#if i were to celebrate turning a quarter of a century old what would that even look like?

[readymades2002]

i turn 25 in almost two months. christ

[littledovesnow]

the sound of snow

request: coriolanus with a girlfriend (wife in this case) who has hearing damange from the war

word count: 2.2k

content warnings: coriolanus being kinda awful in his speech but it's canon sooo, lucky flickerman trying to make a joke (spoiler: it doesn't land well), i think that's it?

a/n: ok i am not d/Deaf/HoH but i do have friends and former classmates who are, and i've done research before writing this. please correct me if i am wrong about anything. i left some things vague (such as hearing loss level), but overall i think it's decent?

also italics are when there's sign language being used :)

also also i had like three title ideas for this but i feel like they're all so bad but i liked this one the best

-----

Coriolanus had first met you back when you were both still wet behind the ears, unsure of how to navigate life after the Dark Days. His family had taken a direct hit when District 13 was no longer, his family’s fortune plundering into the depth unknown. Your family, however, had to face a different setback: a few rather close bomb blasts had stolen a majority of your hearing.

Coming from an affluent family, you were able to afford a private tutor growing up, teaching you and your family sign language, though as you grew old enough you were fit for a hearing aid in the left ear—the only one with enough hearing left to make it worthwhile.

All the while, you and Coriolanus never turned your backs on each other, choosing to let each other in on your trials and tribulations, knowing secrets were safe between the two of you. He had thus learned sign language from being in your home so often, Tigris and the Grandma’am having picked up on some of the more common phrases.

When you were both of age to begin at the Academy, your father fought tooth and nail with the Dean to ensure you were well-equipped with an interpreter when necessary, though you often went without one as you grew tiresome of the stares from your classmates.

During the 10th Annual Hunger Games, you say alongside Coriolanus as you two watched the tributes battle for victory, both celebrating when Lucy Gray was crowned the victor, both unaware of what fate waited your boyfriend the following day.

His stint in District 12 was something you two rarely spoke on, choosing to forget those few disastrous months while you were separated, you back in the Capitol studying at University while Coriolanus learned the hard way what it meant to be a Peacekeeper, to learn what it feels like to betray a friend, to learn what true power felt like.

Dr. Gaul had spoken to you prior to calling Coriolanus back to the Capitol, wanting your input if he would be a considerable candidate for her Gamemaker Apprenticeship, to which you informed her it was one of the biggest honors he would have wished for. Thus, Coriolanus was recalled back to the Capitol, back to you, where he stood alongside Dr. Gaul to prepare for years of Hunger Games, eventually landing as a true Gamemaker as Dr. Gaul began to take steps back in preparation for her retirement.

One day, however, Coriolanus had told her he was interested in becoming Panem’s next president, with Felix Ravinstill gone and no other heirs of the title, an election would take place. It was no surprise to the Head Gamemaker when the blonde brought the idea up, having seen him yearn and hunger for the coveted presidential position since he was fresh out of the Academy.

It came as no shock when he was announced at the Panem’s next president, you alongside of him as the First Lady. The country never knew what would become of the young couple, stars and revenge in their eyes.

-----

Coriolanus knew where he could find you once he returned from the Citadel, having met with Dr. Gaul for the upcoming 25th Hunger Games. He wanted them to be more of a spectacle than usual, to commemorate the quarter century since the end of the war.

He ignored the Avox who had opened the door to the private wing of the mansion, ignored the Avox who had his usual glass of whiskey waiting on a silver platter.

Opening the door to the greenhouse, Coriolanus’ eyes lit up as he saw you carefully pruning the rose bush planted in memorial of the Grandma’am. “Love?”

You looked up, and Coriolanus smiled when he realized your hearing aid was still in. You usually chose not to wear it while at home, preferring the comfortable silence from time to time.

“How was your day?” He asked, helping you untie the gardening smock you wore to protect the clothing underneath.

“It was fine, uneventful.” You replied, looking at the garden around the two of you. “How was Volumnia?”

Coriolanus was still gobsmacked that Dr. Gaul allowed his wife to call her by her first name, only a select few Capitol citizens were granted that honor, though he was one of them.

“She misses you, asked that you stop by sometime for lunch.” Coriolanus mused, plucking a rose out of the bunch in the vase. “Maybe you can help her come up with some new strategies for The Games, she loved your idea of stocking some food in the middle.”

You felt your cheeks heat up, not expecting the silly idea of arming the tributes with food to be such a hit in the Captiol. Betting had been at an all-time high for the tributes who had been able to get their hands on the stale, tasteless protein bars.

“I’ll see if she’s available on Thursday.” You knew the mad scientist would make room any day to meet with you. She had a soft spot for you, no one was quite sure why.

“You can ask her this evening, since we have that awful gala to start preparing for The Games.”

You looked at your husband, clearly forgetting about the gala. “I forgot that was tonight. I wouldn’t have pruned the roses if I had known.”

Coriolanus, who was cold-hearted and strict in public, simply waved off the nonissue. “You wore gloves, a smock, you look as beautiful as ever.”

You pressed your lips to his, disappearing to the bathroom for a shower prior to getting ready.

-----

 Attending Capitol galas and evening events as First Lady of Panem was something you weren’t sure you would ever get used to. Cameras flashing, various news outlets trying to get a snippet of you and Coriolanus talking, microphones in your faces.

Not that they would get anything, as Coriolanus was only going to give hints at his next political plans, life events, anything really, to Lucky Flickerman, who he had become rather close with following his mentorship in the Academy.

“D’you want anything to drink?” Coriolanus asked, lips brushing on the shell of your left ear.

Nodding, you two moved over to the bar for a couple glasses of posca before starting the endless circle of meeting politicians, thanking Capitol elites for their support, and the nagging question of when you two would start a family.

You had eventually been able to break free from the conversation you and Coriolanus were stuck in when Lucky Flickerman himself took the spot in behind the podium, preparing to start the night’s speeches.

Taking your seats, you felt Coriolanus place his arm on the back of your chair, hand brushing up and down the back your right bicep, goosebumps breaking out in the area.

As Lucky began his speech, you moved closer to your husband, whispering in his ear, “I can’t understand what he’s saying.”

Coriolanus looked back at you, noticing the missing hearing aid, eyebrow raised.

“I forgot to put it back in after my shower.”

Without missing a beat, Coriolanus shifted in his seat and began to interpret the speeches for you, ignoring the not-so-subtle looks you two were getting, mainly from newer guests who weren’t used to seeing the president use sign language.

At the conclusion of Lucky’s speech, a Capitol employee scuttled over to the First Couple.

“President Snow, we can have an Avox translate if you’d like.”

Frowning, Coriolanus shook his head. “That’s alright, I can interpret for my wife.”

The employee didn’t seem to expect that response, simply blinking at the couple.

“Is that a problem?” Coriolanus asked, ignoring your hand on his knee.

“N-no, not at all. I just- you’re expected to make a speech tonight, too.” The employee tried to backpedal, not wanting to ruin his career tonight.

You chose this moment to speak up, not wanting Coriolanus to overreact. “It’s fine, Coryo’s quite apt at making sure I know what’s going on. Why don’t you be a dear and get me a glass of wine?”

The employee was quick to leave the conversation, and Coriolanus looked at you. “You’re too kind to them.”

Shrugging, you took the full glass without so much as a glance in the employee’s direction. “Someone has to be.”

Coriolanus let out an airy laugh as he stood up, dusting off some nonexistent crumbs from his burgundy suit. He squeezed your arm before departing from your side, taking his place where Lucky Flickerman had left open, the weatherman-turned-host made sure to give his hand a shake as they exchanged pleasantries.

 Giving everyone a moment to settle down, Coriolanus cleared his throat before beginning, shocking nearly everyone in the room as he used both his voice and hands to conduct the speech.

“The Twenty-Fifth Hunger Games are right around the corner, so I thought I would give you all a twist I’m putting into the Reaping ceremony this year, and potentially the following Reapings. Dr. Gaul and I have had numerous discussions about how tributes are elected, and from prior games being rigged, we have initiated a couple updates to the ceremony and process.”

