looking thoroughly amused.

you were astonished, the girl that you quite frankly couldn’t take your eyes off of since fifth year actually agreed to go out with you. the gryffindor girl specifically that you had set your sights on, ignoring the warnings from your friends and backlash from your family, it had all paid off. becoming more defiant with your family last summer was no easy deed, but you knew the yelling and even the hitting was better than whatever they were scheming up for you this summer. lord voldemort was getting even closer to making sure he had a solid, fucked up, but loyal fanbase and you knew you would soon be a part of it if you didn’t get your shit together. you pretty much had a foolproof plan to get the hell out of your psycho household, you just needed to wait for the right moment to act on it.

amidst all of this, you knew it was dangerous to get involved with a muggle born, and you knew you were being selfish by risking yours and hermione’s lives. but there was something about her. the way she would make you feel when your insistent nagging got her lips to turn up just a little bit, or when you did something particularly embarrassing and finally got a boisterous laugh to erupt from her mouth in the middle of potions ( snape was not happy with the two of you ).

so you knew it was dangerous, you really did. but as soon as you saw hermione in the corridor right outside of the slytherin common rooms, waiting for you like you had anxiously asked her to after dinner yesterday, you knew you were down bad. you knew you were down bad because as soon as you saw her face drop when draco malfoy approached her, your heart lurched and you basically sprinted to where she was standing. she was in the middle of telling malfoy to shut up when you slid up beside her and threw an arm around her shoulder ( because protective instincts.... duh! ), somehow managing to simultaneously tell him to ��sod off” and flip him the bird while hermione sunk into your side like there's no place she’d rather be.

as the two of you ran off, you couldn't help but mutter into her ear “mione, i'm not sure.....but i think his father will be hearing about this.”

you had a feeling that the laugh she let out was one you’d be hearing in your dreams for a while.

“so, where would you like to take me y/n.” she spoke, the air of the previous laughter still heard in her voice.

“tell me anything you wanna do.”

she hummed “i don't know. how about the three broomsticks?”

while you were mulling it over, she slipped her hand in yours. your head immediately turned to meet her eyes.

there's no touch or feeling

pleasure or pain

anything like the way you're runnin' through my veins

the sudden affection had you choked up, and you had to clear your throat before continuing “um, that sounds great.”

as soon as the consent left your lips she was dragging you up the road and into the warmth of the pub, where madame rosmerta greeted the two of you at the front door. hands still intertwined, you ordered two butterbeer before wandering off into a booth. it was cozy, and you found yourself ravishing in the feeling of it all; going on hogsmeade dates, holding hands, and curling up in a booth with your drinks. it wasn’t long before you and hermione were mindlessly chatting about anything and everything, falling so deeply into conversation. only breaking out when you make her laugh, or when you go speechless at the broad smile that completely lights up her face, something that you noticed was specifically reserved for silly stories about harry and ron or her parents. you hoped that someday she would be able to talk about you with that marvellous smile on her face.

“you’re staring.” she looked adorably embarrassed at the sentiment, heat rising to her cheeks.

“I just can't take my eyes off of you.” it was a bold ( albeit true ) statement, and hermione swore to merlin you looked like you never meant any other utterance more.

“that's very generous of you, but i'm afraid i'm not that attractive.”

you looked at her in complete disbelief, “okay, okay, i’m going to wholeheartedly disregard what you just said,” taking a pause for dramatic effect “because you are the single most beautiful girl i've ever laid my eyes on, hermione granger.”

if the girl wasn’t blushing before, she was now. the way she was scrunching up her nose was the cutest, and you found her obvious inability to take a compliment quite charming. it actually boosted your own confidence, and you found yourself wanting to shower her with praises for the rest of your life just to see her reaction over and over again.

“what?” you teased, a sly smile making its way onto your face, “don't tell me potter and co deprive you of the flattery you deserve.”

the way she tilted her head and had her eyes narrowed ever so slightly told you everything you needed to know, she watched as your eyes widened in shock but shook it off because of the awkward air that was suddenly formed over the topic.

you were quite literally panicking, what if you just ruined everything? curse your slytherin ambition, you must’ve gone too far with your allusive comments. hermione hadn’t talked for about five minutes now, opting to finish her butterbeer, and the energy full of endless conversation dissipated long ago. your mug was still half full, sitting in front of you. you were just sitting there, staring at it, frantically searching your brain for something to talk about but you were fucking blanking. you were failing at pretty much the only thing you pride yourself on, and it happened to be the thing that got hermione to even go out with you in the first place.

once hermione was finished nursing her drink, you decided to speak now before she decided to make up an excuse to leave. “I'm sorry if I went too far, I do that sometimes and I made you uncomfortable, and i'm so sorry.”

then, she did the one thing you would have never even fathomed. she laughed. the girl was chortling, her head thrown back and when she finally came down from her fit she had tears running down her face.

“I'm sorry,” she said, noticing your eyebrows furrowed in concern “i've just never had someone apologize for complimenting me.”

you let out an anxious chuckle, “well you did kind of stop talking there, i figured i hit a nerve.”

“oh no! i just used to, um, fancy ron and he hasn't complimented me nearly as much in 6 years then you’ve had in an hour.” she stumbled over her words a bit as she spoke, evidently uncomfortable discussing her previous crush on weasley.

“well,” you dragged on, “i think you deserve all the flattery in the world.”

you swore to salazar slytherin himself her smile lit up the whole room, and your heart swelled when she reached over the table to grab both of your hands and link them with hers.

“how about we go for a walk, the black lake maybe?” the suggestion brought your attention to how dark it had gotten outside, you estimated that you had about an hour till the sun set. you smirked.

“I see you’re trying to snag a sunset kiss by the black lake, granger.”

your smirk turned into a full on smile as she got flustered once again, biting her lower lip.

“it's absolutely barbaric that you would allude to that, l/n.” the sarcasm was clear in her tone as you both erupted in a fit of giggles.

leaving the three broomsticks hand in hand once again, the two of you made your way down to the lake. you take off the sweater you were wearing to spread it across the grass for you and hermione to settle yourselves on. it wasn't very big, but neither of you seemed to mind as you snuggled into each other against the nights breeze. your arm making its way around her shoulder as she wrapped her arms around your waist and rested her head on your shoulder.

you two watched the sunset in silence. it wasn’t awkward like a few minutes ago, there wasn’t a need to fill it with dialogue, it was completely comfortable. hermione adjusted under your arm and turned her head to look at you, the sudden change in direction making a few curls get caught in her glossed lips. before she could even lift her arm, you were already there, brushing her hair behind her ear. your hand found its home behind her neck as you angled your head to brush your nose against hers, her lip unconsciously making its way in between her teeth again.

you took a sharp breath and spoke, “every little thing you do drives me wild.”

“are you gonna give me that kiss, or keep talk-”

you could feel her words melt away against your lips as you took action and pushed her head towards yours. her hands tightening around your waist and her soft sighs as your lips connect act as reminders that she wants this as much as you, and you are so damn thankful that she leans back in after you separate to take a breath.

and the sun sets with the two of you, hanging onto each other like you were each others lifelines, previous thoughts about your family or the stupid slytherin/gryffindor feud are long gone by now.

you decide that you can deal with all of your problems in the near future, because now you have hermione safe in your arms, and that's more than enough motivation for you to stay right where you are.

#kelly's 3k wc !#harry potter #hermione granger x reader #gender neutral reader #hogwarts #hogsmeade #this is my first like writing post so please be nice to me #I'm sorry if this is shit #i tried #plz give me constructive criticism #i need it

98 notes · View notes

acesydneysage · 3 years ago

Text

A Sydney and Eddie retrospective

@vablappreciationweek Favorite familial relationship: The Melrose Twins

Part 2, Books 4-6: The Heartbreaking Trilogy, Why Are You Doing This To Me This Is So Sad

Part 1 here

In The Fiery Heart, Sydney and Eddie definitely already love each othe like siblings. By the end of the book they prove that in the most painful way possible, but let's ge through some cuteness first while I steel my heart.

We get Adrian's perspective on this book, so it's nice to see Eddie talking about Sydney when she isn't around:

“Because it’s Sydney,”said Eddie from the backseat. In the rearview mirror, I could see an easy smile on his face, though there was a perpetual sharpness in his eyes as he scanned the world for danger. He and Neil had been trained by the guardians, the dhampir organization of badasses that protected the Moroi. “Giving one hundred percent to a task is slacking for her.”

When Sydney wants to soften Zoe's extreme opinions on vampires, she picks Eddie to be Zoe's driving instructor because she wants "someone approachable and friendly who’d show her not all dhampirs were evil creatures of the night."

When Sydney is being a sappy romantic and describes what love is to the group, Eddie is the one who lingers looking at her the longest, he can tell something is different about her. They really know each other by now. When Eddie let's Zoe drive outside of the parking lot, he knows Sydney so well that he knows what she's going to say, and what to say to make it better:

“I can’t believe Eddie of all people would do that. It’s irresponsible.”She nodded. “He said you’d say that and that I should tell you, ‘At least it wasn’t Angeline.’”I couldn’t help it. I laughed at that. “That’s true. He does have limits.”

Later when she tells Zoe frivolity might not be such a bad thing, they have a sweet little moment:

“Sometimes frivolity isn’t a bad thing.” Eddie, who didn’t seem put out about the dance, grinned. “Sydney, when we first met, I never would’ve thought those words could come out of your mouth. What happened to you?” Everything, I thought. I met his grin with one of my own. “We all need some fun. We should forget that dance and go out and see a movie that night. When was the last time we all did that?”“I think the answer is ‘never,’” said Jill.

When Neil comes up with his crazy plan to test the Stigoi vaccine, Eddie is very shaken up by the similarities to the event in Spokane that lead to Mason's death. While Sydney thinks that "if Eddie was involved, one Strigoi seemed feasible", what finally convinces Eddie to go is her magic. Although Neil puts her on the spot, she does ultimately make the choice to trust him with this dangerous knowledge about her:

Eddie wasn’t swayed, and there was a look on his face I’d never seen before. “I’m not denying the principles, but it’s too dangerous. And not just to you. I did something like this once . . .” A pain so intense that it tore at my heart crossed Eddie’s features. “Me and some friends. We thought we could take on Strigoi . . . and my best friend ended up dead. No matter how prepared you think you are, even against only one, the unexpected can happen.” [...] The more this got out, the more trouble I was in. And yet, as I looked into Eddie’s steady gaze, I was reminded of our friendship and all we’d been through. In a world of secrets and lies, there were few I could thoroughly trust anymore, but I knew then, without a doubt, that Eddie was one I could. Taking a deep breath, hoping I wasn’t being a fool, I held out my hand. A nervous glance around confirmed we were alone, and I brought forth a spark of fire in my palm that soon grew into the size of a tennis ball. Eddie leaned over and gasped, the orange flames reflecting off his face. “Maybe . . . maybe our odds have gotten better,” he said.

During the fight with the Strigoi they go after, we get a little more about their similarities, how they're both so dedicated to helping others, and they both seriously admire each other so much. You get a bit of that from Sydney's perspective,and how much she cares about Eddie:

I knew what agony Eddie had to be in because I shared it. We both wanted to help Neil. Doing nothing, even for a handful of seconds, went against every part of our beings. [...] For his part, Eddie was magnificent. It had been a while since I’d seen him fight, and I’d nearly forgotten that the adopted brother I joked and ate lunch with was a lethal warrior. [...] I had to act. I couldn’t just stand by and let Eddie be annihilated, not if there was anything I could do.

After the fight, Sydney is caught up in the euphoria of surviving a near death experience, and she makes pretty much zero effort to hide her relationship with Adrian from Eddie:

As soon as I was on the road with Eddie and Jill, I told them, “I need to see Adrian. Drop me off and take my car. He’ll give me a ride back.” Eddie looked totally surprised by that. “Why do you need to see him?” “I just do.” I didn’t feel like attempting an excuse, and Eddie wasn’t the type to badger me. The most I got was a curious look when we reached the apartment. His curiosity turned to panic when he realized I’d be leaving him alone with Jill. “Good luck,”I said as I got out, not entirely sure who needed it the most.

When Eddie figures out that they're together she tries to avoid the conversation, expecting condemnation, but he's very supportive. This is the last conversation they have before everything falls apart, and everything I tried to remove to shorten it felt like an important character moment, but the most relevant parts are bolded:

“Sydney . . .”Eddie’s light mood vanished, and even with my eyes on the road, his tone tipped me off that something serious was about to happen. “About that. About you going to Adrian’s . . .”I felt a tightening of my throat and couldn’t answer immediately. “Don’t talk about that,” I said. “Please.” “No, we need to.” Eddie knew. Eddie knew, and if the subject wasn’t so dire, I would’ve laughed. He was oblivious to his own social affairs, but guardians were trained to watch and observe. Eddie did that, and no doubt he’d picked up all sorts of little things between Adrian and me. We tried so hard to hide from the Alchemists, but hiding from our friends, who knew us and loved us, was impossible. “Are you going to lecture me?” I asked stiffly. “Tell me I’m breaking taboos that have been in place for centuries to preserve the purity of our races?” “What?” He was aghast. “No, of course not.” I dared a look. “What do you mean ‘of course not’?” “Sydney, I’m your friend. I’m his friend. I’d never judge you, and I’d certainly never condemn you.” “A lot of people think what we’re doing is wrong.” It felt strange and oddly relieving to acknowledge my relationship with Adrian to another person. “Well, I’m not one of them. If you guys want it . . . that’s your business.” “Everyone’s suddenly very liberal about this,” I said with wonder. “I just heard a similar thing from Trey and Angeline—about their own relationship, that is. Not about . . . other people’s.” “I think my ill-fated time with Angeline may be part of it,” he said, with more humor than I expected, considering she’d cheated on him. “She talked enough about her people that after a while, it didn’t seem that weird. And, well, my race exists because humans and Moroi got together and had kids way back when.”I felt a smile start to grow on my lips. “Adrian says it wouldn’t be fair to the world if he and I had kids, what with the overwhelming power of our collective charm, brains, and good looks.” Eddie laughed outright, not something I heard very often, and I found myself laughing too. “Yeah, I can see him saying something like that. And that’s the thing, I think . . . the real reason I’m not that weirded out by you two. It goes against all sound logic, but somehow, you two together . . . it just works.” “‘Against all sound logic,’” I repeated. “Isn’t that the truth.” A little of his amusement faded. “But that’s not what worries me. Or the morality of it. It’s your own people I’m worried about. How long are you going to be able to go on like this?” I sighed as I took the exit for the meeting spot. “As long as the center holds.”

Eddie thinks Sydney and Adrian make sense. Obviously I agree that they absolutely do, but on a surface level it doesn't look like it. You have to know them and have a better understanding of their personalities to figure out how they actually fit together. What he's worried about is the Alchemists. Of course, by this point, since the ending of TFH is a sadistically drawn out torture, we already know from the ending of the last chapter that she's about to be captured.

I made it the door first... and found Eddie. His clothes were dirty and torn, and the right side of his face was swollen and red. There was a wild, half-crazed look in his eyes I’d never seen before. A feeling of dread settled over me, and the darkness and despair and fear that had left me alone for so long began to rear their collective ugly head. I knew, even without Eddie saying a word, what had to have happened. I knew because of that terrible look of pain on his face, a pain similar to when he hadn’t been able to save Mason. [...] “Adrian,” he gasped out. “I tried, I tried. There were too many. I couldn’t stop them.” He came forward and gripped my arm. “I tried, but they took her. It was a setup. I don’t know where she is. She tricked me, damn it! I never would have left her if she hadn’t tricked me!”

When they figure out it's a trap and he tells her to run, her first instinct was that she couldn't leave him behind. When they're running together through the woods the Alchemists start shooting at Eddie, specifically. He's running at Sydney's pace and she knows he would never leave her, the he would die to save her. And she knows she could not let him die.

Eddie won’t leave me, I thought frantically. He’ll never leave me. They want me, but they don’t care about him. He can live or die, and it won’t matter to them. But if he’s what’s keeping them away, they’ll shoot him and destroy his body. “Eddie,”I said, panting. “We need to split up.” “Never.” That answer wasn’t a surprise. What was a surprise was that out of all the things rattling around in my mind, Abe Mazur’s words popped up in the forefront:. Don’t think for an instant that I wouldn’t do terrible, unspeakable things if it could save someone I love. Because it was Abe, I’d naturally assumed he was talking about doing terrible, unspeakable things to other people. But as Eddie and I held on to each other, the words took on a whole different meaning. In that moment, I knew I would do anything to save Eddie—my friend—whom I loved. Even if it meant doing something terrible and unspeakable to myself.

The first thing established in the first paragraph of Bloodlines is that re-education is Sydney's greatest fear, literally her worst nightmare. But she faces that, she walks right back and turns herself in in order to keep Eddie safe. She tricks him into spliting up by claiming that it's part of a spell, and he believes her because he's seen her do extraordinary things.

“I tried,” he whispered. “Adrian, I tried. I never would have ever left her if I’d known. I would have stayed with her to the end. I would have laid down my life and—” I had to forcibly hit the pause button on my own feelings as I dealt with his. Eddie had lost another person. It was bad luck, that was all. He was one of the most badass , capable guardians out there, but he couldn’t believe that about himself, not when he kept seeing these failures laid at his feet. Looking into his eyes, I recognized the intense self-loathing consuming him. I knew the feeling well because I was carrying around a fair amount of it myself. “I know you would have,” I said. “There was nothing you could do.” He shook his head and stared off with a haunted look. “I was an idiot. I never should’ve bought into that spell stuff. After what I’d seen her do with fire, it just seemed so . . . well, real. I believed her. It made sense.” I smiled without humor. “Because that’s what she does. She’s trained to make people believe things. And outsmart them. You didn’t have a chance.” She also was willing to trade her own life to save her friend’s, but no one had trained her to do that. It was just something within her. Eddie wasn’t going to be swayed so easily, and I left him to his grief as I huddled with mine.

When Sydney's captured, Eddie feels like he failed her, just as he'd failed Mason in Spokane, and Jill when the rebels killed her. But still, he has faith in her, that she can hold on to herself:

“How much can they really change her, though?” asked Eddie. “I mean . . . she’s Sydney. She’ll be the same . . . right? She can fight them.”

In Silver Shadows,Sydney is in re-education, and she still finds it in her to be worried about her friends on the outside. Eddie's humiliation and guilt over having lost Sydney killed the kindling romance he had with Jill. There isn't much he can do to help find her at this point.