You were curious of the updates Coriolanus was talking about, unaware he was still dipping his toes into Gamemaking.

“Rather than each District’s mayor or elected spokesperson calling the names, we will have someone from the Capitol pull names. It will eliminate the possibility for rigging the tributes. In addition, who really wants to watch groups of children kill each other? With Reaping eligibility starting at age twelve, the Gamemakers and I have decided to increase the number of entries one gets as they age. When they reach the age of eighteen, each possible tribute will be entered into the Reaping six times.”

You weren’t able to hear everyone’s whispers, but you could see them looking at each other, taking in the news.

Coriolanus concluded his speech by introducing Dr. Gaul’s assistant, as the Head Gamemaker had something come up rendering her unable to attend the gala.

When he returned to your side, you looked him up and down. “Some updates, huh? Whose idea were they?”

Coriolanus had a smirk on his face, simply bringing his glass of posca to his lips.

-----

After all of the speeches were finished, some music began to play, letting the now tipsy and drunk Capitol elite take the dancefloor with eager steps.

Lucky Flickerman meandered over to where you and Coriolanus were still seated, discussing what Tigris deserved for her upcoming birthday.

“Not going to share a dance tonight?” He asked, looking between the two of you.

“Oh, Lucky, you should now, we don’t really dance. Only for the most special of occasions.” Coriolanus smiled, twisting the wedding band around his finger.

You wore a matching smile, though your reply wasn’t quite what Lucky expected. “And besides, Lucky, I’m not the best dancer if I can’t hear the music. You should have seen the first time we tried to dance together in the Academy.”  

The mustached man opened his mouth like he was going to reply, but nothing came out except for a chuckle.

Coriolanus hid his smile behind the glass of water he had switched to, not able to tolerate the posca and wine like he had before.

It was one of his favorite moments after you two had officially started dating. The Academy had their annual prom, though it tended to be more of a fashion show than dance, as many students arrived in extravagant outfits that were ill-suited for dancing.

You had been in a sparking silver dress, heels a gift from your mother, red-tinted lips dropping when Coriolanus asked you to dance with him.

It had been enough missteps to last a lifetime, but the two of you took it in stride, promising each other to get a proper dance instructor before your first dance at the wedding years later.

“I do hate to break up the fond memory, honey, but we should be heading out.”

Coriolanus downed the rest of his water before standing, lending you his arm as you two bid goodnight to your friends and Coriolanus’ closest colleagues, before disappearing from the gala.

-----

You walked out of the bathroom from taking your makeup off to see Coriolanus sitting on the bed, sheets pulled back for your arrival.

“Who are you thinking will be the Capitol’s representative for the Reaping?” You asked, mind still going back to the Reaping updates.

Coriolanus closed the book he was reading, eyes looking you up and down as you climbed into the bed. “I don’t know yet. Why, do you have anyone in mind?”

You shrugged, pulling the sheets up to your chest, yawn escaping your lips. “No one in particular, but I’m sure I could come up with some names.”

Coriolanus laughed, setting his book on the nightstand next to him. “We can talk about it when you’re not going to fall asleep in mere minutes. Goodnight, love.”

“Mm, ‘night, Coryo.” You whispered, letting Coriolanus’ soft breathing and the distant sounds of sirens lull you to sleep.

-----

a/n: hey was this good should i do more in this universe let me know

[v3nusxsky]

hiiiiii since today is my bday I was thinking if I could request lesso x female reader with loooots of comfort where lesso found out that today is r’s bday but she kept it a secret because she hated her birthdays and lesso felt sad for r so she surprised her 💛 thank u sm

A day to remember

*Authors note~ Drabble time i got this request around my birthday and birthdays are hard for me so I decided to wait until I had healed over my 21st before posting this which is based off my story*

Trigger warnings~ Vanishing Twin Syndrome (VTS) pregnancy loss and the aftereffects on the living twin, grief, that’s all I think?

Birthdays are meant to be joyful and memorable. The one day of the year that’s yours to feel special and loved. Any birthday parties you attended you’d seen parents beaming with pride, celebrating their child. Only on your birthday, your mother cried. In your younger years you didn’t realise that fact, too distracted by the colourful paper and what was inside. But as you grew you became more aware of your mothers tears.

On your tenth birthday you caught her crying in her room, not understanding why she wasn’t happy. You are the big ten now! Surely that’s a good thing? But that is when she told you that it wasn’t just your birthday, you have a twin. Honestly, you could’ve laughed it off if it wasn’t for the constant feeling of loneliness and the unusual attachment you have to your bear given to you at birth. From then on, birthdays became reminders, a day to grieve for you and your mother.

The bigger birthdays were always the hardest, turning twenty one alone, knowing the big celebration should be joint. Weeks of planning should’ve been spent over what cake you’d have, where you’d go, what you’d do, were spent alone wondering what you would do with the day. It shouldn’t be the way that it is and you knew that.

Leonora knew your story, but had fought hard to discover when your birthday was, she simply couldn’t let your 25th birthday slide by unnoticed. You were a quarter of a century old and that needed to be celebrated. Of course she knew you wouldn’t want a fuss, you’d wake up and cry in her arms missing your twin, then she’d manage to convince you to eat something small before you’d crawl back into bed under the mountains of blankets ready to sleep the day away. Well not this year.

On the dreaded day, the routine started as normal, she held you as you cried whispering words of love and reassurance that your twin would want you to celebrate not spend all day sad. This year she couldn’t coax you out of bed for breakfast so she brought breakfast to you, a single pink rose on the tray. On said rose, a little bit of paper tied with a piece of pink string stating, “happy 25th sis! Gods we are old now huh? Celebrate on earth for me, and I’ll celebrate in the sky, forever your twin.”

More tears flowing at the thoughtful gesture from your Leo had you agreeing to get out of bed at least, a small but vital step. After breakfast Leonora dragged you to the bathroom where she pampered her girl after making you promise not to tell a soul, after all she’s still the Dean of Evil. From there she surprised you with gifts, only small but intimate items, loved nonetheless by you which made it worth it. Around the evening the real plan would begin.

After your favourite meal and some more tears, you and Leonora walked hand in hand to the gardens. The stars shining on full display as you stood underneath there glow. “It’s beautiful Nora” you murmured, seemingly mesmerised by the brightest star in the sky. “I figured we’d stand here and wish your twin the best birthday also, I know how much you miss them and we’ll they certainly are the brightest star in the sky dove.”

Most people wouldn’t understand why you cling to the woman, sobbing in her arms at a simple walk under the stars, but you knew she did. “Shh darling, I know it’s okay. I know you miss them sweet girl. It’s okay, I’m here dove let it out” among other reassurances where murmured out in between kisses being dropped to the crown of your head. After some time, soothing classical music suddenly surrounds you causing you to pull back in confusion, “Nora?”

“My sweet little dove, I wanted to make today special for you and well I thought this would be the perfect place and time. Forgive me not being on one knee but here under the brightest star in the sky I wanted to ask you if you would be my wife” she rushed out, it was rare for Leonora to show her nerves but they were soon washed away when you jumped into her arms repeatedly saying yes. The ring slipped perfectly onto your left ring finger, and that’s when Leonora made a promise to never let you not celebrate both your birthdays, the walk under the stars becoming a tradition for you both.

[dollarbin]

Dollar Bin #45:

Woody Guthrie's Lindbergh

I clearly don't aim to do anything too serious around here but I have periodically ensured that Trump supporters feel thoroughly uninvited to the Dollar Bin.

After all, Donald Trump does not understand the Dollar Bin. Our very own Neil Young is one of dozens of dollar bin artists whose music has been featured at Trump rallies against their explicit wishes and whose sentiments about that fact are well summarized by one of the guys behind Panic at the Disco: "Dear Trump Campaign, F--- you... Stop playing my song."