Once they find a lead on where she is, going to her rescue is very important to Eddie, but he also feels conflicted about leaving Jill with less protection. When the time comes, Jill convinces them to take Eddie because he needed to be part of her rescue, he'd been consumed by guilt this whole time, and that might be the only thing that would allow him to feel redeemed.

With some urging from Jill, he leaves her behind, and goes off to break into a prison again, to rescue a much worthier prisoner this time. After getting mostof the prisoners out, Eddie and Adrian go back into the burning building to get Sydney and the remaining people. After they bring her out to freedom, they have this moment where they hold each other and cry, it always makes me so emotional:

Eddie came last, and as we sized each other up, the tears hovering in my eyes finally spilled. “Eddie, I’m so sorry I lied to you that night.” He shook his head and pulled me to him. I heard tears choke up his voice. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stop them. I’m sorry I wasn’t protection enough.” “Oh, Eddie,” I said, sniffling. “You’re the best protection. No one could have a better guardian than you. Or a better friend.”

I hope Eddie did feel redeemed, because Sydney pretty much immediately tricks him, and gives him the slip again. She does take the time to try to nudge his love life again first. Then she goes off with Adrian, going against the plan, because she thinks the other fugitives will be safer without her.

"Eddie shot me one last parting smile that nearly choked me up again." “I never thought I’d see Castile brought to tears,” said Adrian as he started up the Mustang. “This really hit him hard. Hell, it hit all of us hard, but he really beat himself up for it. He never forgave himself for you giving him the slip.” “Let’s hope he can,” I said, putting my seatbelt on. “Because it’s about to happen again. We aren’t meeting them at the safe house.”

Eddie was furious about this, but at least this time she didn't get captured. And soon enough he had something else to feel bad about, since Jill went missing right after he got back to her. She disppeared without a trace in the middle of the night, and there's another failure laid at Eddie's feet.

He's not in a great state in the beginning of The Ruby Circle:

Eddie appeared in the doorway. Seeing him almost always brought a smile to my face. In Palm Springs, we’d passed ourselves off as twins, sharing similar dark blond hair and brown eyes. But over time, he’d truly come to feel like a brother to me. I knew few others with such courage and loyalty. I was proud to call him my friend, and as such, it hurt me to see all the pain he felt over Jill’s disappearance. There was always a haunted look about him now, and sometimes I worried whether he was really taking care of himself. He hardly ever shaved anymore, and I had a feeling the only reason he bothered eating was so that he could keep training and stay in shape for when he located Jill’s abductors.

Sydney isn't doing all that great either, stuck in a hostile environment while she deals with her trauma and worries about Jill. When Sydney and Eddie sneak out of court to look for Jill, the power of Raptorbot can make him smile:

“It couldn’t have been that unexpected,” I argued. “I mean, why did he build a dinosaur body for her? Why not something more human? Or at least a more friendly animal?” “Because then there wouldn’t have been much of a movie,” said Eddie. “There’s still got to be a plausible backstory …” I said. A wry smile crossed Eddie’s features, and although the entire topic was absurd, I realized I’d hardly ever seen anything but a grim expression on his face since Jill had been taken. “I don’t think you can really sit down with a movie called Raptorbot Rampage and expect a plausible backstory,” he said. The attendant looked offended. “What are you suggesting? It was a fine piece of film. When the sequel comes out, people will be lined up out the doors to see this exhibit!” “Sequel?” Eddie and I asked in unison.

I love it when the twins talkin unison, even if they probably had opposite tones. And I really love Eddie being a fan of Raptorbot I'm sorry. He and Declan have matching Raptorbot pajamas, you can't change my mind. This is another exchange that screams siblings to me:

“We were probably his only customers today,” I remarked. “That’ll make us memorable—that and having someone who’s actually seen and liked Raptorbot Rampage.” “Hey,” warned Eddie. “Don’t judge until you’ve watched it.”

Later Sydney tries to tease him about it again, but he's focused on the search so his good humor doesn't come back. I think it's very sweet thet she saw something that had made him momentarily happy through the pain, and tried to press that button again.

Eddie is understandably very protective throughout this book. It's not paranoia if they're really out to get you, they actually run into Sydney's family, while they're trying to stay off the Alchemists' radar:

“Then get out of here. Hurry—before he comes out. Both of you.” I was stunned at this complete reversal in her behavior, but Eddie didn’t need to be told twice. He took hold of my arm and nearly dragged me to the car. “We’re going—now,” he ordered. I caught one last glimpse of Zoe before Eddie shoved me in the car, where Ms. Terwilliger sat waiting for us. A thousand emotions played over Zoe’s face as we peeled out, but I could only interpret a few. Sadness. Longing. As we quickly got back on the road, I found myself shaking. Eddie was driving and kept anxiously checking the rearview mirror. “No sign of pursuit,” he said. “She must not have been able to see which direction we went to tell him.” I slowly shook my head. “No … she didn’t tell him at all. She helped us.” “Sydney,” said Eddie, in a stern-but-trying-to-sound-kind voice, “she’s the one who turned you in the first time! The one who started that whole re-education nightmare.”

He doesn't really belive that Zoe had a change of heart, and he tries to be so gentle with Sydney, while anxiously trying to get her away.

With how sad he is in this TRC (he even has broody beard to show it), the bits where he gets excited about things are really adorable. He's very enthusiastic about meeting Malachi Wolfe:

“Are the Chihuahuas really trained to attack?” he asked. I couldn’t help but grin. “That’s what Wolfe claims. We’ve never seen them in action, though.” “I can’t wait to see his nunchucks.” “Do not touch them,” I warned. “Or any weapon, without permission. If he approves of you, he might lend you something too.” [...] “Oh, man,” breathed Eddie. “There really is a herd of them.” I’d seen Eddie fearlessly face down an attacking Strigoi, but he took an uneasy step back at the sound of the canine charge. I grinned and turned toward the door, waiting for Malachi Wolfe himself to answer.

There's a lot of hugging after Sydney leaves re-education. Sydney and Eddie hug a lot, but just in general. Good for her it's what she deserves. "“Eddie,” Sydney exclaimed, running to give him a hug. He grinned back. “You guys okay?” "

When Sydney and Eddie are preparing to infiltrate the Warriors of Light as recruits, she gets a super strength spell while he gets super excited about it, and they have the cutest arm wrestle in history:

“And how much stronger?” asked Eddie eagerly. “Like lift-up-a-car stronger?” Maude smiled. “Sorry to disappoint, but no. [...]” She glanced between Eddie and Sydney speculatively, her smile growing. “I’d say you’re strong enough to hold your own with a dhampir in an arm wrestling match.” “I would kind of love to see that,” I admitted. Eddie’s face said he would as well. Sydney groaned. “Really? That’s so barbaric.” Eddie leaned over and propped his arm up on the table that had previously held the canteen. “Come on, Mrs. Ivashkov. Let’s do this. Besides, if you’re squeamish about arm wrestling, how are you going to handle going head-to-head with the Warriors?” [...] Ultimately, Eddie pushed his strength to its limit and finally defeated her, but not without her holding her own for a while. I held up her arm triumphantly, like a victor at a boxing match. “My wife, ladies and gentlemen. Beauty, brains, and now brawn.” “Awesome,” said Eddie, in a rare moment of delight.

He's really excited about human magic in general, such an adorable nerd. And again, they really do admire each other so much. Following Sydney's blackmailing the Alchemists: "I hung up, and Eddie regarded me with awe. “That was pretty badass. But do you actually think it’ll work?”"

In the epilogue, Eddie pulled strings to live with Sydney and Adrian as a Guardian, and he's one of the people who's in on Declan's secret. He even chooses to sleepin Declan's room.

I sprinted out of the room and up the stairs, to the bedroom that doubled as both a nursery and Eddie’s room. I had high enough royal rank to finally be assigned my own guardian, and Eddie, in that noble way of his, had pulled strings to be assigned to us. I’d initially protested because I wanted him to stay at Court and have a semi-normal dating life with Jill. Eddie, however, felt obligated to be with us—both out of friendship to Sydney and me and for all the times Neil had helped him. We’d offered to turn the house’s small study into Eddie’s own bedroom, but he always ended up sleeping in Declan’s room anyway.

I'm really glad they didn't get separated by the end, it always makes me happy to think about them living together.

#Rapha's Bloodlines Tag #sydney sage #eddie castile #bloodlines series #vampire academy #melrose twins #va #bloodlines #vablappreciationweek #I think I'm late even in Honolulu #I'm incapable of keeping things short and simple #my outline for both these posts had one sentence per book

20 notes · View notes

writer-akihiko · 4 years ago

Text

IkeSen Boys + Widow!MC

MC and Sasuke come from a village far away in the mountains. Sasuke left the village before the village was burned and terrorised by bandits. In that incident, you had lost your husband, escaping with your twins, Atsumu and Osamu.

@delicateikemenmemes wished their names to be Atsumu and Osamu, so it shall be.

As a message in general, this scenario is to give MC another chance at finding love again, because everyone deserves a second chance at love.

Nobunaga Oda

After you saved Nobunaga from the fire, you realised you had lost your kids

You were internally panicking, not comprehending what this man was saying

"Atsumu! Where are you?" You push this man away from you, attempting to

"Who is this man you call out to?" Nobunaga holds you back, despite you kicking and screaming at him

He misunderstands you, thinking this Atsumu is your lover or husband. He fully intended to challenge him if it were as he has decided that you were his lucky charm

Two little boys run into the tent from behind, seeing their mother in another man's arms

"Let our Mama go!" Osamu threw a tiny little rock at the commander, almost in tears

Hideyoshi lost control on seeing two kids throw rocks at Lord Nobunaga

You relaxed, seeing that your children are safe

After all the confusion got out of the way, Nobunaga only became more interested in you

"A widowed woman with two children who doesn't want anything in return…" He muttered, watching you scold Hideyoshi for putting a hand on your boys. "All the more interesting as a lucky charm."

Atsumu and Osamu were quite scared of him at first, but they quickly warmed up to Nobunaga seeing him slightly spoil their mother

He finds it amusing how protective your sons are when he gets touchy with you, especially when he hugs you close

He finds you quite enchanting, seeing you play with your sons

When he's courting, he doesn't care that you're a widow. He even takes the initiative to make your sons the next heirs if they're interested

Hideyoshi Toyotomi

Initially, he disapproved of you because he doesn't trust you

However, every time he looks at you, hugging your sons close to your chest and afraid of the Oda guards, he's reminded of his mother

"Don't harm her and the children."

He does find you suspicious but it lessens, seeing you simply as a single mother trying to get by

He was taken aback when you yelled at him with tears brimming in your eyes when he pulled your children away from attacking Nobunaga

He sees himself in Atsumu and Osamu, as young boys relying on their mother and trying to make her comfortable

After the whole debacle on his mistrust, the twins started to admire Hideyoshi as they look up to him as a caring brother

They see him as a strict brother, as Hideyoshi tends to move them away from having fun in the stables

You swoop in to tell Hideyoshi to let the twins play whatever

He finds it adorable how you sew coordinating kimonos for the twins

He, at first, gets the twins mixed up.

"Get back here Osa- ATSUMU!"

When he's courting you in his utter denial he starts to see how the twins need a father

And he also starts to see how he needs you

Mitsunari Ishida

He actually helped you when you were crying out for your sons

A few of his vassals found two little boys scurrying around the horses

Unfortunately, Osamu and Atsumu took an odd dislike to Mitsunari at first

They assumed this angel was going to kidnap them

He was relieved, seeing you three reunited

He saw the twins' potential with their interest in horses

He asked for Nobunaga to let the boys work with the stable master

You as chatelaine agreed, and the twins grew to like Mitsunari eventually

Mitsunari would lend them books and they would ask him to teach them how to read

Sometimes you'd join in during their reading sessions

He'd blush when you scoot closer to him, almost feeling like a family

"Mama, can Mitsunari be our Papa?"

"E-EH?!"

You and Mitsunari would blush and turn away from each other

He'd only start courting you when Hideyoshi and Nobunaga said they'd be a great couple together

"YN-san, can I take you on a picnic to the gardens?"

"Mama say yes! We wanna go!"

Mitsuhide Akechi

"Scary man!"

He looks down to see two little boys point at him, and they did remind him of someone...

"Osamu! Atsumu! What are you doing?" You called, almost getting off Masamune's horse

That was his first encounter. He watched as the twins scurry around the stables, pulling horses to vassals and helping out the stable master

With him going off to other businesses a lot, he frequents the stables. The twins stay away from him often

He occasionally gifts the tiny twins an onigiri each, and at the end of the day see two little tots run off to their Mama with a rice ball in hand

Once, you had business in Mitsuhide's estate and the twins were insisting you bring them along

"Mama please don't go to the scary man's palace..."

He also couldn't help teasing the twins, "Atsumu, Osamu, it's too late. I've kidnapped your mother," He says as he hoists you up on his horse

This leads to the twins in distress, jumping up and trying to grab onto their mother

The two are left crying, seeing Mitsuhide trot off with their mother

He doesn't court you as much, but he teases you in these moments, often leaving you red

"Mitsuhide, please let me down. My children are crying..."

"If I let you down to comfort them, will you dine with me tonight?"

Ieyasu Tokugawa

He wasn't that too thrilled meeting you

Neither were the twins to meet him

"It's better for you to spend time on makeup and games instead of a chatelaine job-"

Thwap!

"Don't insult my Mama!"

"Atsumu! Behave yourself..."

Masamune and Nobunaga are hurling over in laughter while you and Mitsunari were apologising to Ieyasu

Ieyasu was just irritated at the pillow thrown at his face

He was also irritated on how doting Nobunaga was to your sons

"Ah, are you jealous Atsumu and Osamu have replaced you as Nobunaga's favourite?" Mitsuhide teased in YN's welcoming banquet

Hideyoshi and Masamune would notice too

When you were learning medicine from Ieyasu, you'd tell him of how grateful you were to everyone for doting on your sons

"I don't mean to intrude, but what about their father?"

You almost dropped the bottle of ink when he asked that

"He's... He's dead. Our village was ambushed and burned by bandits... He fought to the bitter end, trying to protect me and our sons."

Ieyasu internally regrets ever asking you that question

When you finished your story, you got up to leave. Ieyasu grabbed you by the hand, unknowingly acting on instinct

"I... I'm sorry."

"Don't be Ieyasu-san. That is my own experience."

Eventually, Ieyasu and you talked over your own traumas

You felt quite welcomed when Ieyasu allowed you to talk about anything

You even convinced the twins to be nicer to Ieyasu

He looks up to you for being so strong. You were even stronger than him and the warlords

Masamune Date

He was amused by how persistent you were about escaping Nobunaga

He caught you anyway, finding you a pretty little thing

"Mama!"

"Osamu! Atsumu!"

You called out to two little boys who stood in front of his horse

Hideyoshi eventually picked the two up and he also found your two boys amusing

He didn't understand why they stared so intently at you and him

"It might be your eyepatch and your horse. They're quite fond of horses."

Masamune definitely rough houses them when they're not attending to horses

"Mama, Masamune taught me how to hold a sword!"

"And I got to hold a bow!"

You do internally panic, seeing your kids hold weapons

You and Masamune have a playful relationship and he willingly takes Atsumu and Osamu under his wing

Once, you followed Masamune to a campaign as a healer

"Mama, Masamune brought us with him!"

"DATE MASAMUNE, YOU DARE BRING MY SONS TO THE BATTLEFIELD?!"

That day, the Date Army did not fear the fury of the enemy, but they feared the wrath of LN YN

Kenshin Uesugi

Kenshin didn't know of your children when you met

As a widowed woman, you didn't want to be a target, especially not to a man who held a sword at you

You were cautious of Kenshin, but you both couldn't deny how close you two had gotten

Once, you had to leave early and Kenshin demanded you stay. That's when you broke it to him that you had two little boys waiting for you at home

He almost gave up on you, presuming you were married

"Is your husband waiting as well?"

You shook your head, explaining you were a widow

He wanted to shout "Thank GOD." out loud but it wouldn't be appropriate

He saw you as more vulnerable with two young children. He made up his mind. He's going to take you away

"YN, come with me."

You knew who he was. And yet… you couldn't leave. Your prospects of working as a seamstress was too good and your sons were in a safe habitat

Kenshin eventually left without you. He decided he's gonna go back to Azuchi and take you away. He just has to finish this job

However, it wasn't that easy. He saw you on the battlefield, and it was now or never

He took you away and locked you up, realising how many people could potentially hurt you

On your first stay, you cried in the cell, begging Kenshin to let you out and return to Azuchi

"Kenshin, please. Atsumu and Osamu need me."

"I will bring them here if that's what you want."

Kenshin only ever meets the twins after you two had established a relationship

As the twins scurried over to hug their beloved Mama, he regrets in his heart for separating child and parent

"Atsumu, Osamu, this is Kenshin."

The twins were iffy about Kenshin at first. After all, he is the person who took Mama away. But… the twins want a Papa to take care of Mama, and Mama loves Kenshin… and besides that…

Bunnies. The twins enjoy being buried in the bunnies all day.

Staying in Kasugayama means they get to go with Uncle Sasuke

Kenshin gets jealous of Sasuke's closeness to the kids

He eventually gives in and asks Sasuke how to get along with them

If the person who killed your husband ever shows up in your life again, no matter where they stand, Kenshin would cut them down.

You and the twins are his family. The person who tries to take that away faces hell by Kenshin's blade

Sasuke Sarutobi

Uncle Sasuke Babysitter Supreme

He understands your situation, especially when your past husband was his best friend

He asks you to move to Kasugayama with him, and let the twins live in peace

In this case, since you can trust Sasuke, you go along with it. You decided it's best

It was even easier to convince the Oda, despite you moving to Kasugayama

"My husband's best friend works in Kasugayama. I am grateful for your help…"

Nobunaga surprisingly lets go of you that easily, at the demand you bring the twins to Azuchi often

Sasuke offers you work in the castle, but you decided to just work with the seamstresses from home

Sasuke often brings Atsumu and Osamu to observe and study the fine horses of Kasugayama

On his days off, he spends it making sure you're settled

He does try to investigate who terrorised the village

He feels as if he owes you, since he left the village before the terror happened

He wants to be there for you, every step of the way

He does notice that Atsumu and Osamu get fidgety around the higher ups like Kenshin and Shingen

He brings you on tours in Kasugayama, even teaching the twins his secret ninja skills

"Sasuke, Sasuke! Do magic!"