Plus, Trump wouldn't even know there was such a thing as the dollar bin. To him, there's no such thing as art, let alone art - or anything - that can be purchased for a buck. The shoes with his name on them cost a few hundred bucks; same with his bibles. Sure, he'd pretend to thumb through some old records if those records were in a swing state and there were a few dozen television cameras around recording his pithy and racist nonsense while a wave of nutjobs surged about outside, hoping to see him at it. But, thankfully, that photo op is one of the few he's passed by.

The truth is that my own life won't change too much if he gets reelected. I'm white, male, American by birth and heterosexual so I probably won't lose too many of my rights. But I'd rush home and burn every one my records; hell, I'd even root for the Yankees, Giants, Padres and everyone else to forever trounce my Dodgers - I'm that earnest about this - if I thought any of that would help keep Trump out of the White House for good. I just hate everything he stands for. For my daughters, my students, my neighbors, for everyone. He is evil. And we are better than him.

Why am I telling you all this instead of recommending a Randy Newman record or something? Well, it's my worry that too many of us will leave stones unturned in the next two weeks when it comes to stopping Trump's return to power. I don't want to look back and think "I shoulda..." And so, for this moment only, I'm turning this blog into a political plea.

So, let's listen to some Woody Guthrie!

If you don't teach high school history or haven't read The Plot Against America, here's some context for Guthrie's attack on an American legend:

Throughout the 1920's and 30's Charles Lindbergh was our country's Tom Hanks meets Michael Jordan: he was our biggest celebrity and our most celebrated retired athlete all wrapped up in one handsome package.

The basis for that fame was his record breaking flight across the Atlantic, but he wasn't just a pilot. Get this: the guy also invented some of the foundational technology behind modern surgery and artificial hearts.

What's more, he was a famously tragic figure: his infant daughter was kidnapped and died in what white media at the time described as the "Crime of the Century."

Meanwhile he was a racist, anti-Semitic fascist. There's no hyperbole in that statement.

And in 1940, the Republican party begged him to run for president. Lindbergh, who was shy and paranoid, ultimately declined to run but he made his views clear all the same: the best thing for our country to do was to side with Hitler in the coming war. After all, he reasoned, Jews ran the world and they needed to be stopped.

And here's the crazy part: if Lindbergh had accepted that nomination and appeared on the 1940 ballot he almost certainly would have won and been our President. Really. And then where the hell would we all be?

I see a lot of exasperated headlines at this point: why, given Trump's blatant criminal behavior, his increasing senility and his rampant megalomania, is this year's election so close? Why isn't Kamala "running away with this thing?"

The answer seems fairly obvious to me: 1/2 of our country is either too apathetic or disadvantaged to vote, and just a 1/4 of us plan to vote against Trump because we are neither disadvantaged nor apathetic and we have a healthy moral compass. But that means a full quarter of our country's ethical compass directs them to sexism, xenophobia and a preference for "I alone can fix it" fascism over democracy. And that means Trump may very well win.

It somehow doesn't matter that even Trump's longest serving Chief of Staff calls him a fascist. Our election will be a toss up.

Which brings us back to good old Woody. His song about Lindbergh, the Donald Trump of his day, is tons of fun, I think, plus you gotta dig that hook: in Washington; in Wash-ing-ton.

But Guthrie, though a genius, didn't record Lindbergh until 1944 - a full four years after the American people needed to hear the song and act on it. And Shakey, also a genius, didn't record Ohio until after those bodies were lying dead on the ground.

There are just two weeks to go folks. I'm no Woody Guthrie nor Neil Young, that's for sure. But this post is me singing my own paltry version of Ohio and Lindbergh. My song may suck but I'm earnest about it: I'm trying to sing while there's still time to correct our course.

I should be doing way, way more than this - I know it. But thanks for reading this all the same, and thanks for considering. I think our country, like the dollar bin, is full of wonder and beauty.

So let's save it.

[ammg-old2]

When I decided to propose to the woman who is now my wife, I gave a lot of thought to how I was going to do it. But I didn't think much about what I was going to do it with. Not only did a diamond ring seem the logical—nay, the inevitable—choice, but I had just the very diamond. My grandfather had scrounged up enough money to buy a diamond ring for my grandmother in the early 1950s, and the stone had passed to me when he passed away. I reset the diamond in a more modern band, got the ring appraised, and slipped it on my fiancée's finger.

It was a beautiful moment—a gesture of love and commitment spanning generations. And it was also exactly what De Beers Consolidated Mines, Ltd. wanted. I was a century-old marketing campaign, actualized. And I'm far from alone; three-quarters of American brides wear a diamond engagement ring, which now costs an average of $4,000.

Every so often, an article comes along that makes you thoroughly rethink a rote practice. Edward Jay Epstein's "Have You Ever Tried to Sell a Diamond?" was one of them. In his 1982 Atlantic story, the investigative journalist deconstructed what he termed the "diamond invention"—the "creation of the idea that diamonds are rare and valuable, and are essential signs of esteem."

That invention is surprisingly recent: Epstein traces its origins to the discovery of massive diamond mines in South Africa in the late 19th century, which for the first time flooded world markets with diamonds. The British businessmen operating the South African mines recognized that only by maintaining the fiction that diamonds were scarce and inherently valuable could they protect their investments and buoy diamond prices. They did so by launching a South Africa–based cartel, De Beers Consolidated Mines, Ltd. (now De Beers), in 1888, and meticulously extending the company's control over all facets of the diamond trade in the ensuing decades.

Most remarkably, De Beers manipulated not just supply but demand. In 1938, amid the ravages of the Depression and the rumblings of war, Harry Oppenheimer, the De Beers founder's son, recruited the New York–based ad agency N.W. Ayer to burnish the image of diamonds in the United States, where the practice of giving diamond engagement rings had been unevenly gaining traction for years, but where the diamonds sold were increasingly small and low-quality.

Meanwhile, the price of diamonds was falling around the world. The folks at Ayer set out to persuade young men that diamonds (and only diamonds) were synonymous with romance, and that the measure of a man's love (and even his personal and professional success) was directly proportional to the size and quality of the diamond he purchased. Young women, in turn, had to be convinced that courtship concluded, invariably, in a diamond.

Ayer insinuated these messages into the nooks and crannies of popular culture. It marketed an idea, not a diamond or brand:

Movie idols, the paragons of romance for the mass audience, would be given diamonds to use as their symbols of indestructible love. In addition, the agency suggested offering stories and society photographs to selected magazines and newspapers which would reinforce the link between diamonds and romance. Stories would stress the size of diamonds that celebrities presented to their loved ones, and photographs would conspicuously show the glittering stone on the hand of a well-known woman. Fashion designers would talk on radio programs about the "trend towards diamonds" that Ayer planned to start. ...

In its 1947 strategy plan, the advertising agency ... outlined a subtle program that included arranging for lecturers to visit high schools across the country. "All of these lectures revolve around the diamond engagement ring, and are reaching thousands of girls in their assemblies, classes and informal meetings in our leading educational institutions," the agency explained in a memorandum to De Beers. The agency had organized, in 1946, a weekly service called "Hollywood Personalities," which provided 125 leading newspapers with descriptions of the diamonds worn by movie stars. ... In 1947, the agency commissioned a series of portraits of "engaged socialites." The idea was to create prestigious "role models" for the poorer middle-class wage-earners. The advertising agency explained, in its 1948 strategy paper, "We spread the word of diamonds worn by stars of screen and stage, by wives and daughters of political leaders, by any woman who can make the grocer's wife and the mechanic's sweetheart say 'I wish I had what she has.'"

In the late 1940s, just before my grandfather started hunting for his diamond ring, an Ayer copywriter conceived of the slogan that De Beers has used ever since: "A Diamond Is Forever." "Even though diamonds can in fact be shattered, chipped, discolored, or incinerated to ash, the concept of eternity perfectly captured the magical qualities that the advertising agency wanted to attribute to diamonds," Epstein writes. A diamond that's forever promises endless romance and companionship. But a forever diamond is also one that's not resold. Resold diamonds (and it's maddeningly hard to resell them, as Epstein's article details) cause fluctuations in diamond prices, which undermine public confidence in the intrinsic value of diamonds. Diamonds that are stowed away in safe-deposit boxes, or bequeathed to grandchildren, don't.