He pulls out his smoke bombs and throws it to the ground

The twins are delighted every time Kenshin duels Sasuke or Yukimura and find it an enjoyable show

He puts in extra effort when the twins are watching

"Mama, Mama, we wanna be ninjas too!"

"Sasuke, what did you do?"

He and Yukimura co-babysit, albeit sometimes Yuki's not that great at it

"Mama, today we helped Sasuke and Yukimura hide the umeboshi!"

Shingen Takeda

He does meet you through Sasuke, but he was the first person to know of your husband

He thought it would work in his favour, but it backfires

"You’re his wife right? He boasts of you all the time…"

You completely shut down, as you grew scared of Shingen. You never met this man who claims to be acquainted with your husband

He does explain that he had seen your husband's trips to Kai, his previous land and had known him

You calmed down, and the twins peaked out from your cape

"Oh? And these are the two sons of his joy?"

Atsumu and Osamu were very shy meeting Shingen, but he eventually got them with the excessive amount of sweets he orders

He does flirt with you out in the open, even making a move in front of your sons

"Don't you agree YN is a goddess, Atsumu and Osamu?"

"Mama's the prettiest goddess!"

Shingen, out of all of them, is the quickest to propose marriage in your relationship

Ah yes, he is an experienced father with Yukimura

"Yuki, these are your siblings."

"Hah? Atsumu and Osamu?"

He fully supports your sons' interests in horses

He lets them watch over his horse when he goes to Kasugayama

They love Shingen's pet. As they play together, Shingen whisks you away

He loves to pretend to be an evil king kidnapping his wife

"Hahahaha! Prince Atsumu and Prince Osamu! You're too late! The Goddess YN is mine!"

"Shingen!" You yelp as he lifts you in his arms

"Let's save Mama!"

"Yeah! With our ninja skills!"

Yukimura Sanada

He met the children when you went on your market trips

You had been acquainted with Yuki from Sasuke before, so you two were… friends?

The moment the children saw what he was selling, they decided to buy the pretty hairpin for their Mama

"Mr. Yuki, can you save this hairpin for us?" Osamu asked when Atsumu distracted you with the pretty fabrics

"What for?"

"We're gonna buy it from you for Mama!"

They got a small allowance each from the stable master in the Azuchi castle, so they managed to get enough money

"Mama, let's go to Mr. Yuki's stall!"

There he was, and the twins presented their earnings for the prettiest pin

"Mama, we bought it for you!"

You were overwhelmed, unable to contain your excitement

"Really? Mama is really happy Osamu and Atsumu!"

Yuki coughed to get your attention, and returned the twins' money. "Buy them a nice toy or book. Take the pin."

You and Yuki grew closer, the twins occasionally coming along

When you and Yuki were alone, Yuki became such a klutz when it came to courting you

Osamu and Atsumu caught on, and since they grew fond of Yuki, they interrupted your romantic moments a lot

"Mr. Yuki is trying to say you look very pretty today Mama."

"Oh really?"

"N-NO I WAS NOT! You shouldn't meddle with adult things!"

He does also ask you to go with him, and dreams of taking you away to meet Shingen and the rest

He even tries to convince you how safe it is for the twins

"Why are you trying so hard Yuki?"

"Because I don't want you hurt okay?!"

He pulls you close, surrounded by the serene forest. "Just… I need to know you're safe."

You nod. "I will be safe. In Azuchi."

You two do get separated for long, but as the war approached, you two meet once again on the battlefield

Yuki is more than willing to help Sasuke discover who was behind the terrorism of your village

When he takes you away, he begs the Oda to give the twins to be reunited with their mother

He would propose marriage the latest, not wanting to pressure you knowing what happened to your husband

385 notes · View notes

virgostann · 4 years ago

Text

What a feeling

Lee Bodecker Series (6)

Warnings- No spoilers for “the devil all the time”, 18+ topics, language, smut, angst, sensitive topics, abuse, sexual assault

(if you’re not comfortable with any of these please do not read)

Summary- A women, Scarlett Clare, is running away from her past and the danger that she is connected to. She wasn’t planning on coming across the town of Knockemstiff nor meeting the Sheriff and getting on his radar.

SMUT ALERT..

I bumped my hip into the bar counter, hissing at the pain as I felt I’ve been shot. I stood hunched over for a couple seconds before I heard the bell ring- signaling we had customers.

I had been eyeing the cruisers outside the diner for about ten minutes. A cop sat in each car and was busy doing stuff either in a book or a computer.

My eyes widened for a split second as the pair of officers walked into a booth on MY side of the diner. “Fucking great” I mumbled as I grabbed my pen and note pad from my apron pocket. “Hello gentlemen, what can I do for you?” I smiled. One of them eyed me as I took down their orders and I looked up at him as I felt his stare, I awkwardly smiled and he snapped out of his gaze. “My apologies..you look so familiar” he spoke, “oh I don’t know a plain face like mine, maybe not” I joked and I walked back into the kitchen.

“What was that about, darlin” I heard as I almost made it to the kitchen area. “Uh nothing Lee, I’ll get your coffee” I smiled quickly. It was busy to say the least.

After Lee had gotten his coffee, he made his way over to the other officers and they began talking. I was on edge my entire shift, I made myself busy so I avoided the authority in this dinner.

Finally, my shift was over and I sped walked all the way to my apartment.

* 2 weeks later *

I had made my way down to a bookstore on the opposite side of town. I was beyond bored and needed something to entertain myself.

As I walked along the sidewalk my eyes caught a slip of paper stapled to a wooden light post. I snatched up the white sheet and saw my face plastered on it. “Oh my fuck” I cursed and ditched the thought of the bookstore. I ran and ran, If they had my picture in town, then Lee definitely knew.

The sun was starting to set as I arrived to the apartment building. My eyes scanned the perimeter and I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw the coast was clear.

After a much needed shower, I made some tea and sat down on my couch. I closed my eyes and rested my head back. A knock on my door interrupted the peace of the small apartment.

“Open up Darlin’ we need to chat” My heart started racing as I heard the voice. I stood up in a frenzy, my first instinct was to climb down the window and run but this whole mess wasn’t my fault. I was defending myself. I took a breathe and opened the door.

“Now you gon’ tell me what this is about” Lee spoke, holding up the ‘wanted’ sheet with my face on it. “Lee I can explain” I mumbled, “I knew there was something off, a pretty one like you doesn’t just stumble into this town cus they like it. No, there was somethin’ off and I knew it once them officers were at that damn dinner.” He kinda looked mad and I wasn’t about to piss him off more. So I sat him down and I told him the truth.

Flashback

“Honey, dinner is ready” I spoke as I shuffled into the kitchen with some bread sticks. “The bread smells really good, it’s a new recipe I tried out” I smiled as I brought out the last few things I had prepared.

I felt a pair of hands on my waist and a kiss being pressed to my cheek. I smelt the strong scent of alcohol right away. I rolled my eyes as I pulled the hands off me and sat down to eat. He grumbled lowly at my reaction and the dinner was eaten in silence. He stepped away as I cleaned up and washed our dishes. “C’mon what’s gotten into you now” his voice entered the once quiet kitchen. I sighed, “don’t start please” tears welled in my eyes as I knew where this was going. “What do you mean Claire, I can’t touch my wife??” he threw his hands up an amused expression on his face.

“You’re drunk you asshole!” I said, wiping my hands off on a towel. “You’re not going to raise your voice at me” he boomed, And... there’s the snap. I rolled my eyes, “I’ll do whatever the fuck I want, I don’t take commands from no man” I spit and that’s when his hand made contact with my cheek. I didn’t let any tears fall as I held it together. He grabbed my chin, pressing his lips onto my in a hard and forcing way. “No..get the fuck,,OFF! I spoke, pushing him away from me. He grabbed my arm and I wiggled out of his grasp, never in a million years would I have thought he would charge at me the way he did.

My eyes widened as I ran into the living room, he was faster with his strides and grabbed a fist full of my hair. I screamed out in pain and turned around sending a punch into his cheek. He grunted letting me go for a second and I booked it into the kitchen once more. My eyes scanned around for anything to defend myself with, I grabbed a shiny black pan on my left. When I heard his footsteps behind me I swung the pan and made contact with his face.

I dropped it as my eyes widened at what I had done. I thought I killed him. I was a murderer now. I stepped over his body and ran into the bedroom packing whatever shit could fit in a duffle bag.

End Flashback

“I did nothing wrong, Lee. I was protecting myself.” I said, eyeing his face as he just sat there with a blank expression. I had no idea I would end up having a heart to heart with Lee Bodecker but here we were. “So you came here of all places?” he questioned, kind of amused. My heart raced as I started getting angry at his disregard for seriousness. “Lee” I sighed, “Okay darlin’, if you just give me his name I can see what I can do” he spoke. “No we-we can’t, I don’t want him to know where I am Lee, if he’s still alive even after-” I started to panic. “Hey It’s alright doll, I’m here. Don’t you worry ‘bout nothin’” he pulled me into him.

I looked up at him, I notice the twinkle in his blue eyes and I immediately just feel myself in a daze. Thoughts ran through my mind of that one night in the hallway. I felt a blush rise to my cheeks and he knew I was thinking about it as the smirk appeared on his face.

My back hit the pillows with his body hovering above mine. He grunted as I pressed my body tighter to his own and I grinded against him. I felt the bulge grow and I smiled into the kiss. His eyes full of lust as we made eye contact. I discarded my clothes and watched in a daze as he made his way down in between my legs.

“Don’t be a tease” I panted and his face looked up with a genuine smile. I couldn’t help but smile back, what the fuck was going on?!? His lips kissed my inner thigh and I threw my head back onto my pillows. “Ohh god” I moaned as he licked up and down my slit, my eyes closing once he put my sensitive nub in his mouth and sucked. My hands went into his hair, holding him down closer and I felt like I was going to loose it when his tongue entered. He then took his finger and traced along my arousal, then slowly entering and pumping. “Lee, don’t stop” I mumbled and my eyes rolling as he added another finger and curved them inside me. His mouth and fingers now working on me, faster with every noise that slips past my lips.

My legs shake around his head as he brings me to my first orgasm. I throw my head back as I try to control my breathing. I hear his clothing thump onto the floor and his hands spreading my legs. “You want it darlin’” he mumbles, watching his cock spread through my arousal and slowly popping the head into my hole. “You’re so wet for me” He spoke as his eyes met mine, I whimpered at the feeling. “You want me to fuck you, hmm” he said, “yes..sir” I said, that word taking me back.

“OH fuck yes” I moaned as every thrust hit further in me. His grunts matched my moans and his hand moving up to grab onto my wrists, holding them above my head. “Such a good girl, look at this” he said as my eyes trailed down to where my pussy swallowed his cock.

“Lee fuck, I’m close” I groaned, “hold it” he grunted as he pumped me at a fast pace. “I-I can’t Lee, ah my god” I almost shrieked at the feeling of clenching around him. “Let go, that’s it. All over my cock, baby” he said as my high hit and my eyes rolled to the back of my head. I couldn’t form any words as my body shook underneath him. Quickly, he grabbed onto the headboard and pounded in me. I grunted and moaned as he chased his own release. Then he suddenly stilled inside me and I felt his warmth fill me.

“On all fours. Now.” he said. I got on my hands and knees, facing my head board. “Look at us darlin’, such a cute pair huh?” he pulled me to his front, kissing my head as we saw our reflection in the headboard mirror. He slipped inside me once more, going slow at first and caressing my body.

He picked up his pace and pulled me up against him, his hand going to my throat as we watched in the mirror. His lips kissing down my neck and leaving little love bites. I brought my hands behind his back and held him to me tighter as he continued to hit it from the back. I moaned out as I felt myself clenching around him and that coil in my stomach forming.

“Fuck I’m going to--” I moaned out as he hit a particularly sensitive spot in me. “Not yet” he grunted as he pushed my face down in my pillows and started going faster. My moans were getting louder and louder. It felt like a sauna in the bedroom.

My hair was in his fist but not to where it would hurt me. I clenched around him and heard him let out a moan. “Fuck Scar” he said under his breathe. My body let go on its own, not being able to take any more. He groans from behind me as his thrusts got sloppier and he lets go with a couple curse words and my name.

He pulls me to his side as we lay on the bed trying to catch out breathe. I yawn and turn my body to rest my head on his chest. I closed my eyes as I felt a kiss planted on my temple.

Taglist: @melli0112 @charmed-asylum

68 notes · View notes

dowoonie-namjoonie · 4 years ago

Text

Not Fine (SungjinxReader)

Paring: Mafia!Sungjin x Reader

A/N: This is all just for fun, I do not own any of the gifs I use, and please enjoy! This kinda sucks, but like honestly I wanted to get something out.

Warning: Mafia type scenarios, gore, minor language, and yandere themes.

All of this started three years ago when you met him. Park Sungjin, the man of your dreams and nightmares, but you didn't know that last part yet. Everything about him was like a fantasy, something out of a drama or storybook You'd met Sungjin at a club in the city, your friend had dragged you down with her, although you wanted nothing to but to stay home and eat shit loads of ice cream. Honestly, you hated clubs. You weren't a fan of the strobe lights, loud music, or even busty crowds. Your friend did what you predicted she would do, she found a hot guy and stayed with him the whole night.

Rerendering you completely alone to drink at the bar.

That's when Sungjin had made his way over to you. He offered to buy you a drink, and typically you would say no, but something was different about Sungjin than the typical guy who just wanted to get in your pants. No, he was different. Instantly, he pulled you into his charm with his visuals alone. Sungjin is a very good-looking guy, you had to give him that. Then, he pulled you in with how much of a gentleman he is, talking you up the whole night making sure you weren't lonely. After all, that's why he was intrigued by you because you were alone.

Long story short, you ended up going home with him that night. Hooking up with the guy you just meant, another reason why you liked him, he knew how to treat you in bed. Usually, one-night stands don't go anywhere else, but what you did with Sungjin was not a one-night stand. God, even being him with one night was enough to get hooked on him, he was like a drug you couldn't quit. For the next three years, you'd be with him, both of you began dating.

Another attractive trait about Sungjin was that he had money, but he never told you his job. At first, it didn't bug you, maybe he just forgot to mention it. Then, it got weird. Sungjin, throughout your relationship, was always protective of you. After four months of dating each other, he convinced you to move into his well-kempt house. You obliged, of course, you lived in a studio apartment since that's all your waiting job could afford. Well, anyway, his house was big not a mansion big but big enough to have at least five bedrooms. In the beginning of living there, you loved every minute of it. You would go to bed each night with the man you loved laying next to you, in the morning you would relax, eat, watch tv, or go on your phone to play games or text your friend. Eventually, you'd go to work at the hellhole you called a diner.

Sungjin was good to you, every morning he'd make you this nice breakfast, talk you up, make sure you had everything you wanted. Nice clothes, a new phone, etc. He spoiled you, but with a rule. You couldn't leave the house or talk to anyone. You realized it slowly, Sungjin would always find an excuse to make sure you stayed in the house, one time your tires were popped forcing you to stay in. Then, suddenly, the cell line went out and so did the internet at his house. He'd said he would get a guy to come out and fix it, but a year went by after that empty promise. Somehow, just somehow, he convinced you to leave your job because he could provide for you.

That's when you began to question Sungjin, you loved this man you didn't want to believe he was crazy in keeping you. But facts are facts, he was possessive and unnecessarily scared of you getting hurt. One day, you got so fed up with this bullshit, you wanted to go see your friends, even go to your job which seemed like a paradise to the hell you lived in. You asked him the question you needed answered the most, just what was Sungjin's job?

The answer you got, after years of dating him, made your heart drop. Mafia, he told you he was a mafia boss for Day6, the most feared, ruthless, violent mafia in the whole world. It explained so much though, his money, the reason he was scared to let you go was that he was afraid you would get hurt by his enemies or the fact he made you drop everything for him.

Three years later, while he was out on a business trip, you planned your great escape. A small, duffle bag housed your belongings. You didn't want to take everything you had because you didn't want to be reminded of the man you were running away from. You loved Sungjin, but his job and his obsessiveness made you want to leave him, you were depressed. Following the big reveal that he's in the mafia, he officially assigned his men to watch you when he couldn't. Twenty-four-seven they watched you, and if you tried to leave the house they would call Sungjin. Then you really got an earful.

Perfectly, you studied each of the men who patrolled the house, studying their patterns of movement, and different shifts they had. You knew the perfect time to run away was 10:24 p.m because the men guarding the back door into the woods were eating dinner.

Carefully, you made your escape, executing your plan flawlessly. That was two months ago that you successfully escaped from your boyfriend's hands. You ran away to a remote town, a place where you were sure Sungjin would never find you. You even got a remote job, this time not as a waitress, but as a secretary for a company. The job was easy mainly you answered phones and booked meetings, occasionally checking people in. Overall it was an easy job, you even had a nice two-bedroom apartment shared with your friend, Irene. Ignoring her for three years made her confused and hateful of you, but after you told her the whole story she gladly wanted to help you escape from Sungjin. You were so lucky for her.

Life was going good for you, so you thought, Sungjin was out of your life and was now just an echo in your heart.

Doing your normal routine, you found yourself at work again, this time late at night working overtime. Normally, no one called past seven, but your boss had informed you that a new client would be calling later on in the night. You were forced to stay, but honestly, you didn't mind all you needed was to help plan a meeting, and then you could go home and sleep.

The building was almost empty when the client called, the ringtone so loud in the silence that it made you jump. Finally, though, they called!

"Hello, thank you for calling the PurpleHeart Foundation, how may I help you," you spoke, a line for line in what you were taught to say.

Silence, pure silence is all you heard on the other line, so you spoke up again.

"Hello? Hello? Is anyone there?"

"Y/N...," a broken voice spoke up, taking you back at the sudden change on the other line. "Dear god! Y/N! Help me!"

You recognized that voice anywhere, "Irene? Is that you?"

"Y/N, Y/N," she chanted, her voice in a sob. She sounded like she was in pain, struggling to get words out. "Call the police-Call someone, just don't come home-FUCK!"

Your heart dropped, nausea bubbling in your stomach as you heard a loud crash from the other line followed by her high-pitched

screams.

"Irene," you urgently began, keeping the phone up to your ear but packing your work bag in the process. "What's going on?"