[yn-ymn-yln]

Hey there! Hope you're doing well! I'd like to request a Kol Mikaelson X reader where the reader is a child psychic (12-15) that Kol low-key adopts. Like the Mikaelsons find about this kid with "gifts" and try to locate her but when they do they find out that her parents are physically abusive and trying to repress her abilities. So, the Mikaelsons gang saves her and she lives with them and at first Lol only really cares to study her abilities but he eventually realizes she's kinda a mischievous little whack-job of a human and he's like: "This is my child now." You can choose what sort of psychic power the reader has. (Ex. Empathic, telepathic, telekinetic, foresight...) Thank you!!!!

*Thank you for the request and your patience love! I hope you like it!*

Black Sheep

Kol had been watching you for a few days now. He had gotten wind of your abilities from the witches in the quarter, but was determined to see if you were worth his time himself.

From distant observation alone he could tell you were an empath, though he wasn’t sure just how far your abilities could go.

Could you control other people’s emotions?

Had you even scratched the surface of what your powers could actually do?

Listening intently from the corner of your street he hears the disturbing sound of your pleading.

“I won’t do it again! I promise! PLEASE DON’T LOCK ME IN HERE!”

“You’ve left us no choice Y/f/n, you’re a danger to everyone around you, there are consequences to your actions.” Kol’s head lifts at those words, he had heard a rendition of that more than once, listening to you endure the same treatment cracks his inhuman exterior slightly. It didn’t take a genius to see that you weren’t dangerous, just different… A black sheep, like him. Without much thought Kol makes a decision, one that could very well leave him daggered, in a box for the next century.

“I’m sorry, you what?” Staring into the eyes of Klaus, Kol doesn’t back down from the choice he’s made, whether or not it was a mistake was still up for debate.

“They’re an empath, I figured they could be of use to us.” Without another word and before things could get heated, Elijah shows you to one of the many spare rooms that litter the compound.

“Did he kill them?” Your voice is soft and unsure, your age shining through despite your predicament. Although you were looking for reassurance Elijah was quite finished with Kol’s antics.

“Sleep. We can discuss things further in the morning.” He turns away at that, leaving you with the uncertainty of your parent’s survival and the unsettling feeling of a strange bed.

~~

As the months progressed so did your abilities, under Freya’s watchful eye you had learned more about your powers than you thought possible, which got you into trouble. A lot.

Running up the stairs of the compound you desperately attempt to reach your room before Klaus got wind of your little prank, though the vampire in your path did little to aid you in that endeavor.

“And where are you off to?”

“No time to explain, HIDE ME.” Jumping into the arms of your rescuer, your eyes widen at the vicious yell from the living room.

“Y/N!!” Glancing from you to the end of the stairs Kol immediately releases you, laughing loudly at your unceremonious landing. Within a second Klaus is in front of the two of you, eyes blazing with fury.

“You little brat.” Before things could escalate further you dulled the emotions raging through the hybrid’s mind, lulling him into a false sense of security.

“I’m sorry Klaus, I promise it won’t happen again.” Your smile to others would seem apologetic but to Kol was as mischievous as they came.

“It’s alright love, no worries.” Glancing at Kol you can’t help the small giggle that bubbles from within you.

“Your abilities seem to be coming along well.”

“Yeah… Freya’s really helped a lot.” It was awkward, Kol hadn’t spoken to you much since saving you, though you had spotted him watching from the door while you and Freya practiced on occasion.

“Better hide before he realizes what you’ve done.”

“Done again, you should say.” As if on cue Klaus’ booming voice rips through the compound for the second time.

“WHERE IS THAT LITTLE MONGREL!!!”

~~

Try as he might to keep his distance, Kol couldn’t help but feel a kinship towards you. You were a trouble maker. From playing pranks on Elijah, to dulling Klaus’ rage in the presence of his enemies, you were the culprit to some of Kol’s favorite crimes. Of course, a case could be made that you were certifiably insane, but what was the world without a little chaos?

“DON’T TOUCH THAT!” Jumping a mile Freya whips around to face you, eyes wide.

“Why?! It’s just a rock?!”

“My socks keep going missing, so I’m leaving an offering to the house troll.” Mouth agape, Freya isn’t quite sure if you were serious or not.

“Y/n there is no such thing as a house tro-”

“SHHHHHHHH! He’s always listening.” In true twelve-year-old fashion you bolt behind the couch, eyes constantly watching the rock perched on the window.

“KOL! COME GET YOUR CHILD PLEASE!” With a furrowed brow Kol enters the living room, eyes landing on your squinting form from your semi hidden position.

“Uhh…” Sighing loudly you go through the explanation again, never once looking away from your trap.

“That’s why I’m waiting here.”

“So the house trolls will leave you alone?” Kol’s confusion bleeds into his question.

“No! So I can get my socks back from the greedy bastards. They messed with the wrong kid.” Shaking his head Kol kneels next to you in your makeshift trenches.

“How long do you intend to wait?”

“As long as it takes.”

When Rebekah enters the war zone twenty minutes later, she’s greeted with a sight that melts her heart. You were fast asleep on Kol’s lap, mouth wide open, face pointed towards the ceiling. Kol wasn’t much better, head resting against yours with his eyes closed.

“So much for hunting trolls.” She can’t help the smile that forms as the words leave her mouth. Her brother truly was a child. Good thing he had you to play with.

~~

Your thirteenth birthday was something Kol was admittedly not prepared for, not because of the balloons or the obvious sugar rush you were sporting, no those things he could handle. What he couldn’t handle was the effects of time already taking their toll. You were a year older now than when he had saved you, features slowly morphing and changing.

How long did he truly have left with you?

That thought alone turned the cheery celebration into something much more debilitating. Somewhere in the back of Kol’s mind he’d thought about changing you, turning you in the middle of the night like his parents had done to him. Could he do it? Rip away everything you have ever known for his own selfish want to have you around forever? Watching the joy break out across your face as you open presents, he doesn’t think he could.

As the night winds down Kol goes in search of you, fully prepared to compel you to sleep off your sugar high. When he finds you fast asleep on the couch, stuffed bear he had bought you gripped tightly in your grasp, he lets out a quiet chuckle.

“Dad?” With your groggy whisper Kol’s freezes in place. You had never called him that, refusing to emotionally attach yourself to any one after what your parents had done, though your tired state didn’t seem to mind all that much.

“What’s wrong?” He doesn’t acknowledge your slip up, too concerned with the moisture building in the corners of your eyes.

“Bad dream.” Lifting you into his arms, he shushes you gently.

“It’s alright little one, I’m here. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Watching you sniffle quietly and burrow into his embrace, Kol knows no matter how much it hurts, or how little time he had left with you, he would never let himself be the source of your sadness.

After all black sheep had to stick together.

[eddysocs]

Eceon Exile (Thirteenth Doctor x OC)

Summary: Calpernia and the Doctor go off for a scenic seasonal trip, but inadvertently interrupt a highly valued tradition just by being there, which leads to temporary isolation from one another and some consequences for the pair.

Word Count: 1,390

Warnings: Bit of angst

"Isn’t Eceon just lovely this time of year," the Doctor gushed.

"Yes, it is," Calpernia replied pleasantly. It wasn’t as if it was about the dozenth time she’d answered some version of that same exact question, but the childlike wonder on the Doctor's face kept her from getting short with her.

"See, I can bring you places that are just peaceful," the Doctor began, turning her attention from the planet's seasonal reddish pink hues. "Eceon's equivalent of earth's autumn has inspired some of the most influential artists of the 36th century." She looked to Calpernia and received a soft smile from her, as was often the case when she recited facts that Calpernia found fascinating. The Doctor was about to continue, but as soon as she opened her mouth, it was as if another voice came out.