You were thinking the worst, that someone broke into your house or a basic crime was, unfortunately, happening to the both of you. Life

just wasn't that simple for you.

"Y/N," another voice, a man's voice, called your name calmly.

You froze on the spot, that voice, you knew that voice all too well. That voice that used to comfort you, make you happy, whisper into

your ear seductively, and make you miserable.

You gulped audibly, terror flowing through you. You were in shock, he found you, he actually found you, after you were so careful!

"Sungjin."

"If you want your friend to live, I suggest you come here right now."

"Sungjin, if you hurt her," you panicky tried to get through to him. "I swear to god-"

Then the line went dead.

"Son of a bitch," you spoke out loud.

Slamming the office phone down, you slung your bag over your shoulder, running out the door and hastily to your apartment complex that wasn't too far away. Hopefully, he wouldn't do

anything to Irene as long as you hurried up.

Jogging up the stairs to your specific apartment, the door was slightly ajar. This was the moment, after two months and no warning of leaving him, you were going to see Sungjin yet again. Carefully, you opened the door instantly your focus went to Irene who sat right in front of the door, purposely for you to see.

"Irene," you yelled, falling to her aid completely disregarding your bag in the process. "Oh my god, I'm sorry," you cried out. She was bloody from the wound on her head, legs and arms tied up too, she looked barely conscious not responding to you either. She had been

hit in the head one too many times.

"Love."

A shiver went down your spine, your gaze now fixed on the man sitting in the chair in your living room. Other men stood, specifically his henchmen Jae, Wonpil, Dowoon, and Brian, quietly next to him awaiting your conversations.

"What are you doing here," you got up, speaking through gritted teeth.

Sungjin didn't look amused, instead, he sat in his crisp, black suit with a leg crossed and an emotionless expression. A deadly gaze thrown at you, he was unmistakeably mad and you were the cause.

Still, anger took over you, and the need to correct him on what he was doing overwhelmed you. His silence was unbearable.

"What the fuck do you want," you yelled, hot tears running down your cheek at your frustration and guilt. "Why the fuck are you here!"

"I wouldn't need to be here if you never had left me," he spoke smoothly, despite your enraged tone.

Sungjin got up out of the chair, instinctively, you took a step back even if he was nowhere near you. "Did you really think I'd never find you," he said, picking up a picture frame on your couch's side table.

It was a picture of you, Irene, and Irene's boyfriend. Your family, really, that's what they are to you. Both of them are the closest people you have.

"You left a life of luxury for a secretary job, and them," he held up the frame. Practically mocking your choice of lifestyle.

"Life of luxury," you scoffed, thinking carefully at your words. Sungjin killed people, you knew that, and the last you wanted was Irene or you to get shot by him. Sungjin wore a blazer to cover his gun, thankfully you remembered that.

"I was a prisoner in your house-"

"Our house," he corrected you.

You swallowed the anger before continuing.

"Luxury is not what I would call that. I had no freedom because of your obsessive, possessive nature!"

"I was protecting you." Sungjin took the picture and threw it across the room, the sudden action making you flinch. When he's quieter, he's irate, and you didn't want to fuck with that.

"I had to leave you, there was no other way."

"Do you not love me," he simply asked, turning his head to make direct eye contact with you.

"Sungjin," you muttered out.

You couldn't answer that question, the relationship you shared was toxic and, at times, made you depressed. But he treated you so well, so delicately with love. Yes, you still loved him, after all, he did to you and you hated yourself for that.

"Answer the question, love," he darkly said. His eyes trained on yours, casually he strode his way towards you, your body unable to move under his icy stare.

"Please," you sobbed, more tears flushing out of your eyes.

"Should I answer it for you?"

He stopped right when he was in front of you, his height towering over you making you feel small. Languidly, he raised his calloused hand to your throat making you shutter with the memories of you both flooding back to you. His fingers tightened around your neck cutting off your airway lightly, forcing you to look at him the whole time. His breath lingered on your lips, making you yearn for that kiss you haven't felt in so long.

"My love, why deny it. You love me, just as much as I love you."

Inching his way down, both of your lips met each other. Leaving you both with a chaste kiss and a desire for more.

"Either," he started, as he pulled away from the lips he missed kissing so dearly. "You can come home where you belong, or I can kill your friend and drag you home. Which one do you prefer?"

#day6 #day6 mafia #day6 fanfic #day6 sungjin #day6 fic #day6 imagines

23 notes · View notes

fictionturnedherbrain · 4 years ago

Text

Marguerite

Full name: Marguerite Blakeney, née St Just

Nick-names: Margot; ‘little mother’

Age: 25 (‘scarcely five-and-twenty’, in September 1792)

Born: August 1767

Place of birth: France

Education: Convent school, Paris; travelled to England to study the language

Currently lives: Blakeney Manor, Richmond, England

Height: ‘Tall above the average’, perhaps 5’ 6”; slender, regal figure

Eye colour: A very fluid blue!

Hair colour: Strawberry blonde (‘reddish-golden’, ‘ardent’)

Facial features: ‘Classic brow’, ‘sweet, almost childlike mouth’ with ‘full lips’, ‘straight chiselled nose’, ‘round chin’ and a ‘delicate throat’

Marital status: Wife of Sir Percy Blakeney, Bt. They met at Versailles, during a banquet held for the Flanders regiment on October 3, 1789. Two years later, they were married at the Church of St Roch, Paris, ‘just like that’, ‘without a soirée de contrat or diner de fiançailles’

Family: Brother, Armand St Just (eight years her senior). Parents died when Marguerite was ‘but a child’

Occupation: A gentlewoman. Formerly an actress with the Comédie Française. Also a member of the League of the Scarlet Pimpernel, 1792-1795 (‘You are a member of the League of the Scarlet Pimpernel. The most adored. The most revered amongst all’)

Interests: Society hostess (balls, routs, suppers, etc.); music (operas, particularly Glück’s Orpheus); reading (contemporary novels, such as Fielding’s Tom Jones); setting the trend in fashion (‘She wore the short-waisted, classical-shaped gown, which so soon was to become the approved mode in every country in Europe’); the company of her friends, Suzanne Ffoulkes, Juliette Deroulede, Yvonne Dewhurst

Passions: Time alone with her husband (‘Moments like this, when she was alone with him, were the joy of her life’); the late night drives from London to their Richmond home (‘a source of perpetual delight to Marguerite’)

Character: Once an enthusiastic republican and feted actress, courted by men such as the Scarlet Pimpernel’s arch-enemy, Citizen Chauvelin (‘one of the many satellites that revolved around brilliant Marguerite St Just’ ), Marguerite gave all up for love. Yet despite exchanging the Paris stage for London and Bath society, she still holds true to the ideals of the Republic, even after personal experience has made her detest what people will do in the name of liberty. She does not judge by wealth or class, only by individual intelligence and creativity – and how these gifts are utilised. Marguerite is also very impulsive in her actions, and is often guided by instinct, whether wisely or foolishly. She has a passionate and loving nature, dedicating herself wholly to those she cares for – her brother Armand, and her husband, Percy. Her selfless concern for others has on occasion actually imperilled those she would give her life to save, so forceful is her desire to actively protect the people she loves. Her loyalty to her husband, the Scarlet Pimpernel, has never wavered, and has been tested many times. Initially insecure that his love for her, though great, was not as devoted as her own for him (‘He loved her and went away!’), Marguerite has learned to trust in her husband’s seemingly boundless good luck and ingenuity, supporting his dangerous mercy missions instead of trying to hold him back (‘the noble-hearted woman, whose very soul was wrapped up in the idolised husband, allowed herself to ride by his side on the buoyant waves of his enthusiasm’). She has even taken an active role in the League’s adventures, preferring to face her husband’s fate rather than be left without him (“If you go, I go with you”). If she sometimes gives into the emotional strain, and pleads for Percy to put her needs first, it is only because his love has come to shape Marguerite’s life (‘ the one man who had made her so infinitely proud and happy in his love’) ; from a young girl who thought herself incapable of love, and who claimed to have married for wealth and position, she has matured into a woman who is happiest in the company of her husband, and who will suffer any hardship to be with him. Marguerite has suffered greatly since learning of her husband’s dual identity, but she has also found a soul mate and earned the love of a noble-hearted, adventurous, and intense individual - somebody a lot like herself (“Are we not one, you and I?”) She understands that Percy’s honour is bound up in the reputation of the Scarlet Pimpernel, and that the strength of his love for her is proven by his dedication to others: ‘Nay, it intensified it, made it purer and better’.

Marguerite is not unaware of her physical charm, as it has helped to advance her career and attract admirers who flatter her vanity – but how much of her confidence is natural, and how much an act? Does she believe all that people tell her, about her beauty, wit and talent, or is she hiding behind a studied role?

Actress Vs. Child Marguerite definitely has a pampered ego, and will not let her guard down in public. Her republican philosophy that ‘money and titles may be hereditary, but brains are not’ seems to stem from her own self-image, rather than any political influence: she has only equals in society, never betters. When the aristocratic Comtesse de Tournay crosses Marguerite in public, the bourgeois actress regards her with ‘hard, set eyes’. Yet when the Comtesse refuses to let Marguerite speak to daughter Suzanne, a childhood friend of Marguerite’s, a ‘wistful, almost pathetic and childlike look’ replaces the defiant glare. This is Marguerite’s core: the young Mme. St Just within the haughty, practiced Lady Blakeney, and few are allowed to penetrate her perfect facade; only when she is alone can Marguerite relax, like one ‘long oppressed with the heavy weight of constant self-control’.

Love The key to earning Marguerite’s love is to win her trust. For all her brilliance and popularity, the twenty-five year old actress-turned-lady is emotionally insecure; before meeting Sir Percy, she had already consigned herself to a life alone: ‘I naturally believed it was not in my nature to love’. Why should such a beautiful, successful and young woman have closed her heart to happiness? After her rather unexpected and unconventional marriage, it was claimed that Mademoiselle St Just was a ‘brilliant matrimonial prize’ for which ‘there had been many competitors’, and this can be believed – but how many men might have proposed, how far they got, and what happened to them, seems not to have affected Marguerite. Even when speaking of Sir Percy, in the early days of their marriage, she can only say that she would have allowed herself to be ‘worshipped’ and ‘given infinite tenderness in return’; she does not speak of her love for him, because, at that point, she is not able to recognise it in herself (‘A woman’s heart is such a complex problem’).

Marguerite’s concept of love, as with her support of the revolution, is purely idealistic: she has notions of how it should be, but her upbringing has sheltered her from gaining any experience of the realities. Her formative years were spent in a Paris convent, where she was educated alongside the wealthy children of noble families, such as Suzanne de Tournay. After her education (she and Suzanne travelled to England, at one point, to study the language), Marguerite became an actress, making her debut at the Comédie Française when she was eighteen. Yet instead of succumbing to the attentions of male admirers at the theatre and perhaps becoming somebody’s mistress, she seems to have immersed herself in the romance and morality of the plays in which she acted, waiting for a ‘perfect love’ which might not exist. Percy’s slavish devotion to her flattered her vanity, but also appealed to her romantic imagination: when she talks of the Pimpernel, unaware of the connection with her husband, Marguerite reflects that ‘there was a man she might have loved’, the ‘shadowy king of her heart’ so like a character upon the stage in his bravery, chivalry and anonymity. She admits that she was ‘vain and frivolous’, attracted by Percy’s wealth and position, and takes advantage of all the trappings of her new lifestyle when he withdraws his love. Material possessions and a grand home in which to entertain a new court of admirers, however, are only superficial distractions; as Lady Blakeney, Marguerite is ‘lonely in the midst of her grandeur’.

Though praised for her beauty, wit and talent, Marguerite has always felt secretly undeserving and mistrustful of anything more than token flattery. Her vanity can accept compliments with ‘inimitable grace’, but she is wary of having to give anything in return. Though initially attracted to Sir Percy’s ‘curious intensity of concentrated passion’, it is the fact that she perceived him as ‘slow and stupid’ – or safe and submissive – which allowed Marguerite to overcome that main obstacle and agree to marriage. A clever or busy man would soon tire of Marguerite’s charms, her looks and her witty conversation, but she believed that an unquestioning slave such as Sir Percy would always worship her as a goddess, and bend to her will – which she accepted as no more than her due.

When Percy rejects her as soon as she becomes his wife, Marguerite is lost. She is ‘grateful’ to him, for his generosity, unceasing civility and polite attentions, but cannot comprehend the change in his attitude towards her. Loneliness, fear and a bruised ego cause her to defend herself in the only safe way she knows – by hiding her feelings behind a mask, and acting the role of her own life: ‘she, too, had worn a mask in assuming a contempt for him’. To maintain her dignity in public, and to try and rouse a strong reaction from her husband in private, Marguerite takes to mocking Sir Percy, who has similarly retreated behind the guise of society fop: she tries to ‘goad him to self-assertion’; ‘even amused herself by sharpening her ready wits at his expense’. When he merely accepts her taunts, she tries to stir his jealousy by flirting with other men, but Percy leaves her alone to do as she wishes, ‘to flirt, dance, to amuse or bore herself as much as she liked’, such is his pain over her apparent deception. Marguerite, like a vindictive child, wants to hurt her husband as much as the unexplained withdrawal of his love has hurt her, and says ‘cruel, insulting things, which she vaguely hoped would wound him’, but it is only her vanity that has been insulted. She assumed, before they married, that he would accept anything she did or said. Burdened with the guilt of her rash act of revenge, Marguerite told Percy of her part in the execution of the St Cyr family, trusting that her ‘boundless power’ over him would suppress his judgement of her, and took his silence as a lack of comprehension. Blinded by his devotion, Marguerite didn’t bother to learn about her husband’s true personality, just as he idolised his own image of her; only when she confronts her husband, after a year of estrangement, does she realise that her initial hesitation in confiding in him shattered his illusion of the ‘angel’ he married. When the permanence of marriage breaks the spell of their brief courtship, they begin to find out who it is they think themselves in love with. Percy learns about Marguerite’s human failings through her denunciation of the Marquis, and Marguerite must accept the exaggerated persona of her husband’s pride as his true self.

Armand ‘Her love for her brother, Armand St Just, was deep and touching in the extreme’: Marguerite is mother, sister, friend to Armand, and because he is the only person she can trust without reserve, ‘whom she dared to love’, the bond between them becomes like a lifeline to her. Losing their parents at a young age blurred the roles of their relationship: Armand, elder by eight years, became a father figure and chaperone to his young sister, and Marguerite, when she was old enough, provided a maternal influence in her brother’s life. Having Armand ‘near her to love and protect her, to guard her from the many subtle intrigues which were raging in Paris’ has obviously been a regulating factor in Marguerite’s unconventional upbringing. It is possible to imagine that he has saved her from her own guileless and impulsive nature, steering her away from unwelcome attentions on more than one occasion. Marguerite is naïve and sensitive beneath her cool attitude and arrogant beauty – she needs the advice of others to help her actively confront difficult situations, otherwise she is content to let events happen to her. And when she does act on impulse, to avenge her brother and her own injured pride, she is blind to the consequences until it is too late. Her denouncement of the treasonous Marquis de St Cyr, an unfortunate combination of her own petty desire for revenge and gullible nature, is the event which separates Marguerite and Percy immediately after their wedding.

Armand’s pivotal role in her life, however, makes Marguerite afraid to release her brother and trust in anybody else. Before he is to return to France, she holds him with ‘sudden strong, almost motherly passion’, and pleads with him that, “I have only you to care for me”, when what she probably means is that she has only Armand to love her. Her protective over-reaction is understandable, considering that Armand’s life is constantly under threat as a citizen of revolutionary France, but neither does Marguerite want to be left ‘alone’. Her brother’s first visit since beginning her new life in England as Lady Blakeney can only have intensified Marguerite’s feelings of loneliness and estrangement as a Frenchwoman in exile; her brother is her ‘home’, a link to the life she left behind. Already convinced that she will never love another being as wholly as she does her brother, ‘the only being in the whole world who has loved me truly and constantly’, her sisterly and maternal concerns for his safety are multiplied by her own fears of losing the last member of her immediate family, and being completely abandoned in a strange country with a husband who is cold towards her. Armand tries to reassure her, understanding ‘the reserve which lurked behind her frank, open ways’, but he is not as dependent upon her as she is with him.

Marguerite reveals to Armand the truth of her marriage, and hints at how unhappy she is in her new life, but her pride will not allow her to break down completely. After only a year apart, Armand finds himself locked out of his sister’s deepest confidence, and has to form his own conclusions based on his understanding of Marguerite’s nature. He realises that she has misjudged and underestimated her husband, not recognising that he could be as proud and headstrong as her until it was too late, and that her bargaining on a ‘fool’ might have been miscalculated. Armand regrets the distance between them, but as Lady Blakeney, she will not let down her guard, even to her brother.

Fate

Until she follows her husband to Paris to save his life, attempting to redeem herself by repairing the consequences of her actions, Marguerite tends to view the choices she makes as being beyond her control: ‘Fate had decided, had made her speak, had made her do a vile and abominable thing’. Without the support of a third party to ‘shift from her young, weak shoulders this terrible burden of responsibility’, Marguerite disassociates herself from her actions, in a defensive bid to spare her conscience: ‘What had she done to have deserved all this?’ Perhaps the greatest example of this is her view of the St Cyr executions, and the extent of her role in their downfall. The Marquis was a traitor to his country, a royalist and an aristocrat seeking military intervention from Austria, and this information was known by other people before Marguerite learned of it ‘amongst her own coterie’, but this doesn’t change the fact that she then, with ‘a few thoughtless words’, denounced the Marquis to the Assembly (probably via Chauvelin). Nor was her desire for retribution motivated by patriotism or political ideals – the Marquis’ crime was personal: ‘what her brother must have suffered in his manhood and his pride must have been appalling; what she suffered through him and with him she never attempted to even analyse’. Still naïve and immature, for all her renowned salon wit, Marguerite failed to foresee the fatal consequences of her actions, although her ‘friends’ were fully aware (‘they trapped and duped me’). ‘Horrified’ at the repercussions of her ‘thoughtlessness’, Marguerite ‘strain[ed] every nerve, us[ed] every influence’ to reverse what she had set in motion and save the St Cyrs, but it was ‘too late’. Satisfied that she had done all she could, Marguerite was able to convince herself that ‘fate had merely stepped in’, and that she was actually ‘morally innocent’. Spiteful, ignorant and easily influenced, she probably didn’t think beyond humiliating the Marquis, who had punished her brother, and therefore insulted her own bourgeois background, for being socially beneath his family – but that she did so in a petty bid for revenge makes Marguerite far from blameless.

Entirely free of false humility, Marguerite is equally aware of her attractions and her failings. She complains to Chauvelin about the incongruence of living in a land of ‘fogs and virtues’, and observes to the Prince of Wales that ‘virtue is like precious odours, most fragrant when it is crushed’. Marguerite’s bohemian lifestyle as an actress, earning a living in deception and courted as a republican mascot, contrasts sharply with her strict and pious childhood in the convent, and the dichotomy of the two goes a way towards explaining her liberal yet penitent attitude to life. Whereas there is no doubt that Marguerite enjoys life, as the ‘darling of a brilliant throng, adored, feted, petted, cherished’, with ‘the joy of living writ plainly’ upon her face, her generous and compassionate spirit is easily disturbed by the cruelty and suffering around her. Her cynical wisdom and sharp wit display a pensive and distrustful side to her youthful personality, as she warns her brother that ‘little sins are far less dangerous and uncomfortable’. An ardent supporter of the ‘lofty virtues’ that inspired the Revolution, Marguerite welcomed the new Republic, but when the words and visions of philosophers like Rousseau and Mirabeau were replaced by the harsher realities of violence and executions, she was horrified and quickly abandoned the bloody excesses of France for the security of England.

Class

Marguerite is trapped between social plateaus in ‘The Scarlet Pimpernel’: proclaiming herself a republican with ‘an enthusiasm for liberty and equality’, she is originally from a middle-class background, elevated in her own sphere by her beauty and wit, and then removed from her queenly position in Paris to become a pretender to the aristocracy in England upon her marriage. Sir Percy is a baronet, on the next to the lowest rung of the peerage, but his wealth, good name and novelty value in the Prince of Wale’s court ensure that he is accepted amongst the higher ranks of society (at least two of the League are lords). However, this still makes rather a hypocrite of Marguerite, who, despite professing that ‘money and titles may be hereditary, but brains are not’, seems to enjoy her new status. She accepts ‘jewels and luxuries’ from Sir Percy, in place of affection and a happy marriage, and adapts to the privilege and insularity of English society within a year. At Brogard’s inn, when she and Sir Andrew travel to Calais to warn Percy that Chauvelin is on his trail, Marguerite is disgusted by her fellow ‘citizen’, thoroughly acting the part of the pampered aristocrat as she holds her handkerchief to her ‘dainty nose’ and stares ‘in horror’ at her surroundings.

She and Chauvelin are both idealists, preferring rhetoric to action; when the diplomat seeks to enlist her patriotic assistance in Dover, Marguerite asks, ‘What can I do, here in England?’ Overhearing her confrontation with the haughty Comtesse de Tournay, Chauvelin confronts Marguerite with this typical example of social injustice in the hope that her bruised pride will make her an ally, but Marguerite can defend herself. Instead of betraying the brave Pimpernel to punish the undeserving aristocrats he rescues, such as the de Tournays, Marguerite calls the Comtesse’s bluff with the aid of the Prince of Wales, ‘with a wealth of mischief in her twinkling blue eyes’. As a bourgeois actress, Marguerite has suffered the prejudice and arrogance of the aristocracy, inspiring her faith in the Republican creed of ‘liberty, equality, fraternity’, but her popular reception amongst the London ton, and the Royal protection she enjoys as a friend of the Prince of Wales, tempers her vehemence. Marguerite’s primary motivation is safeguarding the security and happiness of herself and those closest to her: to avenge a brother, she spoke out of spite, and to provide for her future, she turned on her homeland. Money and titles may not matter to Marguerite, but neither will she renounce personal advantages on principle; without ‘her rank, her dignity, her secret enthusiasms’, she is always Marguerite St Just.

#the scarlet pimpernel #marguerite st just #lady blakeney #sir percy blakeney #character study #suzanne de tournay #armand st just #merle oberon #leslie howard

16 notes · View notes

toovirgins · 3 years ago

Text

Le Rêve - Part 8

Summary: A desperate Paul tries to make things right.

Part 8/8. A big thank you to those of you that have followed along, and I hope you enjoy the ending! :)

With the dreary weather came added traffic, and despite the monetary incentive, the cab ride took a little over an hour and a half.

Paul grumbled a less-than-polite “Thank you” as he pushed his way out of the car and back into the rain, which had slowed to a bearable drizzle now. He waited a moment for the cab to drive off, feeling oddly insecure about his destination. The car disappeared around the bend, and before he could get around to feeling silly about the gesture, Paul leaned over and carefully plucked a handful of flowers from the neighbors’ rosebush. Cautious not to nick himself on the thorns, he arranged them in a disheveled bouquet and took a deep breath.

The thick trees loomed over him as he quickly checked both ways and crossed the street. The long and winding walkway seemed to stretch out for miles in front of him, growing farther away each time he blinked the droplets out of his eyelashes. Never had the walk up the drive seemed so insurmountable.

When Paul finally reached the front door, he noticed his hands were shaking. His pulse picked up as he knocked sharply, and he stepped back to wait.

And wait.

Paul felt tears of frustration burn against his lower eyelids. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected—he hadn’t called (reasoning being he didn’t think John would have picked up), and who was he to assume that John had simply gone home after what had just happened? Who was he to assume anything?

“Fuck,” Paul murmured aloud, wiping his nose on his sleeve and turning to go. “This is ridiculous.”

He managed to take one step before the sound of a latch rattled through the air, and the door creaked open.

“Paul?”

Paul spun around instantly, whipping the bouquet around his back. “Hm?”

Cynthia eyed the strange angle of Paul’s elbow as she mindlessly dried her hands on a dish rag. She took a cautious half-step out the door eyes flicking around the porch, presumably surveying to see if anyone else had accompanied him.

“It’s bloody miserable out here,” she noted, dropping the air of perplexity in an instant, though her eyes kept trailing to the bend of his arm that hid the flowers. “Come on, let’s get you inside. I was just making supper.”

Shaken out of his daze, Paul adopted a charming, gracious persona and ushered her back inside with an “after you” wave of a hand. Cynthia spun on her heel, throwing the towel over her shoulder and disappearing into the house. Paul followed not far behind, careful to drop the roses into the bushes before ducking under the doorway.

“John’s around here somewhere,” she called over her shoulder as Paul removed his shoes and coat. “Are you two writing together tonight? He’s been in a sour mood ever since he got back from the studio today. I figured he’d cancelled anything.”

Paul felt a massive wave of guilt wash over him. The picture of John’s face, just before he’d run out, burned behind his eyelids: the mixture of fear and shame and disappointment and hurt. Paul had spent the first hour and a half alone in the studio trying to push the image from his mind.

Cynthia blinked at him patiently, and he realized that she was waiting for an answer.

Paul cleared his throat unceremoniously, neither party acknowledging that he hadn’t brought anything besides himself. “Erm, yes. Writing. Maybe he’s forgotten.”

“I wish he’d tell me these things,” she muttered, half to herself, turning back towards the direction of the kitchen. “Be nice to be a bit prepared for guests.”

Paul shot her what he hoped was a convincing smile. “Cyn, am I really a guest to you, after all these years? Besides, ‘m not hungry anyway, thanks.”

She gave him a playful grin over her shoulder in return. “Right. I’d still like to be a good hostess, even if it’s just for family.”

The way she said “family” turned Paul’s stomach inside out. He felt a sudden chill settle over his body, sending a shudder down his spine. The innocent, welcoming, familial smile on Cynthia’s face no longer seemed any of those things, but instead made him want to curl into a ball, or take off running and never look back. It seemed to hit him all at once—Cynthia, Julian, John. A husband and a father. And his best mate. What had he come to accomplish? What did he think was going to happen? Paul suddenly felt nauseous, and the memory of John’s breathy curses as Paul pulled him to the brink of orgasm flashed through his mind.

Shit. What was he doing here?

“Y’know, actually,” Paul started, taking a step back and stumbling over a stray toy that only made him feel worse. “He’s probably in no state to write, if he’s all worked up, so I should really get going, sorry to bother—”

“What are you doing here?”

Paul and Cynthia both froze, neither hearing the man enter the room, but neither missing the bitterness of his voice, either.

John stood a step or two behind Cynthia, almost protectively, peering over her shoulder at Paul with a frostiness he’d only seen in recent arguments. Paul only stared back helplessly, wordlessly, everything that he wanted to say rendered unspeakable in the presence of the third party.

The three of them stood in that arrangement for a solid minute, no one daring to speak. Paul watched Cynthia shift uncomfortably at the tension, witnessing something she was clearly not privy to. To Paul’s relief (or dismay?), she quickly muttered something about checking on the food and excused herself from the hostility.

“We need to talk,” Paul said quietly, as soon as she was out of earshot.

John’s gaze followed his wife’s path out of the entryway. His eyes flicked back to Paul’s, angry, hesitant. Paul held his breath as he waited for the man to explode, exposing himself and his partner and all of the fucked up mess they’d gotten themselves in.

Instead, John sighed defeatedly. “Fine. Let’s go for a walk.”

—

Paul wracked his brain for something to say.

The ground moulded softly to their feet, sticks and leaves dampened by the earlier downpour and less than vocal. There was an eerie echo in the air, the kind of atmosphere that only exists after a heavy rain, when one is made aware of just how earthly the world is. The sounds were naught, the wind was still, the smell fragrant and sharp. Typically a pleasure, the serenity of the environment only seemed to mock the tension between them.

He knew he needed to be the first to talk. In the context of everything that had happened, Paul figured he had needed to be the first to talk a lot. He knew that John was expecting, even if he wasn’t sure of what to expect, and Paul needed to deliver. Something, at least.

But where to start? Because, “Hey, mate, sorry for not saying I love you back,” felt like a pretty shit place to start.

After two more minutes of walking in silence, Paul started to wonder if a place to start was as good as anything.

He cleared his throat, sensing John tense beside him at the sudden sound. Neither lifted their eyes. Now that he had John’s attention, it was now or never.

“I—erm. I’m sorry. For not saying it.”

John shook his head, but the way his features softened in amusement didn’t go unnoticed by Paul, who suddenly felt like crying with relief. Especially at the next remark. “Shit place to start, mate.”

“Figured why beat around the bush, right? Straight to the point, it is,” Paul joked, unable to suppress his giddiness at the tease of normalcy.

“Trying new things, are we?” John quipped, an edge to his voice.

Ah, the tease of normalcy. Exactly as it sounded.

“John, I—”

“Why?” John interrupted, halting suddenly. He turned towards Paul, his eyes dull with smoldering anger. Residual anger accumulated and compressed into the coals that were confronting him now. Paul felt dumbfounded, and a bit fearful.

“I-Why what?”

John gestured helplessly around them. His voice sounded extremely tired. “Why this? All of it?”

Paul heard the question for what it was. Why me?

“I love you.”

“Bullshit.”

“No,” Paul insisted, taking a step forward. They froze, neither knowing what he would do next. John’s eyes were wide, almost as if his fight or flight instinct was scrutinizing Paul’s every move. After a beat of silence, Paul scoffed and stepped backwards once more. “I mean it.”

“Why didn’t you say it?” John sounded pouty, like a child. Insulted.

“Because!” The word came out much stronger than Paul intended, shocking even himself. He took a shaky breath and raised a hand to his mouth to nibble on his thumbnail as he sorted it out. He began to pace, John’s eyes following him back and forth expectantly. He tried again.

“Because, I don’t know what to do with that feeling. I don’t know how to feel about you. I never have. Even from the moment I saw you, and you looked so fit with the guitar and the quiff and the way you were singing ‘Come Go With Me’ directly to me. And you weren’t, but it felt like it. And I’d never been so nervous in my entire life than when I talked to you after. Because you were John, the lad I’d seen on the bus and at the shop and on the streets, the lad I’d heard about but never actually met. And when I did meet you? It was like everything had fallen into place. Me mum, me dad, school, a career, war; all the things in life that were a drag to me weren’t even there anymore. Because I was in a band with the great John Lennon!

“And I came to hate anyone that had you more than I did. I can’t get on with people because of it—Pete Shotton never shut his gob about all your wild misadventures together, and I’d want to punch a bloody hole in the wall when I would see your eyes on Stu during ‘Love Me Tender’. And I feel so fuckin’ bad to this day for the way I treated Geo when he showed us his first song, but I couldn’t have someone else to compete with for you. I couldn’t. Because I need to be around you, John. I need to be yours as much as you are mine.

“And it’s only grown in all the years. At first, I needed you to like me. Then, I needed you to be proud of me. Then I needed you to trust me, as your equal, and come to me for things and with things. And for us to have the silent little conversations, and to be in tune with one another, and to know you better than I know myself and be known by you. And I still need all of those things, but there’s a new element. Now there’s the want.And maybe it started with some stupid fuckin’ dream but my feelings didn’t stay there. And it took a lot of reflection, to put these feelings into perspective. I've had a lot of time to think, recently. But now I recognize them for what they are. And I’ve never felt like this about anyone before, John. No one ever tells you that when you really love someone, there’s a lot more to it than just love. Or maybe all that is love. But if-if this, between us? If it’s not love, then-then I’m not sure what is.”

There was a long beat of silence. John gazed up at him with an unreadable expression.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

Paul wrung his hands out in front of him, only now noticing how badly they were shaking. His chest heaved as though he’d only just finished a marathon. Fuck, indeed. “Mm.”

“The roses were cute,” John remarked, after a moment. A teasing smile threatened to envelop his features.

Paul stopped in his tracks, feeling his mouth form a surprised “o” as his mind fought for an excuse. Whatever he expected John to say after all that, that was not it.

Finally, he settled on something just as suave and poetic as his earlier monologue: “Huh?”

“Saw ‘em through the window,” he answered dismissively. “Bit queer. But, cute nonetheless.”

Paul blushed furiously, chastising the all-too-large part of himself that craved romanticism.

“I would’ve forgiven you, anyroad. Even without the roses,” John added quietly, his gaze dropping. He gave the ground a crooked smile. “Maybe not for a while, and maybe not all the way. But I can’t… help me self around you. I can’t explain it. And it’s absolutely awful, y’know. It’s been hard for me, too. Because I know that even if you just…” He paused, searching for the right word. “Used me, I’d still come back to you. Don’t get me wrong, I’d be right pissed for a while. It’d hurt like hell, but not as much as being away from you. Not as much as whatever has happened between us.”

The confession was painful. Paul felt a sharp twinge in his heart, almost as if it was the blade that he’d placed there himself. The idea that these past few weeks John had been moping around, ignoring him, reciprocating every effort to ensure that they were never alone, had been because John had thought he was being used. That Paul wanted him, but not in the same way that he wanted Paul.

He didn’t know what else to do.

John breath hitched as his back slammed into the stone wall, but his gasp was cut short as Paul’s lips devoured his own. His mind short-circuited, nothing more in the world existing at that moment than John, John, John. It’s over now, he wanted to comfort, to take John’s head in his hands and stroke the beautiful auburn hair behind his ears and thumb a stray tear from his cheek before placing a honey-sweet kiss on his trembling lips. You don’t have to feel that way anymore. And all he could do in the moment was try to convey that recognition through the kiss.

Fuck it if it would complicate things. Fuck it if they had to hide. Fuck it if it had to end someday. Because right now, all that mattered was John and Paul. As they were meant to be.

John hesitated only a millisecond before back fervently, almost as if he was afraid they would drift away from one another if he gave it any less effort. His tongue was elusive, licking into Paul’s mouth in all the right places but retreating as Paul chased it with his own. Their torsos were a mess of hands and body, pulling restlessly at one another every which way. Paul couldn’t get enough—he was too deliriously happy that they simply weren’t fighting anymore.

As the desperation began to subside, and the boys realized that they were both finally going to stay, the kisses gradually grew light and chaste. Paul felt lightheaded when they finally broke away for a deep breath. John gazed up at him, perfectly picturesque. His cheeks were flushed, lips pink and shiny, his breath coming out in short puffs between them in the shared air. Neither one of them dared speak, as they’d ruined far less important reunions than this with far too many words. The shared silence said more than words could, anyway. Neither had to explain the gravity of the situation to feel it.

Paul wasn’t sure when it had happened, but their fingers were laced together. Gently, as if trying not to spook a wild animal, he lowered them to the ground. Neither minded too much about the rain or the leaves or the damp dirt as they curled into one another, backs against the stone wall. They spent a long time listening to one another’s breathing as it slowed, watching rivulets of rainwater snake from leaf to leaf before pooling at their feet. Everything was okay.

“Paul?”

“Hm?” His fingers traced lazy circles on the soft underside of John’s forearm. His eyes were open, staring at a beading droplet, but they felt locked in a daze that was a cross between asleep and awake.

“Paul.”

Paul groaned at the insistency, a twinge of annoyance stirring in his chest at the interrupted bliss. “Yes?”

“What now?”

Paul blew a long stripe of air out of his lips. “I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “I rather don’t want to consider it. The implications of it,” he rephrased quickly, panic welling up in his throat at the similarity of another “forget it” line. It threatened to bring a whole mess of neural connections that he simply didn’t want to deal with, namely: the awkwardness of the car ride and his resultantly strained relationship with Brian; the tensions in the group and an explanation for their soon-to-be-easing; the way George’s eyes slipped in between them more often than ever, but this time with an air of trauma; how the hell they were going to keep this to themselves if they were so god-awful at it already. Yes, better not to consider the implications yet.

John nodded in understanding. He waited a moment before speaking again.

“Cyn and I…”

As John trailed off, Paul’s eyes shot wide with alarm. His head whipped around to face John with a terror he hoped didn’t present as dramatic as it felt. No, no, no, why was he bringing her up? Why? When finally, finally everything was going well?

John refused to meet his gaze, and Paul waited patiently for the dreaded words of regret to come.

“We’re done for.”

Paul blinked uncomprehendingly.

“I mean,” John began, scratching the back of his neck. “Not officially, or anythin’. But I can see it. We’ve been cold for a while now, an’ it’s only a matter of time ‘fore she up and leaves me. We haven’t talked about it. But… I’ve been with her for ages, Paul. I know her at this point. There’s nothing left.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Paul asked quietly.