"Halt," a baritone voice interrupted. "Turn and identify yourselves."

"May have spoke too soon about the peaceful bit," the Doctor admitted, a guilty look on her face. Calpernia sighed and the two of them turned to comply with the order they’d been given.

"I’m the Doctor, and this is Calpernia. Beautiful name, isn’t it?" The man, whom Calpernia assumed to be a guard of some sort, did not find her name nearly as delightful as the Doctor did. "Right, okay, I see you’re not one for pleasantries. Suppose we won’t get a name in return."

Unfazed by the Doctor's yammering, the guard's sour expression did not change. "You’ve intruded upon the Sestral Celebration where no outsiders are permitted on Eceon for the forty eight hours that the moon passes overhead," the guard informed.

"Figures I’d time that one poorly. Thought I’d ironed out those couple of kinks. Can’t be helped now," the Doctor muttered to herself. Only Calpernia was able to hear her clearly, and nudged the Doctor gently in the side with her elbow. "Well, we'll just be going then, won’t we," The Doctor tried to reason, snapping back to attention. Calpernia nodded along, hoping it would be enough to get them out of this, but based on past events, she couldn’t say she was holding out much hope of an easy escape.

Soon, two more guards, who looked just as intimidating as the first, appeared behind the original and both the Doctor and Calpernia were seized, being carried off in separate directions. "Doctor," Calpernia called. "Doctor, I don’t like this."

"Don’t worry. I’ll figure something out," the Doctor called back, just losing sight of Calpernia as she did. Famous last words, Calpernia thought. What was she meant to do in the meantime?

Calpernia was placed in a small holding room, just big enough for her to kick her legs out in front of her as she sat on the cold, hard floor. She didn’t suppose that these were a violent people, just displeased that their celebration had been intruded upon. She figured she could understand that, but it still sucked that what was meant to be a nice, scenic trip had turned into the same old problematic situation that the Doctor always seemed to be getting them into.

Hours passed and with nothing to do, Calpernia started to become antsy. Any time now, Doctor, she thought, moving about the small room, only maddening herself further. She didn’t like the cramped quarters and just wanted to get out of there and off this planet and go back to the TARDIS to get some rest.

Be out in a jiff, the Doctor's voice rang in her head, but Calpernia couldn’t see her anywhere. Thinking she may have imagined it, she got up and checked her surroundings again. "Doctor," Calpernia broached, feeling strange. She waited, but there was no answer. Was she talking to no one? It sure felt like it, but the Doctor's voice had sounded so clear. Her hope and excitement had been momentarily restored, only to be dashed again but a few seconds later.

She slid her body back down the smooth wall. Doctor, where are you, she thought, a heavy breath puffing out of her as she made contact with the floor again.

I’m here, Cal, she heard again, quieter this time. Well, sort of. I’m in your head. Great, so she was crazy now. You’re not crazy, the Doctor insisted. How had she heard that? It’s a psychic link, the Doctor explained, once again reading Calpernia's thoughts. There’s only an hour before the celebration ends. I think they’ll let us go after that. You mind waiting?

Calpernia thought on it a moment. She desperately wanted out, but what was one more hour as long as it was the most reasonable, peaceful option? "Alright, an hour it is," she said aloud. It wasn’t as if anyone was going to hear her talking to what seemed like no one. And she was pretty sure the Doctor would still hear her. "Can you tell me about this psychic link thing," Calpernia asked, figuring it was a way to pass the time.

It’s fascinating, really. Don’t tend to use it much though. No need, really. I talk enough that it’s not generally necessary. Calpernia giggled a bit at that, a statement that undeniably true had to be laughed at and though she couldn’t see it, Calpernia could somehow sense the Doctor smiling along with her. It’s a connection, the Doctor went on. If I'm close enough with someone, I can use that bond to speak with them inside their mind. Works great in situations like these. There was a brief pause, long enough for Calpernia to notice her ears ringing, before the Doctor communicated with her again. I’m sorry, Cal.

"For what? It’s not as if you planned for us to get captured." It’s true, Calpernia had been upset with the situation, but not with the Doctor herself. The Doctor was not someone she could ever see herself staying mad at for any length of time.

For always being a disappointment. I just want to show you the universe and I keep putting you in harm's way and inconvenient situations. It’s never just…nice. You deserve nice things.

Calpernia's heart really went out to her. "Doctor, I have nice things. I have you. I have a life outside of that dusty old bookshop. Not that I don’t love it there, but I’ve always wanted to see things, go places, and with you, I'm finally living that dream. Sure, not everything goes to plan all the time, but that’s just life, isn’t it?"

Before the Doctor had a chance to respond, the heavy metal door was opening and Calpernia's distraction at the sound broke the psychic link between them. A stronger bond may not have been so easily severed, but she and Calpernia were still relatively new to one another.

The Doctor and Calpernia were reunited in another sterile looking room, lacking any sort of warmth or friendliness. They both smiled softly at one another, and Calpernia took the Doctor's hand when they were allowed to stand side by side once more. Her palm quickly grew sweaty underneath Calpernia’s grasp, and she hoped her companion didn’t notice.

"You will be released with this simple message," the guard from before instructed. "Do not return here to Eceon. You will not be permitted back on the planet, and if caught, you will face dire consequences."

"And I’m guessing we don’t want to know what those are," the Doctor interrupted.

"I believe you’d rather not find out," came the, again, unbothered and monotone reply.

"Right. Proceed."

"You are free to go, but your exile is permanent. Do not return to Eceon."

"Got it. Crystal clear. Don’t come back. Dire consequences. The works. Are we free to go now?"

"Yes, you may depart." Under the watchful eye of the guard, they were escorted back to the Doctor's TARDIS, and only let out their breaths once inside.

"Don't think we'll be coming back even if I’d wanted to after that."

"I’m okay with that. This is not an experience I’m eager to repeat. Besides, it’s good to be home."

The Doctor's smile could have lit up the entire TARDIS. Her TARDIS had always been her home, but she’d never had a companion tell her that it feels like theirs, and something in that touched her deeply. "What do you say we get this home on the road?"

"Yes, please."

Forever Tag: @arrthurpendragon, @borg-queer, @foxesandmagic, @connietheecunning, @chickensarentcheap

Calpernia Weatherly: @mrsfullbuster500, @fxnfandxmmp4

[flameo-hotman]

have you done 1? for the adoption game!

No one has ordered this adoption yet. Lucky you! This one is Earth King Kuei adopts Zuko! : ) Now this one comes in a lot of different flavors, but I will go with one of the shorter ones. (It is yet again one of the Zuko gets brainwashed by the Dai Li but not the one where he kills the Earth King sorry @muffinlance that one is still in the works. But I do promise I will at you when I post it!)

Kuei had not been able to produce an heir. Long Feng advised him that if his short coming were to become known then it could cause scandal, so why not adopt a child and pretend as though the child had simply been kept from the public eye.

That seemed like a good idea to him, but he did have reservations about hiding the truth about the child not actually being his... Still, he wanted to do what was best for his people and Long Feng had never misled him before...

So Long Feng brought him to visit an orphanage in secret.

There was a 13 year old boy with a scar and golden eyes. He looked tired and confused.

But he held himself like royalty. If they were able to pass anyone off as royalty it would be this child. So he adopted the boy, who was identified as a boy named Lee who had snuck onto the ferry.

Lee accepted his palace as a prince without question, Long Feng expanding that his mother had once been a nobleman’s daughter, whom Kuei had courted before her family had to leave the city. The story that Lee had told them about his mother was used as the basses for the lie.

Kuei felt bad about it, but the child would have a better life as his heir. So a lie here and a rumor there and the kingdom was celebrating the safe return of their missing prince, who they had not known about until the rouse.

Two months into their lie, Lee fire bent.

He didn’t understand why Long Feng went pale like Father Glowworm himself had appeared in the palace. But Long Feng was quick to explain to them that this needed to stay secret and so who would they be to question the man’s judgment.

He had never led them astray before...

Had he?