“Because you’re not just some bird, Paul!” John immediately flushed, realizing how silly the words sounded out loud, especially in the wake of their earlier conversation. He tried to backtrack, speaking slowly, explanatory. “I mean—I… Listen. I haven’t been the best to Cyn. There’s been loads of others, but it never meant anything. And you and I? I don’t know what this is.” He laughed, suddenly, as if the realization was just now striking. “Christ, do I not know. But it’s too good and too right. And I feel like I owe it to ya—to us—to cut the ties that may be stronger, even if it’s ties of a meaningless institution. I jus’—I dunno. I don’t want you thinking I keep you around for a good fuck and a song or two.”

Paul felt a wide grin spread across his features, and not only at the messy comment. He elected not the mention the way his stomach flipped upside down at the way John had said “us”. Instead, he chuckled lightly, and fished around in his pocket for a ciggie.

“And what a way with words he has. Ladies and gentleman, the better half of the world’s most famous songwriting duo!”

John scowled playfully. “Oh, piss off. How’s this for a rephrase: On account of our complicated and lustful affair of cosmic proportions, I would love it if you considered yourself an exquisite lady of the night proficient in excellent lovemaking and even more excellent intellectual stimulation and is paid with reciprocation rather than meaningless currency.”

Paul frowned around the fag as he focused on lighting it. “Worse. Much worse.”

John gave him a cheeky wink and flicked the end of his nose, causing Paul to gasp and drop the butt end of the cigarette onto his chest, leaving an angry black mark on the shirt. Paul jerked from the shock and swore. John only cackled at his misfortune.

Paul scowled at the loss of his fresh ciggie and the fading surprise of the burn mark. He hastily brushed at the ring, which he now realized was a minute but fizzling hole, and shot John an accusatory (but, regretfully, uncontrollably good-natured) glare. “You’re a child, Lennon.”

John grinned. “But you love me.”

Paul sighed, and for the first time in weeks, he felt utterly, blissfully, peacefully happy.

“Yes. I do.”

#the beatles #beatles fanfiction #john lennon #paul mccartney #cynthia lennon #mclennon #part 8 #chapter fic #ao3 #the end!

5 notes · View notes

madamebaggio · 4 years ago

Photo

Notes: Previously...

Hello, everyone!

I did say I was working on my Jonsa, but I hit a snag there, so I tried writing in other places and this is the one that came out first.

I've been out for a while -between writer's block and other things -so not everything went as planned. I had said -on AO3- this chapter would get a bit hotter, but in the end it didn't feel appropriate and it was already getting really long.

But next chapter is the one! We'll have more insight about Willas and Oberyn and Sansa will start to rediscover her sexuality ;)

****

Chapter 3

Sansa ended up in Willas' apartment. Oberyn insisted she just had to go there after dinner to try this Dornish wine.

Willas had just sighed at his friend’s antics, but assured Sansa it’d be lovely to have her over.

It was a bit out of character for her to do something like that; she barely knew Oberyn well enough, and Willas… She’d had few real conversations with him. Normally they made polite small talk at parties. Those few conversations were, however, more than enough to make her heart beat faster every time she saw him.

All the Tyrells were good-looking, but Willas… Maybe he was just the one that really called to her, but Sansa could think of few men more handsome than him. And it wasn’t only his sharp eyes and perfect facial lines; he also dressed so well. His suits were all taylor made and even the canes he used were stylish.

He was intelligent and kind. He wasn’t one for silly smiles or flattery. Marge had always said he was the serious one of the family, downright grumpy. Perhaps he wasn’t as effortlessly charming as Marge and Lora were, but he wasn’t an ogre. Sansa had even seen him smiling once or twice -generally at Marge and Oberyn.

She’d chosen to not make her interest known. She felt like a silly girl around him, and imagined he thought the same. Willas was always polite to her, and that was it.

But it’d been a while -a long while -since any men had treated her the way those two had during dinner. Oberyn flirted like there was no tomorrow and Willas asked her questions and actually listened to her answers. That much attention was intoxicating, and she saw herself following both men back to Willas’ apartment.

The wine was as wonderful as Oberyn had promised. Between the three of them, the bottle was quickly finished and a second one was opened. In the middle of it, Oberyn pulled Sansa up and danced with her in the middle of the room. She’d kicked off her shoes earlier on, and the carpet felt amazing under her bare feet. Willas watched them from the couch, an amused grin on his lips.

She didn’t remember what happened after that.

Therefore, waking up in a strange room was a little bit concerning.

Sansa looked around the room: it was clearly a guest bedroom, since it lacked any personal touch. The walls had delicate wallpaper, and the bedspread was light green. The bed was quite big and Sansa was happy to notice she had obviously slept alone in it.

She was also wearing a pajama set clearly made for a man.

What the hell had happened?

She looked around again and saw her dress from the night before left on the floor by her shoes. She got up from the bed, wincing at the headache she had and opened the door quietly. She heard male voices talking instinctively. She’d slept at Willas’.

Oh Seven. Please, she hoped she hadn’t embarrassed herself too much in front of them. Again.

Sansa went to the bathroom where she found a hairbrush and some leftover beauty products. She cleaned off her old makeup and brushed her hair. As it was now, her hair was an unsaveable mess, so she braided it. There were also brand new toothbrushes on the cabinet under the sink, so she brushed her teeth.

Finally, feeling as ready as she’d ever was going to be for this situation, she left the room. Willas and Oberyn were in the dining room.

“There she is!” Oberyn grinned upon seeing her. “Just in time for breakfast.” He got up and pulled a chair for her.

“Good morning.” Sansa said to both men, a smile on her face.

“Good morning, Lady Sansa.” Oberyn winked at her, then pushed her chair in.

“Good morning.” Willas offered with a smile, but Sansa could see it was a bit forced. Then she noticed the wheelchair. Sansa remembered Margaery saying that Willas only used the chair when the pain on his leg was particularly bad. He did look tired and a bit pale.

Suddenly, she felt like a terrible intruder. “I…”

“I was about to wake you up for breakfast.” Oberyn cut her. “Willas wanted to let you sleep longer, but I strongly believed you wouldn’t want to miss out on my pancakes.”

“Pancakes?” Sansa perked up.

“With a Dornish touch.” He told her as he passed her a plate, then took his place again.

Sansa cleared her throat. “How did I end up sleeping here?”

“You had too much wine and we didn’t want to put you alone in a taxi.” Oberyn told her as Willas remained quiet.

“Oh.” That made sense. “And the pajamas?”

“They’re mine.” Willas spoke up. “You didn’t want to sleep in your dress.”

“And you look quite fetching in them.” Oberyn teased.

Sansa rolled her eyes. “I’ll bet.” Sansa turned to Willas, remembering the manners her mother had always insisted upon. “Thank you for letting me use your guest bedroom.” Then a thought occurred to her. “Where did you sleep?” She asked Oberyn.

“Spooning Willas.” He waggled his eyebrows.

“Oberyn.” Willas frowned.

“Fine. He spooned me.” He whispered to Sansa, making her giggle. “The sad truth was that he wouldn’t let me share the bed with you, so I had to share it with him.”

“Was that an option?” She asked amused.

“You offered to share.” Oberyn told her. “You said you wouldn’t mind because I smelled good.”

Sansa’s jaw almost hit the table. She turned so fast to Willas she almost had whiplash. “I did?”

There was a tiny grin on the corner of the eldest Tyrell. “You did.”

“And I might be a decent enough man, I am no saint.” Oberyn carried on. “It’d be way too much temptation. Not that you aren’t, Willas my friend, but I gave up on you years ago.” Oberyn patted Willas’ hand.

Willas rolled his eyes. “Oh, how will I live knowing that?” He asked dryly.

“Well, thank you for protecting my honor. However unnecessary that was.” Sansa told Oberyn.

“That isn’t to say that I wouldn’t bed you given the chance, love, but you were way too drunk yesterday.”

“Is this really necessary?” Willas snapped.

Sansa, however, seemed surprised by the notion. “You would?”

Oberyn frowned at her. “You have to know how attractive you are.”

“Objectively speaking?” She asked.

Oberyn put his fork down. “I know we said we wouldn’t discuss this further, but we need to.” He declared.

“Oberyn.” Willas’ voice was full of warning.

Oberyn ignored him -as usual. “Sansa, darling. We heard your conversation with Margaery. That wasn’t right of us, of course, and we know and understand you’re embarrassed by that. But I can’t let you go on thinking there’s something wrong with you.”

“Ok…” Sansa nodded carefully.

“You’re a beautiful, charming and intelligent young woman. From what I’ve heard, it’s hardly your fault you had bad experiences before. And, at any rate, you can use them as a learning opportunity, not as an excuse to give up.” Oberyn pressed.

“It isn’t an excuse!” Sansa protested.

“You’re scared and that’s fine. You can be scared.” Oberyn continued. “But don’t let these moments rob you from the chance of really connecting to someone.”

Sansa got quiet, staring down at her plate.

“This sounds so self-serving when you just said you wouldn’t mind bedding her, Oberyn.” Willas glared at his friend, clearly unhappy.

Oberyn nodded. “You’re right.” He conceded, then turned to Sansa. “I am sorry, Sansa. I have no right to push you like this.”

“It’s okay.” She said softly. Her eyes met Willas’. “You agree with him, don’t you? You think I’m using those things as an excuse.”

“No.” Willas told her easily. “I think you’re young and you already went through a lot. As much as I’d like to forget what I heard, if only because I know how uncomfortable it makes you, I remember what you said. The men in your life were all rats, and you deserve much better. If you need time, take it. Just don’t give up, okay? One day, you’ll find someone and you’ll be thankful you didn’t give up.”

Although there was a part of her heart that felt warmer because of his words, they mostly broke her down a bit. Willas was amazingly kind… And he did see her as a little girl.

He’d never look at her as a woman.

#madame baggio #crackship #gifs not mine #fanfiction #posted on AO3 #modern au #game of thrones #Sansa Stark #willas tyrell #Oberyn Martell #future Sansa x Willas x Oberyn #my delirium

22 notes · View notes

saiilorstars · 4 years ago

Text

The Girl in the Forest

Chapter 27: If I Betray You

// Story Masterlist //

Pairings: Klaus Mikaelson x OFC

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

Requested tag: @queenmj10 @ocfairygodmother @anotherunreadblog @maaaaarveeeeel @stareyedplanet @perfectlystiles

~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~

Chapter Summary: The time has come for Maleny to return to her original body once and for all. Dahlia, however, may have other plans to get what she wants and Klaus, without a second support, will be perfect to reach.

Because Maleny has been switched bodies once again, her temporary face claim is Adriana Louvier.

Maleny silently observed the spell that was supposed to return her to her original body. Her hand instinctively ran fingers over the burn mark on her clavicle. Behind her was Klaus who awaited with an anticipation he couldn't hide very well. He had told her what he managed to do as soon as she had woken up the next morning so they could immediately start preparing the spell for her.

Maleny lowered the paper and turned to him, "You got it…" she breathed a sigh of relief and rushed to hug him, just so excited, "Thank you!"

Klaus relished hearing her soft laugh of joy. He had finally done her one good deed since she arrived back from France. "I thought you would take joy in this," he kissed her head.

Maleny pulled away to look at him, her smile still wide across her lips, her hands finding their way to his face, "Oh I can't wait to be back in my body again. As glamorous as being an enhanced wolf is, it's just not who I am."

"I don't know," Klaus ran a hand down her hair, as if studying her face, "I've come to like this you in a wolf. It's...attractive."

Maleny pursed her lips, feigning offense, "Well, you're not exactly an unbiased party my dear - my original wolf/vampire. You wouldn't find me attractive as a witch anymore?"

"Now I never said that," Klaus chuckled while she deepened her frown, "This is just novelty."

"Yeah? Well," Maleny took on a smirk that spelled trouble, "Just know that you will never be kissed again if I stay in this body," a look of amusement settled on Klaus' face, "And even the big bad hybrid has needs sometimes."

Klaus caught her hand trailing over his chest and used it to pull her up against him, "Do not start something you will not be able to finish later," he warned her, the darkness in his tone portraying for a very different effect than normally.

Maleny took her hand from under his and tilted her head, "Is that a challenge? Seriously?"

"Seriously," Klaus mimicked her tone and made her laugh.

"Ooh, nice one," Maleny rolled her eyes and pushed herself away from him, "but right now I'm going to go get Alton and tell him the good news. I bet he'll be really happy."

"I know I will," Klaus muttered under his breath, of course still perfectly heard by Maleny nonetheless. Seeing her look, he merely shrugged, "I don't like him."

"There's a shocker," she crossed her arms, "You don't like anyone. But the good thing here is he doesn't like you very well either," she chuckled to herself as she started making an exit, only to come bumping into Hayley on the way. Immediately they both saw the hybrid was disheveled and distraught, the fear practically oozing out from her.

"Hayley, what's wrong?" Maleny reached to touch Hayley's arm in concern.

"Dahlia's here," Hayley choked out the terrifying words, she almost in tears after what she and Jackson had went through only mere minutes ago.

~ 0 ~

Once grouped together, all the Mikaelsons' plus Maleny and Hayley began to discuss the events that unfolded between Dahlia (who had managed to control swarms of people including Jackson for a minute) and Hayley out in the Quarter.

"Isn't that the point of a fortress?" Klaus' anger was the first to make an appearance, "It does a better job of protecting you when you stay within its walls?"

For the first time, Hayley accepted he was right but she wasn't going to tell him that anytime soon. "Let's just figure out what the hell we're gonna do."

"What I would like to do is take a strong leash…"

"Klaus!" Maleny scolded him, making hard eyes at him for his snide response, "I think we should focus on strategies," she looked around the room, "because I assume up to now there hasn't been a concrete one."

"I know a little about how her magic works," Freya got up from her spot and walked over to a round table with a silver tea kettle and five full tea cups resting over it. After hearing what her aunt had managed to do she resolved to at least make their minds stronger, "This tonic will at least prevent her from using any of us."

Rebekah reached for a cup as Freya did, and before drinking Rebekah glanced back at the others, "Well, come on! This should work like a charm!"

"You mean we are to drink one of her spells that could very well put us under like it did with Maleny?" Klaus remained across the group, firmly going against the apparent plan.

"Klaus, that was an accident," Freya pointed out, not surprised he would be the only one refusing the tea.

"And I was fully aware of possible side effects," Maleny added when she got up and walked to get herself a cup as well, "That wasn't her fault. So please, just take a drink?"

But this time not even her asking him to would get the job done. Klaus looked to the side instead, "Our minds are far too strong to be invaded by kenning spells."

Maleny rolled her eyes, seeing his plain excuses, "Well mine isn't. And since I'm still in charge of this body's safety, I'm doing it for Yamilet," Freya smiled when she downed the tea.

The only thing that kept Klaus calm despite her drinking a possible trick was that she wouldn't be spending much more time in that body. Anything happens to it she would be back in her original one. "So what we experienced was a test," he moved on, "Dahlia is watching to see how we respond to aggression. She's preparing for battle. My guess is sooner, rather than later.

"Well, if she was watching us, she would know that we have our own army," Hayley tried to be reasonable.

"She also knows where we are," Elijah reminded, "and, given the immense nature of her power, we simply have no idea what to expect from her. What we need is to create a new stronghold, something that Dahlia knows nothing about, a sanctuary from any witchcraft."

"That's a fine strategy," Freya praised, "I offer another. We could use Jackson to trace her magic back to its source, find out exactly where she is."

All eyes went to Hayley who quickly felt the pressure on her building and building until she sighed and gave in, "Fine, do it."

"I'm sure Camille can get her friend, Gia to look into the Algiers for a possible sanction," Elijah announced.

"Good! Then it's settled," Klaus, pleased, clapped his hands, "Off you pop to your respective tasks!"

"And where the hell are you going to go if I may ask?" Maleny suspected he had already come up with his own version of a plan that involved none of them. Those were the plans that worried her.

Klaus glanced back, only stopping to briefly explain, "I've always been of the opinion that the best defense is a good offense. So I'm gonna find a way to murder that God-forsaken witch."

Maleny nervously watched him leave the room before glancing back at the others, "See that?" she pointed after him, "That can't end well. Somebody needs to go with him."

She only made it one step towards the doors before Elijah grabbed her arm and stopped her, "Mal, you have to prepare for your spell."

"But I can't let him go like that," Maleny sighed as Elijah released his hold on her.

"It won't matter if you go or not," Rebekah spoke up, "Whatever he plans to do, he's going to do it anyways. It's best if you stay here and get ready to go back to your own body."

Glumly, Maleny resigned to stay back and attend to her own problems. She still had to call Alton and Amarrah to get them to come over and explain to them what would be happening.

~ 0 ~

Later on in the day, after Cami and Gia had done some research, Elijah and Cami met with Josephine at the St. James infirmary of the Algiers. Josephine was in a surprise to see the place being renovated, as it had been left abandoned for years.

"Oh, this was quite the place back in my day, St. James infirmary…" she remarked to the two vampires, "Vulgar, filthy, loud, some of the best nights of my life, but I assume you didn't go through all this trouble on my account."

"Well, my friend and I did some research and we discovered this place served as neutral grounds for both our communities," Cami explained, "A place where all were welcome and safe."

"And, in keeping with that tradition, we'd like to invite you to cast a spell," Elijah suavely got to the point of the visit, "One that would prevent the use of magic within these walls."

Josephine looked horrified at what they were asking of her, "You'd ask me to create a place where my kind would be utterly helpless?"

"My dear Josephine, powerful as you are, surely you must have sensed this grave new threat?"

"And I am not without empathy, but I have a responsibility to the witches. This is not our fight."

Cami arched an eyebrow, not too pleased the woman was willing to leave a baby on her own. "You do realize that's basically declaring yourself an enemy, right?" she innocently asked, "You're willing to stand aside and allow a poor little baby to be killed?" she knew Dahlia's purpose wasn't exactly to kill Hope but Josephine didn't need to know that.

Elijah smirked when Josephine came up with a compromise. Cami sure had ways with words, he thought.

"Perhaps a traditional blessing to dispel unwanted spirits?" Josephine asked them, "A barrier against those who mean to do us harm? Yes, a blessing combined with a disruption spell should do the trick."

"Thank you," Cami nodded with a beaming smile, afterwards taking Elijah by the arm and leading him out.

"Excellent way with words, Camille," Elijah remarked, still mildly impressed she'd acquired results in such a short time.

"Yeah, I'm thinking of leaving the psychology thing for public speeches. I have a way with words that even allowed me to get to Klaus, remember?"