After Long Feng had left the room to speak with the rest of the Dai Li, Kuei ordered, “General Hu, have someone keep an eye on Long Feng. There is something strange happening, and I would like to know exactly what that is.”

His son seemed worried, but when Kuei asked why Lee’s only answer was to wince and respond, “I-I’m not sure...”

Kuei did not let his son out of his sight after that.

Long Feng had been the one to bring him to that orphanage and if the man had misled him in some way he would need to know that Lee would not be involved with it.

Long Feng was brainwashing people with the use of the Dai Li somehow, and Kuei was under no delusion that his son’s mind had gone untouched.

Lee was not happy to learn his mind had been altered.

In fact, Lee was furious. Lee spat fire and raged in a way that he had never seen his son rage. He had never seen a display of emotion quite so strong from the boy, and he felt like a fool.

He would need to unlock his son’s true memories.

Long Feng was confused when Kuei had Zuko moved to his private quarters without consulting the man.

“I am afraid that your agents failed to prevent an assassin from entering my son’s bed chambers. Clearly, my rooms are after than his, so until the security risks are addressed by my own agents, Lee shall remain where he is safe.”

Long Feng looked panicked and tried to argue, but Kuei raised a hand, Lee’s anger simmering in the background as the room temperature rose. “No, Long Feng, I am the king and I will make the decisions that I feel are needed to ensure the safety of my son and the future of my kingdom.”

His son woke a month later screaming.

“Lee?!” Kuei shouted, as he leaped from his bed and raced over to the bed that had been moved into his room for his son. “Are you okay?”

“There was a man, another fire bender- He burned my face-” Lee hyperventilated, as Kuei did his best to calm his son.

Rage filled Kuei. Someone, a fire bender, had harmed his son.

He passed for a moment as it dawned on him that the only fire bender who he had ever met was his son. In fact, he had never met someone from any of the other kingdoms.

“Can you describe the man for me?” Kuei asked, a plan to track the man who’d hurt his son down budding in his mind.

Lee got that pained look on his face, the same one he got whenever they found a memory that had been tampered with.

“I-I’m not sure...” And then desperation overtook his son’s face. “I called him father...”

And thus the lie he had willfully hidden from his son came to light.

“You’re not my father...”

Kuei had worried that this day would come and now that it was here, he had to be honest.

He sighed and looked down at his feet before answering, “I may not be your father by blood, but you are my son regardless. I care for you as my own and I will always be there for you.”

The man who was Lee’s father turned out to be the Fire Lord.

Kuei would like to say that he and his son had figured that out on their own, but he would be lying.

No, he found out when the Avatar brought the Dragon of the West into his palace to tell him that his country had been at war for the past century.

“They are lying, my lord-” Long Feng began, but Kuei raised a hand and ordered, “Guards arrest Long Feng.”

He would protect his son no matter what.

[fuckyeahisawthat]

I'm just curious (still learning) at what point after 1100 AD would Joe and Nicky been in actual danger due to homophobia? At what point would they have to start lying to people about the nature of their amazing relationship, just to stay safe? Thanks!

(This is in reference to this post, in which I skimmed over like 900 years of sociological changes in identity formation in very very broad strokes.)

So. Here’s the thing. As “western” queer people in the modern world, I think we highly associate safety with being able to be out of the closet. Can I kiss my partner in public or walk down the street holding hands without fear of encountering hate speech or physical violence? Can I tell my friends, family and coworkers about my relationship without fear of social ostracization or economic consequences?

But that’s a very modern perspective. Between “pride parade!!” and “we will definitely be murdered if anyone finds out we are lovers,” there is...A LOT of space for different kinds of historical queer experience.

So it’s not so much that Yusuf and Nicolò could be safely “out of the closet” in 12th century Baghdad but not in 19th century London. It’s not quite as far from that as you might think. But they wouldn’t have thought about it that way.

In the first few hundred years of their existence, the Islamic world was...full of contradictions when it came to homosexuality. You had a strong taboo against adult men being the receptive partner in penetrative sex, but you also had poets--like, the most famous poets of their times--writing tons of homoerotic poetry about desiring young men and boys, and that was normal and even celebrated. (If you’re familiar with the sexual mores of ancient Greece...lots of similarities here.) You had clerics writing about how there should be harsh punishments for “sodomy,” but in practice in everyday life very, very few people were ever actually disciplined in the legal system for something like that. And other forms of sexual activity between men, like kissing and various forms of non-penetrative sex, were just...not a big deal. At the same time there was kind of an unspoken “don’t ask, don’t tell” social contract around sex between men. Like, we know this thing is definitely happening, and we’re not going to talk about it, and that’s what makes it socially acceptable to continue happening. So you can have a society that in the written, religious record looks fairly intolerant toward sex between men; in practice is actually quite tolerant; where everyone sort of knows things about certain people, but where no one is really “out” in the modern sense of the terms.

At the same time, pretty much everywhere in the world at this time but definitely in the Middle East, casual touch between men was much more normalized. Two men holding hands or linking arms when walking down the street, sitting pressed up next to each other, falling asleep with your head on your male companion’s shoulder...a whole range of things that look decidedly snuggly to our modern gaze would have been totally acceptable between friends of the same gender, and would not have been considered sexual in any way. (This is still true in much of the Middle East today.)

So you can easily imagine a scenario where, like, Nicolò is lounging with his head on Yusuf’s shoulder, eating dates and listening to some saucy Abu Nuwas poem being recited, and then they go back to their private quarters and they have as much sex as they want. Are they “out”? Not really. Is anyone bothering them about how they’re living their lives? Not in the slightest. Do some people in that room see them and know? Probably, but that’s their private business and we’re not gonna talk about it. Frankly that sounds like a pretty sweet existence for a 12th century queer.

To be fair, they have a few advantages. They’re men, which means no one will really question them traveling together, without wives or families. They can easily say they’re friends or business partners and no one will really give it a second thought. I’m sure having to break off contact with their families was sad, but it’s also the case that there’s no one around asking when they’re going to get married to a woman and have children so we have someone to inherit the family business. It gives them a kind of freedom that a lot of other queer people around them wouldn’t have had.

I think once they meet up with Andy and Quynh, they do do things like pretending to be two married couples traveling together. But that’s more because of sexism, because two unmarried women traveling with two men who were not their husbands would turn some heads.

In Europe at the time, Christian theology is pretty not-into all kinds of non-procreative sex, but sex between men is not necessarily viewed as a worse sin than, say, masturbation, or sex between men and women out of wedlock. And it’s like, a category of sin that a lot of people are doing all the time, so if you were to confess such a thing to your local priest, you would be told to do penance but the consequences would be fairly mild. And many of the same things regarding casual touch hold true. Various rituals of kissing, including men kissing men on the mouth, are used as greetings, to seal contracts, and as part of mass.

Medieval Europe also had a concept variously called passionate, romantic, or chivalric friendship--close relationships between two people of the same gender that could be long-lasting, physically affectionate, emotionally intense in a way we would today read as romantic, and (allegedly) celibate. Were some of these passionate friendships actually queer relationships with a sexual component that just wasn’t talked about? Probably. Were some of them what we would define as queerplatonic or homoromantic asexual relationships today? Probably. Is it even useful to try to stuff these experiences into modern relationship categories? Debatable. The point is...the borders between what was defined as friendship, romance and love were different. Two men who traveled together, slept in the same bed, shared resources, were emotionally intimate with each other, and otherwise entwined their lives would not necessarily have been assumed to be sex partners in medieval Europe. And (I think this is the important part) Yusuf and Nicolò would not necessarily have seen being perceived as passionate friends as “hiding” the true nature of their relationship or as assigning some lesser value to it.

In terms of how they are perceived in public, I think things really don’t start to change until the early 20th century. It’s a gradual process, but over the first half of the 20th century, more or less, affectionate touch between men becomes defined as “gay” and a mainstream (straight) masculinity that is concerned with defining itself as “not gay” emerges. Affectionate touch, and then any show of loving emotion between men, gradually becomes less and less acceptable, to a degree that probably seems absurd to two 900-year-old Mediterraneans. (The absurdity is really well-expressed in the van scene, which is literally like “Bro is it gay to [checks notes]...express concern about the well-being of the person you were just violently kidnapped with?”)