"Well, what ever you decide I will be there to witness it," Elijah promised her, making her chuckle. She had only meant it as a joke but of course he was always 'supporting her' and whatnot.

~ 0 ~

When Amarrah and Alton arrived at the compound, they found Maleny in the room where hers and Rebekah's bodies were being kept. Maleny had the coffin's top raised to view her original body inside.

"I never thought how awkward it could be to stare at yourself," Maleny remarked casually, her arms crossed, "I mean, not a lot of people can say they have viewed themselves from another person's point of view."

"Is this supposed to be like some weird goodbye thing?" Amarrah came to stand beside her while Alton took the other side, "Because if it is, stop it. It's creepy."

Maleny playfully rolled her eyes, "What part of this was ever not creepy? I stole some guy's girlfriend's body," she glanced at Alton, "Sorry…"

"Not your fault," Alton shook his head.

"And then I committed mass murder with the body," Maleny sighed and glanced at Alton again, "Also sorry."

"Still not quite your fault," he assured, "Before this happened Yamilet had done worse things under Esther's and Finn's orders."

"Still, this entire situation has been beyond creepy and uncomfortable," Maleny shivered and closed the coffin once again.

"Well, I think it's about time we get the spell and get to work," Amarrah announced with a delightful smile, "I saw Freya in the living room so we can ask her for it."

Maleny nodded and led the way out of the room. The trio were a little confused to find only Hayley, Jackson and Rebekah inside with all the needed witches' spell ingredients except the very witch herself.

"Where's Freya?" Maleny scanned the room for the missing blonde.

Hayley and Rebekah exchanged uncomfortable glances, apparently having a secret needed to be told.

"We told her to leave," Hayley answered first, and just as Maleny's face went awry Rebekah added in.

"Mal, Dahlia is channeling her to create these powerful spells. We had to make her leave for now."

"Well, that was clearly something from Dahlia to get you going against Freya," Maleny stuttered, unable to believe Freya would willingly work with Dahlia.

"We couldn't risk it," Hayley shook her head, glancing over at Jackson who agreed with a nod, "I know what she did for your son, but I cannot risk my husband."

"You basically condemned your daughter to the same fate my son had," Maleny sourly said before turning away.

~ 0 ~

Distraught, Freya walked down a street in the corner, still shaken from what had occurred at the compound. Suddenly, all the people in the street started turning towards her, intently staring at her. Slowly, Freya came to a stop in the middle of the road, realizing it was another spell from Dahlia.

"No!" she cried and began to run but it was no use when she bumped into Dahlia herself.

The tall, dark-haired woman stood calmly in front of her, "There you are - after all these centuries I've finally managed to find one of you. Hello, my Freya." When she raised her hand Freya could feel her insides churning with terrible fear at what Dahlia was planning. But when she only made the humans return to normal, Freya gave her a look. Dahlia returned it with a small smile, "Hmm, how convenient that I find you here, mere footsteps from that which I shall take because of you and Nicolas."

Although terrified, Freya still argued back, "We did nothing to you but be your slaves. You have no right coming to take a child that is not yours to take."

Dahlia looked less than interested in what Freya had to say, "Are you here on their behalf?" she questioned instead, "Did you make a promise to your wretched siblings... 'Together we'll fight the wicked witch, side-by-side?' Tell me, darling, how did they respond to your overtures? Did they welcome you with open arms and weep tears of joy at your miraculous return? Hmm?"

Freya knew the woman was seeing right through her at the moment with all her pain exposed. "What are you going to do to me?"

"You always were a selfish, ungrateful child," Dahlia remarked, "And you turned Nicolas into one as well. For centuries, I fed both of you, clothed you, and cared for you, granted you powers beyond anything you could have ever dreamed, and still, you yearn for more, always wishing for another life, never satisfied," angry, she thrust her hand toward Freya, producing a severe pain infliction upon her. As the blonde witch fell to her knees, Dahlia remained watching her, "Soon enough, you will beg for me to bring you back into my home," with another spell, she raised Freya up with a tight neck choke, "After all, once I am done with these poor souls, I will be the only family you have left - apart from Nicolas of course."

Freya was released from the spell and fell to the ground again. She coughed violently as the air flooded her lungs.

"You should know better than to defy me, a lesson your father and brother will learn shortly," Dahlia then walked past Freya like nothing had happened. Freya processed her last words and realized Klaus has probably committed some type of plan that would only lead to destruction. She had to stop it, or at least help him so that it would work.

~ 0 ~

When Elijah and Cami returned to the compound, both were very unhappy to hear that Freya had been "asked to leave". Without her, their chances up against Dahlia minimize to a dangerous low. Fearing the worst, they had all of wolves guarding every inch of the compound. In the middle of the courtyard were Maleny and Amarrah discussing the matters of the location of Maleny's spell-breaking would occur. After reading the spell thoroughly, Amarrah discovered the spell had to be broken in the center of a spirit guided place: the cemetery.

"Are you sure it's safe to go out there?" Rebekah was asking Maleny while Alton retrieved the coffin carrying Maleny's original body. Amarrah was already at the cemetery with Davina, who'd graciously volunteered for help.

"In the Quarter, in these times, no where is safe," Maleny answered with a light-hearted smile meant for comfort. She didn't want anyone worrying over her at a time like this.

"But," a different voice added into the conversation, "there is protection we'd like for you to carry." Maleny and Rebekah turned around as Elijah walked in, seconds later Cami coming in with two werewolf guards of the compound.

"Elijah," Maleny sighed, unsurprised Elijah was pulling this over her. It was very like him.

"I don't want to hear any refusals," Elijah warned her, giving her a playful stern look.

"And I'm also coming with," Cami declared and walked across the room to stand beside Maleny.

"I would come with but I figure I'm useless at that," Rebekah looked to the side, "I don't want to ruin something very important."

"You wouldn't," Maleny put a hand over her arm.

Rebekah looked at her, feeling the woman's honesty in her words. Still, she would refuse, "I can't. I think I'm better here."

"Well, alright then," Maleny breathed in and glanced at Elijah, "We should get going. Please, oh please, keep an eye out on your brother."

"When don't I?" Elijah sarcastically replied then gave her a comforting nod, "But rest assure everything will be fine."

"Thank you, Elijah," Maleny beamed as she looked at Cami, the excitement just bursting out from her, "We have to go!" she pulled the blonde vampire out for the doors.

~ 0 ~

When things took a turn for the worst and Freya returned to the compound to tell her siblings Klaus and apparently Mikael had gone to go up against Dahlia, Hayley swayed to accept Jackson's proposal of fleeing the compound and the Mikaelsons altogether. She didn't feel one good bit about it, even when she had packed Hope's clothes and hers into a bag and Jackson came in their room. It wasn't the best the plan, she knew for sure.

"Hayley, are you ready?" Jackson asked, having no need to whisper since the the remaining Mikaelsons had gone out to St. Ann's church to save Klaus and the apparent new team member Mikael.

"Klaus and Elijah are the oldest, most powerful vampires in the world, and Dahlia's got them scared," Hayley's voice shook with fear, "Dahlia took Maleny's son and I can't let the same happen to Hope."

Jackson walked up to her sympathetically, "It will be fine."

"Do you really think that this is the best plan to protect her?"

"I really do," Jackson nodded. Everything was set to go. They would deviate from the planned spot where Marcel would come pick them up and instead wait for Aiden to arrive with another car to head into the bayou.

~ 0 ~

Seeing the creepy, dark crypt covered in a ring of salt along with other witch marks Maleny didn't quite understand was not a setting anyone would ever pick as a first choice for anything. Davina had gone into her family's crypt and set up for the spell, although no one guessed she had also hid many of Kol's dark objects in there, including the very important, now-working, dagger she and Kol finished before his death.

"Set it over there," Davina instructed the two werewolf guards as they carried in Maleny's coffin.

Maleny, Cami, Alton and Amarrah walked in afterwards, Amarrah carrying in a small bag over her shoulder. She went straight to Davina and set the bag over a small table.

"So this is the spell," she pulled out the scribbled paper Esther had drawn up.

Davina took the paper and gave it a glimpse over, "This...requires a lot of power," she blinked, suddenly hesitant to commit to the spell. She didn't want to do a spell that could put Maleny into a pre-depressive state again.

"You can do it," Maleny put a hand on the teen's arm, "You were able to break part of my curse before."

Davina would've replied 'Because your crazy almost mother-in-law helped me' but felt that would be a downer for everyone. She put on a smile for the woman instead and lightly nodded.

"So, you need to stand over here," she pointed Maleny to a spot across the coffin, "and you have to stay completely still."

"How long will the spell last?" Cami curiously asked.

"No more than five minutes."

"And when will we know if...you know...it worked?" Alton asked next, his beaming smile meant for the arrival for his girlfriend, Yamilet.

"It should take a couple or minutes," Amarrah replied, "If I were you I'd stand a little behind Mal."

"Why?"

"Because chances are she's gonna drop to the ground after the spell. I doubt Yamilet wants to wake up covered in dirt."

Alton chuckled and walked around the circle until he stood a couple feet behind Maleny. Amarrah then turned with Davina, both taking hold of their hands. Cami left the coffin top open and moved away from the circle, backing up to where the guards were, nervous to watch it all unfold.

~ 0 ~

After a bad defeat against Dahlia, the Mikaelsons regrouped back inside the compound, save for Hayley and Jackson who (unfortunately had their plan delayed) were now residing in the safe house of Algiers and Maleny who was still attending to her spell. They were catching Rebekah up with the bad unfolding of the fight they had lost.

"Well, that sounds like a bloody fiasco," she sighed, "Where's Dahlia now?"

"She could be anywhere," Elijah replied, "There wasn't a trace of her left in the church.

Freya, being the only one who was more angry than defeated, remarked, "She's done with us for the night. No doubt, she wants us to take some time to wallow in our defeat.

"Defeat? I disagree," Klaus flashed her a devious smile, "We saw her face. We took her measure. If that's the best she's got, quite frankly, I'm unimpressed."

The most unexpected guest of all, Mikael, spoke up from across the room, "Her aim was not to impress us. She wanted us to reveal our sole weapon, and, like fools, we did."

Rebekah looked between her father and brother incredulously, "Am I hearing things, or did Nik just exchange words with our father?"

"Rebekah. I'd know that wicked tongue anywhere," Mikael said back, almost amused, "What mischief have you gotten yourself into now? No doubt the bastard's doing."

That remark reminded everyone of the ongoing tension. Klaus growled, "Enough. My patience, like this farce of a reunion, is at an end."

"Agreed," Elijah made way for his father, "There only is one question here: What exactly are we doing?"

When Freya saw the discreet glance towards her she erupted into angry shouts, "This was not my plan! You," she pointed at Klaus, "rushed it and made but a single weapon!" she still couldn't comprehend why they would show their one weapon, a dagger specially made, to Dahlia in a rushed fight, "Of course she took it from you, and now we've lost what advantage we had and used up the very materials we needed to kill her."

Klaus remained calm against her shouts, seeing the problem less gravely, "It's a bit histrionic. Your materials are easily found. Let's take stock, shall we? There's an ample supply of your blood. Norwegian soil is hardly scarce. What else? Ah, yes... the ashes of Dahlia's viking oppressors."

"Only priceless relics gotten with great difficulty at a museum, lost due to your worthless strategies," Mikael accused.

In one second, Klaus sped the man against a wall, threatening him with the white oak stake. Freya, alarmed, meant to go for them but Rebekah held her back.

"If I feel even the faintest touch of your magic, Freya, I will end him with a flick of my wrist!" Klaus warned Freya before addressing Mikael, "You don't seem surprised."

Mikael only made a noise when he felt the stake brushing over his heart. Other than that, he was not very surprised by the predicament he found himself in. "Betrayal is in your nature, boy."

"No. I wasn't born like this," Klaus snapped, "Her you fight for…" he motioned back to Freya, "Lovely Freya, the daughter you barely know... yet there was a time when you knew me as your son, a time before all the disappointments, the revelations of betrayal. There were moments when all you had to do was be my father, and even then, you despised me, didn't you? I want to know why."

Although Klaus had nearly broken down Mikael upheld his cold tone, "I don't know. I just... did."

Furious of the answer, and partially overwhelmed by such a simple answer, Klaus acted out and plunged the white oak stake into Mikael's heart.

"NOO!" Freya screamed as her father fell to his knees, burning to death.

Klaus turned back to his siblings, feigning indifference, "Viking ash is indeed rare... but all you really need is a burning viking corpse."

As he left, Elijah and Rebekah now held back Freya together. They had her hands pinned behind her back to prevent her from attacking Klaus with magic. Freya uncontrollably sobbed her father's death. And, although Elijah and Rebekah knew Mikael wouldn't have kept living so long, they both agreed Klaus' rash decision hadn't been the best under the circumstances they were in.

~ 0 ~

Davina and Amarrah were in the middle of chanting the spell that was near ending. Cami and Alton, while both strong, were struggling to stay on their feet under the strong wind that resulted from the spell. Maleny had her hands balled into fists and her eyes shut. Only her hair moved in the midst of the wind. She could feel the spell's power pulsating through her blood, and even if it was slightly painful, she would withstand it all to be back in her own body.

But suddenly, a strange force picked up and blasted everyone in the room away from the ring and into harsh landings, all ending up unconscious. Several seconds later the sound of heels clicked closer, revealing Dahlia herself. She hummed at the sight before her, taking it all with ease, but soon her attention laid on the coffin. She walked towards it and peered inside where the familiar blonde rested inside, still empty.

"Hello again, my dear," she tapped her fingers alongside the edge of the coffin, "Last time I saw you, Nicolas said you had jumped bodies. Now I hear you're trying to do the same...only this time, there's going to be a new destination," the wide, sinister smile spreading across her face would've gave anyone a fearsome tremble if they had been awake to see it.

~ 0 ~

Night had turned to day, and after the previous actions, no Mikaelson had peace. Tension brewed once again when Josephine made a rather strange entrance into the compound.

"Josephine," Elijah came out with his two siblings to greet the woman, eyeing the woman suspiciously. It wasn't like her to come into the Quarter, much less into the compound.

"Forgive me for calling so early, Elijah, but, I've come bearing a message from your aunt Dahlia," the woman declared, "She is owed debts, and since they have not been paid she will come for the next third generation."

Klaus stepped towards her, "She can writhe in Hell first," he snapped.

"If you must harbor hatred, isn't it better spent on the ones who are really at fault here?" Josephine went on, surprisingly calm, "Your mother for creating the bargain in the first place or your sister and your son for running away?"

At the mention of Nicolas, Klaus nearly lunged on the woman if Elijah hadn't grabbed him. Even through that, Josephine showed no sign of fear.

"It's Dahlia," Rebekah realized afterwards, receiving a wicked grin from the woman.

"I prefer Aunt Dahlia," Dahlia, speaking through Josephine, corrected her.

"You dare enter my home?" Klaus, furiously, demanded, shaking off Elijah's hold from him.

"I came to warn you if you don't hand over the child I will come for you all," she declared, though the fearsome aura died down when the spell she held over Josephine began weakening and blood oozed out from under the choker she wore. "Though, I do not detect her here. I see you've used a spell to cloak her. No matter- such spells will yield, as will you. Say your farewells. You have 'til nightfall tomorrow, and then the child shall be mine."

Klaus could see the woman serving as a host for the spell was already dead and therefore made no second thought about chopping her in the neck and decapitating her. The headless body dropped to the ground and there laid the end of the awful surprise of Dahlia. Unfortunately, soon after Klaus' cellphone rang, the call being from Cami.

"Where the hell is Maleny?" was his first question upon answering. It had been many hours and although he knew he was severely lacking in patience, this was just too long for a spell.

On the other side, Cami was biting her lip as she looked back to the brunette woman sitting on a chair, Alton at her side, the woman weak.

"I hate that guy, I hate him so much, Alton," the brunette was telling Alton with the fury only the controller of the body could muster.

"It's alright, Yamilet," Alton had his hands on her head, "Everything's going to be okay now, I promise."

"We have a problem…" Cami finally said to Klaus over the phone, expecting an even worse fury from him after he heard what happened.

~ 0 ~

Davina repeatedly looked over the spell she and Amarrah attempted to do earlier, hoping to find the mistake they could've possibly done. By finding a mistake, they would be able to fix it. But nothing. There was nothing that told them what had gone wrong in the spell and and why only Yamilet had woken up.

When Klaus entered the crypt, she quickly cleared her throat to motion the others trouble was coming. Sensing the same, Cami was the first one to meet him.

"You have to listen," she began urgently, "We don't...we don't know…"

"WHERE IS SHE!?" he angrily shouted at the entire room until he saw the awakened brunette, staring at him, and he easily saw Maleny no longer was in control of those eyes.

"It's not her anymore," Alton stepped in front of Yamilet, guessing he hadn't yet figured out.

"Klaus, you have to listen to what happened," Cami insisted, "Look…"

Cami sat upright near the entrance hallway and rubbed her head, her eyes scanning the room for the others' conditions. Maleny seemed unconscious, lying face down on the ground, near Alton who groaning as he used the wall to get up. Amarrah and Davina had landed near the table of ingredients, now turned over from the blast. Both women raised their heads off the ground in terrible confusion.

"What just happened?" Cami finally asked, watching Alton go to Maleny.

"Yamilet?" he gently turned the body over, able to hear a pulse but who was in control of the body he wasn't sure.

Cami then rushed to the coffin of Maleny's original body, hoping to hear the heartbeat as well. Neither she nor Alton saw the looks exchanged by Amarrah and Davina.

"Yamilet? C'mon…" Alton cradled the head of his girlfriend's body, the heartbeat getting stronger as the woman began to stir, "Yamilet? Is it...is it…?" the woman's eyes opened up and stared at him.

"Alton?" the voice of the woman had changed, but to Alton it had only returned to the softer tone of his girlfriend.

His eyes filled with tears as he realized it was her, it was Yamilet. She was back with him now.

Cami began frowning when she couldn't hear anything from Maleny, "Guys, what's going on?" she glanced at the two witches, "I can't hear the heartbeat. Why can't I hear the heartbeat?"

Dangerous glares landed on Amarrah and Davina next, "What the hell happened here? You had the spell written down for you!" and he tried charging on the two witches but Cami, along with the help of the two wolf guards that had accompanied them helped her keep him back, "How easier could it have been for you!"