Like, on the one hand, you have queer people talking openly about their sexuality in ways that were not an option at earlier times in their lives. But at the same time you have to be careful holding hands walking down the high street now because someone might chuck an empty beer bottle at you. Must’ve been a real wild transition for them.

[latristereina]

When Catherine of Aragon (1485–1536) moved to England in 1501 to marry her first husband, the Tudor prince Arthur (1486–1502), she brought shoes. Lots of shoes. Her shoemakers, Diego de Madrid and Diego de Valencia, had started to make her shoes when she was two years old and continued to do so until she left for England at the age of sixteen. That year, 1501, they were very busy men. The detailed accounts of Gonzalo de Baeza, Queen Isabel’s treasurer (continuous from Catherine’s birth in 1485 to Isabel’s death in 1504) note that the royal shoemakers crafted fifty-one pairs of soft leather buskins (borçeguies), short boots that came up over her ankles, and sixty-eight pairs of black leather slip- pers (servillas; also spelled xervillas). It is likely that her baggage also included cork-soled platform mules known as chapines, probably covered in velvet and intricate embroidery such as those made for her in 1497: “twelve pairs of chapines from Valencia for the infantas [María and Catherine], six of them one hand high and the other six three fingers high, at 175 [maravedís] each, some of them more, totaling 1,990 [maravedís]”. These chapines were a regal variant of shoes that were a staple of Mediterranean societies, sturdy and very handy to keep skirts from dragging through the muck of medieval streets.

The first glimpses of chapines can be found in sixteenth-century drawings, watercolors, and costume books. Given that fashion is the product of observation, does the fact that feet and shoes are not depicted mean that shoes were not considered fashion? It would be decades after Catherine before women’s shoes stepped forward as part of the fashionable attire of a stylish woman.

With her chapines, Catherine brought something fresh and novel to the Tudor court. She brought Spanishness, and with it a wider cultural horizon that encompassed more than just dozens of pairs of shoes. Her arrival signified England’s arrival on an international stage. More broadly speaking, Catherine’s shoes reveal the “capacity of clothing to organize ideas about cultural change.” They can be used to document the transmittal of a culture of style from her home in Spain at Medina del Campo, through her shoemakers in Valencia and Madrid, and the Muslim culture of Granada that was the source of many of the design elements, and ultimately to her new home at the Tudor court in London. The events celebrating her marriage—the allegorical masques and plays, the highly structured processions through London that marked one’s status, family, and affinity relationships—were the culmination of her transformation from infanta Catalina to Ladie Kateryne of Spayne. English kings sometimes married French-born women, but there had not been a Spanish-born queen of England since Eleanor of Castile (1241–90) married Edward I (1239–1307). By 1501, Spain commanded not just the Iberian peninsula but also the Habsburg domains in Central Europe and the Americas. Catherine’s shoes, hats, hooped skirts, and her hair—in fact, her entire wardrobe—was a visual presentation of her foreignness. It marked the move of the Tudor dynasty from a small insular English realm to one far more broadly European in outlook and ambition.

The visual elements of her style signified foreignness, an exotic southern sensibility that startled, even shocked, the English. Her attire attracted comment almost immediately. The English who attended the festivities celebrating Catherine’s arrival in England noted her “attire after the manor of Spain”:

And aftir theim rode the Princes upon a great mule richely trapped aftir the manour of Spayne, the Duke of Yorke on her right hand and the Legate of Rome on her left hande. She was in riche apparell on her body aftir the manour of her contre, and upon her hed a litill hatte fashounyd like a cardinalles hatte of a praty brede with a lase of golde at this hatt to steye hit, her heere hanging down abowt her shulders, which is faire aburne, and in maner of a coyfe betwene her hede and her hatt of a carnacion colour, and that was fastenyd from the myddis of her hed upwards so as men might weell se all her heere from the myddill parte of her hed downward.

There is no mention of shoes, but the anonymous author commented on just about everything else: the other Spanish ladies in the procession (four from England and four from Spain) also had their hair down, wore a red hat like a cardinal’s hat “as the Princes hade.” But they wore black gowns, with black “kerchiers” on their heads “like unto the fachion of a religious woman aftir the maner of Spayne.”

Sadly, there are no detailed descriptions of the many shoes in her wardrobe and few records of gifts given by Catherine until she married Henry in 1509. But Ruth Matilda Anderson, María M. Carrión, María del Cristo González Marrero, and Elizabeth Semmelhack provide vital clues to just what those shoes might have looked like in the early modern period.

First Catherine would don brightly colored, perhaps embroidered, hose made from Holland linen. In the privacy of her chamber, Catherine had two options: a sandal, perhaps the flat-soled cork the Muslims in Spain called an aqraq, or lightweight slippers (servillas) made of fine leather with a very thin sole and closed backs that could be worn inside a chapín. In more public places she would have worn borçeguies [soft leather buskins]. These calf-high or knee- high boots of cloth or leather fit close to the leg, were wide at the heel and narrow at the toes, and were made in a myriad of colors and sometimes adorned with bands of color. The finest quality buskins were made of cordovan leather (named for the Spanish city Córdoba, the etymological source of the English words “cordovan” and “cordwainer,” the term for a shoemaker), but sheepskin was often used too. Made with turnsole construction (put together inside out and turned right-side-out when finished), they could be soled with goatskin, lined with cloth or fur, and could have a modest platform sole.

The chapín was by far the most distinctive and complex shoe. These thick-soled platform shoes were the status footwear of discriminating women of all ages. The basic style is a shoe that was worn over a slipper out of doors. Most Spanish chapines were closer to an overshoe with an inset strap, made for navigating dirty streets and visible, not hidden under skirts. Chapines were ubiquitous and thus unremarkable; so commonplace that they were essentially unmarked by rank or status. The manufacture calls for five layers of cork fragments pegged together with sharp-pointed pieces of cane, wider at the sides, narrow toward the ends, with a rise at the heel. The bits of cork were then covered with leather, frequently goatskin, with an outer sole that was flat and oval. The vamp sections would be interlined, lined with canvas or goatskin, finished along the upper edge with overhand stitching, with pierced holes for lacing up the shoe. Finally, the chapín was decorated with stamped or stitched patterns, gilt trim, and incised tooling in a Hispano-Muslim style with animal or floral designs.

The wide variety of cork-soled footwear spanned gender and rank, but chapines worn by elite women were distinctive. They were excessively high, gilded, jewel-studded, and often embellished with a metal ring around the base of the shoe, as much for durability as for panache. Each pair of these costly chapines could consume as much as half of yard of richly colored velvet or silk to cover the leather, as well as a dizzying array of embellishment options: hand-painted designs, several ounces of silver-gilt ornaments, gold thread, brocade, filigree, and semi-precious stones. It is not the height of the sole but the opulence of many chapines—embellished with embroidery and studded with gems—that moves the fashion off the street and into the royal court. Catherine’s sister Juana was said to have had more than seventy pairs, thirty-seven of which came from shoemakers in Valencia, a city famed for the manufacture of gilt leather. The Spanish passion for chapines crossed the border to Portugal only when another sister, Isabel, before leaving Spain in 1490 to marry King Afonso of Portugal, tucked into her baggage two pairs of chapines embroidered with gold thread that cost more than three-quarters of the price of a team of mules.

- Theresa Earenfight, The Shoes of an Infanta: Bringing the Sensuous, Not Sensible, “Spanish Style” of Catherine of Aragon to Tudor England

[the-heaminator]

magic trio magic trio

pls write me something along the lines of- nyo engitapan pls 😔 and something where one of them is a princess and the others are female leaders of groups and a lot of people thinking they're fighting over the princess but turns out they're holdings hands together

g a y s 

royal gays 

AYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY I tried so hard on this for no reason whatsoever and its so short and what in actual fuck was the writig style aaaa.