"We don't know what happened!" Amarrah exclaimed, equally frustrated and angry as he was, "Yes, the spell was written down but the power needed was something beyond us. Something happened and we don't know...we just…."

"We don't really know where Maleny's soul went," Davina said quieter, for once accepting his anger against them.

When Klaus took another forceful lunge at them Amarrah jumped in front of Davina, "We think someone hijacked the spell!" she shouted and made him stop to contemplate the idea, "The spell was going fine, maybe a little bumpy but it was going fine, I promise. Someone...someone did this, I could feel it."

It didn't take long for Klaus to come up with a person who would be interested in hurting Maleny at the moment, "...Freya," he muttered.

~ 0 ~

In the safe house, Hayley was anxiously awaiting the return of her husband, and to hear word from Aiden. She didn't like the plan they had settled on, but she found it was the only possible way to protect Hope. They would be trying to cut Hope's magic off through a spell that hopefully Davina would be gracious enough to do for them. But she hated the only thing she could do at the moment was wait. She didn't feel any better when she saw magical green vines suddenly creeping into the place from the outside. They grew to be so big they completely covered the windows. She snatched Hope up into her arms and slowly moved closer to the windows, along with several other of the guards. The crimson red flowers growing on the vines reminded Hayley of the previous encounter with Dahlia, thus letting her know what was happening.

"They're dahlias. She knows we're here," she told the to others, "We need to spread out, now!" the guards didn't waste a minute in doing so, spanning around the outside to fight against the witch.

After trying an unsuccessful phone call from the cellphone, she tried using the landline, hoping to get one of the Mikaelsons' to pick up. However, she came up with the same results.

"I need you to go get help," she called the nearest wolf from the outside, "Now, please!"

Hayley only had a minute to think before she heard the cursed tune of Dahlia's carrying in from the entrance. She picked up Hope again, the baby obliviously chewing on her favorite teddy bear, and began to pace again. When she saw Dahlia finally make an appearance, she stopped and glared at the woman.

"What a beauty," Dahlia remarked of Hope, meaning to step inside only to realize the thick line of sand spread over the doorway, "I sense by entering, you would have me at a considerable disadvantage."

Although scared beyond belief, Hayley made the menacing threat, "Why don't you come on in? I would love to show you some hybrid hospitality."

Dahlia took the threat with amusement, "I only came to chat."

"Fine: if you lay a finger on her, I swear I will make you suffer in ways even your evil mind can't imagine."

Dahlia laughed, waving a hand in pure calmness, "Hayley, is it? I have no quarrel with you. Frankly, I think your anger should be directed at the Mikaelsons. After all, it is because of them that I'm here for your child. It was their mother who made the bargain, it was their sister and their firstborn nephew who ran from me when they belonged to me."

"Well, if you're as the big bitch they made you out to be I don't fault them for running," Hayley snapped.

"I feel...very sorry for you," Dahlia flashed a light smile, "You and the other one, Maleny. Both of you were flung into this world and have suffered because of this family. Unfortunately, her loss will now be your loss, and if you're not careful your own death as well."

"I am not afraid of you," Hayley declared, her mother fury masking her fear, "You are not taking my daughter."

Dahlia tilted her head, "I admire your ferocity to save your child, certainly not like the last child's mother I took."

"That's because she wasn't there! But I'm sure if she was she would have fought in the same way she is now," Hayley angrily said.

"Perhaps," Dahlia consented and dug a hand into her pocket, "which is why I came to strike a deal with you. Clearly, you are the most level-headed of all these people at the moment."

"I'm not interested in anything you have to say," Hayley turned away, intending on walking away.

"Not even one that could would allow you to keep your daughter?" the question made Hayley freeze in her tracks. Dahlia smirked as the woman slowly turned back, "You are right, I have no right in taking this child, but I must since I need power to break this sleeping spell. But, your child is not the only source I can use. I will let you keep your daughter if, and only if, you turn in either Freya or Nicolas Mikaelson to me."

Hayley's eyes widened in horror, "Are you...out of your mind? I won't turn in anyone to you."

"Now, my suggestion would be to turn in Freya," Dahlia said calmly, acting as if Hayley hadn't yet said anything, "She's the closest, clearly, and she was never truly part of the family. But, if you see her better suited to stay, bring in Nicolas. With enough power you can break his cloaking spell and bring him here. And if it's the mother's rage you wish to avoid, have no fear, it's all taken care of," she pulled out a small red pendant necklace from her pocket, much like Freya's blue pendant where she had Finn's soul inside.

Hayley's eyes narrowed in on the pendant, trying to figure out what it meant, along with Dahlia's words. She clutched Hope closer to her, "What's that?" she finally decided to ask.

"Imagine it as a little container - it holds Maleny's soul for the moment," Dahlia had a wicked smile stretching across her face, like this was all just a game for her.

"What...what does that mean?" Hayley's insides churned at the idea of what Dahlia could've done to her friend.

"It means Maleny will no longer be a problem if you wish to turn in her son."

"What did you do to my friend!?" Hayley snarled and stalked towards Dahlia, "I swear to God you will regret it if you hurt her, and not by me, but by someone else who's a bit stronger and more angry."

Dahlia put away the pendant back into her pocket, and spoke her last words before leaving, "You have until nightfall tomorrow to make a decision and act on it. Goodbye."

~ 0 ~

As the coffin with Maleny's empty body was placed back into the safe room of the compound, Klaus raged outside in the corridor, Elijah and Rebekah listening from beside.

"It was Freya!" he was shouting, making erratic hand gestures, "She's angry I killed Mikael so she sought revenge!"

"I don't think Freya would do that," Rebekah spoke up rather sure of herself. Klaus stopped pacing to give her a dagger glare, "It doesn't add up," Rebekah insisted, "Ever since Freya got here she's said over and over how she wanted to help Mal."

"Rage makes one act out of order, Rebekah," Klaus snapped.

"Speaking from experience then," Elijah remarked afterwards, earning himself a glare as well.

"This isn't funny! Do you know, out of all this, I am most tired with having to deal with Maleny getting caught in our crossfires?" Klaus' question made the other two siblings stay quiet, allowing the guilt to fill up, "Ever since she came back she has only had one purpose, to find the corpse that would break her spell. I haven't been able to help her because I've been doing this! And, yet, somehow, she's gotten the worst of it."

Elijah could see the pain seeping through his brothers hard words and felt sympathy for him, "Then let all this petty paranoid and stand with us. We will get Maleny back and protect Hope."

"If by "us" you mean you and Freya, then I will not be standing with you."

Elijah sighed, "She is the best chance we have to save your child, not to mention the needed power to help Mal."

"We need her, Niklaus - Freya is our family. If you cannot see the greater picture here-"

"You see only around the next curve in the road! I am looking from above. Freya gave herself away when she complained of our single weapon to kill Dahlia. Now, I know there is a way to defeat our hated enemy without her."

Rebekah rolled her eyes, "So enlighten us already and we will do everything in our power to help you!"

"Forsake Freya, and I will let you in!"

Elijah had reached his patience with Klaus and began to rise in volume, "This is insane! Hope is also our family. Now, if you continue to walk this path, you will lead her towards harm. And do not fail to understand me when I say this to you - I will do whatever it takes to prevent this."

"So will I. So, the choice remains yours, brother - Freya, or me," Klaus gestured with open arms before walking past them. He didn't care who stood by him, or who didn't. He would get Maleny back from wherever she was, all in the meanwhile of taking down Dahlia for Hope.

~ 0 ~

After finally seeing Hayley's calls, Elijah made it to the Algiers to hear about the events that had unfolded.

"Of course I tried to call you, Elijah!but Hayley was fuming, "But since Dahlia was able to take down both Klaus and Mikael, I'm guessing that a cell phone tower was a piece of cake."

"And where were the wolves who stood guard?"

"Getting their asses handed to them by Dahlia, just like Klaus did."

And at that moment, Klaus made an entrance as well. Surprised by his presence, Elijah questioningly looked at Hayley.

"I called both of you," she explained, suddenly quieter, "Dahlia is willing to make a deal in order for us to keep Hope."

"Oh, and I imagine the price is extra high," Klaus sarcastically smiled.

"Either we turn in your sister, Freya, or your son, Nicolas or she comes for Hope."

The smile was quickly gone from Klaus' face, and replaced with fury, "And you agreed!?"

"Yes," it was Hayley's turn to be sarcastic, "because if I had agreed then I would definitely be telling you about the deal in the first place," her tone then shifted to a soft, stern one, "I want my daughter safe, Klaus, but the cost of staying here will be too high for your family. Also," she knew her next words would probably bring the tip of the iceberg, "I don't understand how, but...she has Maleny trapped in some type of pendant necklace."

"She took Maleny!?" Klaus roared, only this time there was no one to attack.

Hayley sighed, "Look, with everything that's going on, we have to go," she received the expected alarmed, confused faces of the brotherS so she quickly added in, "Jackson is out getting supplies, and then we're taking the wolves and we're headed to the Bayou."

"The swamp?" Klaus arched an eyebrow, completely unamused with the silly plan, "So my child can be protected by the very wolves Dahlia so easily defeated? Absolutely not!"

Frustrated, Hayley marched up to him, coming face to face, "You know, I am so over taking advice from you, Klaus. All it has done so far is put Hope in danger. From now on, I am going to do what I want to do. We're leaving."

He shoved her back before she could leave the place, "You're not going anywhere unless I tell you to."

"I am not your prisoner, Klaus!"

Elijah sighed, trying to break them apart, "Both of you, please- we're playing into Dahlia's hands."

"Not doing as I say plays into her hands!" Klaus snapped, "While you two have been kow-towing to Freya and devising ways to flee with your tail between your legs, I've been forging a new path. I know what Freya was planning, and I know how to kill Dahlia.

But suddenly, they heard Jackson's booming voice calling out for Klaus. A couple of seconds later, he came in holding Aiden's dead body over his shoulders with a werewolf guard behind.

"Oh, my God," Hayley blinked when Aiden was placed down on a table. The corpse was marred in what looked like claw marks and had his heart taken out.

"Klaus made Aiden spy on us. Instead, he told me everything," Jackson turned to Klaus, fully accusing him, "so you killed him!"

Klaus only had a second to look over the corpse when Hayley was already accusing him as well.

"You killed one of the wolves sworn to protect our daughter?" she frowned.

Seeing all the accusing faces, and thinking it over for a minute, Klaus went with, "So what if I did? This is what happens to anyone who dares cross me!"

The werewolf that had come in with Jackson made a remark, "just give us the word, Jackson."

"Yes! Come and have a go!" Klaus shouted, motioning them to have at it, "But you'll be putting your life on the line for one who is all too willing to betray you. Perhaps this never would have happened if he'd had a real Alpha."

Jackson lost it and lunged for him, punching him across the face. In retaliation, Klaus sent Jackson backwards, into other wolves that had come in from the commotion. Hayley tried getting in to defend Jackson but suffered a blow to the stomach and flung to the side. It wasn't until Elijah put himself between Klaus and Jackson that things froze.

"Do you wish to die?" Elijah darkly inquired from Jackson.

Furious, Hayley got up and shoved Elijah back, "You wanna kill me, too, Elijah?"

Elijah moved back to where Klaus stood, "If you come at him, you come at me."

Klaus smirked with such a pleasant outcome, "You lot should make better use of your time. I suggest burying your dead."

"GET OUT!" Hayley screamed, violently pointing at them to the doors.

Elijah sighed and glanced at his brother, "Niklaus, you mentioned a plan. I recommend you begin. Hayley and Hope are safe for the time being and not going anywhere."

With a fake smile, Klaus nodded, "Shan't be long," he promised and calmly walked off.

~ 0 ~

In Marcel's apartment, he and Rebekah were discussing what apparently had happened to Aiden. And though she knew her brother perfectly, Rebekah was still stunned of the news.

"I can't believe this is happening. My brother's lost his bloody mind!" she exclaimed, slumping back against the couch, "I don't know whether to blame this on what happened to Mal, I mean...did his anger really drive him to do this?"

"You really think those wolves are gonna fight to protect Hope now?" Marcel asked the winning question, one that left Rebekah deeply pondering of the consequences Klaus' action would bring upon them.

"He ruins everything he touches! Turns everyone against us!" Rebekah raged and shook her head. "Honestly, sometimes I don't understand how Maleny can stand him!" But then she got to wondering if Maleny had been around, would he still have done such an outrageous thing?

Suddenly, Davina appeared by the entrance, teary eyed from the catastrophe, "Marcel?"

"We just heard," Marcel went for yer, "Is Josh with you?"

"No," she shook her head, "When Jackson came to get Aiden's body, he just took off."

"D- D, I'm so sorry," Marcel took her into a hug, letting her cry for a little.

Davina pulled herself together and stepped back, "I brought something for you," she dug into her purse and pulled out the gold dagger she and Kol finished.

Rebekah caught sight of the familiar dagger and gaped, "Is that what I think it is?"

Davina nodded, "The dagger Kol and I made. I want you to use it," she looked at Marcel, "Mal's gonna have to forgive me but I want you to put Klaus down."

Without saying a word, Marcel took the dagger from her, glancing at Rebekah to see what she wanted to do with it.

~ 0 ~

Amarrah and Cami had been going through Maleny's room in search of her mother's spell book. The idea was to find to a spell that would either locate Maleny's whereabouts, or bring her back from wherever she was. Amarrah squealed when she found the book in one of the drawers set against a wall.

"Aha! Yes!" she cheered and turned back to Cami, "Got it!"

Cami was relieved to see the book back and motioned for the witch to follow her out. When they did, they caught Klaus heading into his art room. The two women exchanged concerned looks, and after a moment they walked for the art room them selves.

Klaus was lurking through his things when he heard one of them clearing their throat. He was slightly confused to see them both smirking at him. "Can I help you both?" he asked the empty, sarcastic question.

"We've been thinking," Amarrah announced, ignoring the loud scoff he gave in response, "about the whole Aiden thing, and we have something to tell you."

"I believe everyone else has covered the basics of insults and whatnot," Klaus rolled his eyes.

"Why are you lying?" Cami sharply asked, starting him, "No one is here but us. We're trying to help you and you lying does no good."

"I'm not lying," Klaus frowned.

"It doesn't make sense," Amarrah continued, "None of it does. See, Elijah thinks you did it because Aiden betrayed you, but Rebekah thinks it's because of what happened to Mal."

"Yes," Klaus slowly, and darkly, said to the women, meaning on scaring them.

Cami took a step towards him, smirking even wider, "Liar, liar, pants on fire. We don't believe you, so just stop and tell us what it is you're planning."

"You have us, Alton and even Yamilet who's craving for revenge against your family," Amarrah reminded him, "Tell us."

Klaus considered the many things he could tell them, but never the true plan. He did think, however, of one detail they would be perfect in working at.

"Dahlia intercepted the spell you tried earlier," he looked over at Amarrah, "She placed Maleny's soul into a pendant necklace much like the one Freya wears around her neck. Figure a spell to get Maleny back."

Amarrah blinked, her mind racing to process the horrible news. Cami, on the other hand, pulled herself together rather fast in order to think.

"We have to know why she did it first and with what spell."

"She meant it as part of a deal she made with Hayley, which she didn't take clearly," Klaus turned back to his things, "Get Mal back, that's your task. The rest is for me."

But at that moment, Elijah strode into the room, "You put them in the paint," he accused, "Father's ashes, the earth from sacred ground, all hidden in plain sight."

Klaus turned back in anger, "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be guarding Hayley."

"She's gone," Elijah declared rather calmly despite what was to come next, "She and Jackson took Hope, and you will not find them, brother."

"You helped Hayley escape? With my daughter?" the anger settled instantaneously over Klaus.

Cami was horrified to hear Elijah had done such a thing, especially without even talking to someone about it, "Elijah…" she whispered.

"Someone had to protect that child," Elijah began but Klaus has fully vamped-out and shoved him back until he was practically holding him over the balcony rail.

"HOW DARE YOU?"

Elijah grabbed Klaus' arm and twisted it to turn him around, shoving him back into the room. Klaus ended crashing through his tables.

"Cami…" Amarrah was horrified, and frankly scared, of the sight before them. The blonde gently pushed her out of the room and considered the idea of going in to help, but...she wasn't quite sure which brother to help. Klaus had his reasons, but Elijah was at a disadvantage due to his lack of knowledge about the truth.

Klaus had come back and thrown Elijah across the room then sped over to continue, "I'm a hybrid, Elijah. Why provoke a fight you cannot win?"

Elijah didn't say a word back and instead pulled out the golden dagger and jammed it through Klaus' heart. The hybrid was so caught off guard he didn't have a moment to think and pull the dagger when it already started taking effect.

"Elijah!" Cami screamed in both horror and anger. She didn't think twice before speeding over to take the dagger out herself.

"No, Cami!" Elijah yanked her back but the blonde was willing to fight him for it. She punched him in the face with all her might, sending him a decent amount of distance away.

"Amarrah!" Cami called and motioned her with a nod to get the dagger.

But Amarrah was suddenly grabbed by Rebekah and Freya from behind. She dropped the spell book and struggled against the two women.

"What the hell is wrong with you!?" Cami meant to go for the two sisters and help Amarrah when Elijah was back on his feet and grabbed her from behind.

All in the meanwhile, the desiccation was taking full effect over Klaus. He had fallen to his knees and could only watch the last of the events in struggle.

"Cami, just stop!" Elijah was in and full struggle against the blonde in his arms.

Cami was jumping and making attempts to punch him from behind. She was beyond furious with the recent decisions that had apparently been taken without a word of consultation with her. After all that Elijah had told her about being part of them, a part of their family, she felt she was owed at least that much.

"CAMI!"

"NO!" Cami screamed and elbowed Elijah harshly, making him pull back. She sped towards the now desiccated Klaus on the floor, however Elijah got to her first and, with an immense pain in his heart, snapped her neck.

"No!" Amarrah exclaimed, teary eyed, as she watched her friend drop to the floor with a thud.

Elijah didn't look at all pleased with the happenings. His own teary eyes had blurred his vision, and though it hurt him, he stood by his actions with all the consequences that would follow.

#ocappreciation #the originals #klaus mikaelson #fd: the originals #klaus mikaelson imagines #the originals fics #klaus mikaelson fics #the originals imagines #tvd #tvd fics #tvd imagine #oc: Maleny Rowan #fic: the girl in the forest

10 notes · View notes