Names Alice (ali-CHE) Italy Sakura japan and Elizabeth England

Sakura, the youngest army general the realm had had in 3 centuries. Elizabeth, the leader of the second army, an army of magical creatures and humans and a witch powerful enough to destroy a whole state.

Then there was Alice, the queen of the kingdom. Beautiful as the sun rising on a clear day, over rivers and dales from far far away. She had many suitors, coming from kingdoms across the sea and from the mountains that held up the sky.

She rejected all, no matter their titles a few grew bitter and more than one tried to smite her, yet she never married one of them.

This sorely worried her mother who desperately wanted an heir yet Alice seemed to not give a care.

Though gossip around the court was that both leaders of the army pursued her, yet no one truly believed it as neither seemed to be romantic nor interesting.

Though what happened in the queens quarters at night would beg to disagree, indeed they were in a relationship, yes all three.

The terrifying general and the heathenous witch with the soft and kind hearted princess. It seemed like a very strange relationship, and it was in all ways and possibly more.

Alice was possessive, more than you'd think and the other two were submissive, maybe t’was a kink?

Over the years they grew closer, the three were practically married and there was no more gossip, everyone seemed to take this as fact yet this didn't seem to stop the suitors.

One day all three had had enough and made a scheme, maybe even a plot.

Though truly it was what all in the kingdom thought before, they would get married and that was for sure.

Alice proposed first, with rings of onyx and emerald, matching their eyes, crafted by the finest jewellers in the kingdom and must have cost a fortune.

Elizabeth proposed back a few days later, with a hand crafted necklace of silver and amber, and for Sakura, she decided on one made of the palest pink quartz, shaped as a flower, the flowers which she adored.

Sakura proposed not a day later to Elizabeth with an intricately carved blade, which she treasured for all her life and to Alice a ceremonial knife, passed down generations in her family to give to the person (or people) you marry.

They finally got married in what was the celebration of and for a lifetime and settled into ruling as a trifecta of queens, though neither left their roles as leaders of their armies.

It was agreed the crown would be passed to Elizabeth's youngest  sister, a child of merely 12 when they were married.

She had to ascend much too early, as not a decade after their marriage, war broke out in their once peaceful land. They won the war at the cost of their queens, it is what they would have wanted, fighting for people and for country.

A spear to the chest

An arrow to the eye

A sword used to behead

They were raised as the rulers of the golden age and sparked a long lineage of Queens and warriors.

Though who knows, they may just be a tale from old wives

Send me a polyship or rarepair request with a prompt and ill try to write it

[monstersandmaw]

Male drider x reader (sfw) - Part One

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

It’s Wednesday, so that means it’s ‘new’ story time. This one has been up on Patreon for a week already, and Part Two has gone live today already.

Content: Female reader takes up a job as an archivist in a creepy old house and is surprised to find that 'the master' refuses to be seen at all... Very much ‘Beauty and the Beast’ inspired, if you will. Cameos from Sarrigan Silkfoot and Damien the orc chocolatier (Tumblr links). Wordcount: 2464

EDIT: my favourite comment from patrons on part two has been ‘cranky spooder’

WANTED: Librarian to take on an extensive, re-cataloguing project in a large, private collection. Diverse collection includes books, clay and stone tablets, scrolls, parchments, and various other media.  Applicant must be willing to live on-site in a relatively remote location, and archival qualifications preferred, though demonstrable experience may suffice. Board and lodging will be provided throughout the duration of the project. It is anticipated that it should take between four to six months. More details to be supplied to the candidate following a successful interview.

---

You stared at the strange advert in the paper and let your teeth sink slowly into your lip, a frown playing across your forehead. This was… honestly right up your street in terms of experience and qualifications. In that moment, sitting at the table in your favourite coffee shop in Starfall Springs while a summer rain shower hammered down outside, you wanted to wave that advertisement in the face of everyone who’d said a postgraduate qualification in archive and records management would render you essentially bankrupt and completely unemployable. If this was anything to go by, they were only half wrong. You were practically bankrupt. Well, up to your eyeballs in student loans at least.

“Fuck it,” you hissed under your breath, ripping out the advert and getting out your phone. There was no email contact, but there was a number, and you saved it to your contacts in case you lost the little shred of newspaper, and decided to call as soon as you got home.

The phone wasn’t exactly your preferred method of communication, but it was all you had, so after psyching yourself up, you punched in the numbers and paced about, waiting for someone to answer.

Abruptly, the dial tone cut off, and a crackling on the other end of the line announced that someone had picked up. “Hello…? I’m… I’m calling about the archivist’s role advertised in the Starfall Chronicle… I was hoping for a bit more information.”

“Oh,” came a reedy, thin voice. “Your qualifications?”

You told them and then waited for them to speak.

“Hmm. And your experience?”

You swallowed. “I… I helped the Starfall Museum in transferring their computer system from the manual catalogues…” you said, suddenly feeling like this was the interview already.

“Mmm. So your experience is not extensive then.”

It wasn’t a question, and you ground your teeth.

“Just how am I supposed to get this vast acreage of mythical experience if no one hires anyone without it? I can get you three stunning references from the museum curators and staff, as well as from my professors at university,” you said hotly. And instantly regretted it. “I’m sorry,” you added hastily. “I didn’t mean to…”

“Yes you did,” they chuckled, voice husky and fragile. “And you’re perfectly right. I think you might do well at this in fact.”

“I… what?”

Another soft snort. “What information would you like to know then?”

“Where is it, for a start?”

There was an uncomfortable pause, and you’d just been on the point of asking if they were still there when they spoke again. “There’s an old estate to the north of Starfall Springs.”

You frowned. You’d heard rumours as a child growing up here that there was some mad old nightmare creature who lived in the woods on the slopes of Starfall Mountain and came down into the town on the new moon snatched naughty children from their beds, but you'd long dismissed it as nonsense to make kids behave. Still, it sent a tingle of apprehension down your spine.

“I’ve heard something of it,” you said carefully. “Not much.”

“Widowsweb Court,” the person said with reticence. “The estate dates back centuries, and the collection is in need of some care and attention. If you would be willing to live on the estate in your own, self-contained apartment, with meals provided in the kitchens of the main house should you wish it, then I think you sound like the right person for the role.”

“When would you want me to start?”

In the end, it took you less than a month to get everything organised.

On the evening of your departure, you and your friends celebrated on Temple Meadow, the huge swathe of public park surrounding the town’s religious building, and as you lay back on the blanket, staring up at the sky and surrounded by friends, you saw a shooting star sear through the canopy of glimmering stars above.

Sarrigan Silkfoot and his partner lay curled up nearby, and Damien, the huge orc from the chocolaterie in town, had tucked his own partner’s head against the crook of his colossal shoulder. A thought occurred to you as you watched Sarrigan toss his head back and laugh at a joke whispered in his ear, and you sat up.

“Sarrigan?”

“Mm?” he hummed, laughter still dancing in his eight red eyes.

“I know you don’t talk much about your family, but do you know of any other estates around here?” You hadn’t mentioned exactly where the job was, just that it wasn’t in Starfall Springs itself.

“Why d’you ask?”

“The place I’m going to for this job is called Widowsweb Court, but the library said it’s been abandoned for years, and I couldn’t find much about it on the internet either.”

He went still at the mention of its name. “Widowsweb you say?”

You nodded and realised you had the attention of everyone in your small group.

Sarrigan straightened and tucked a strand of his long, black hair behind a tapering ear. “It used to be part of the Silkfoot family holdings… way, way back,” he began, gesturing with his hand. “But about four hundred years or so ago, there was a disagreement between the then patriarch of the family and the dowager, his mother. He essentially annexed the property and disowned the entire estate. He could have sold it, but apparently he felt just guilty enough not to turf her out onto the street…”

“Why? I mean, what did she do?”

Sarrigan shrugged. “No idea. Knowing my family, it probably had something to do with anti-human sentiments…” he winked at you and added, “We really didn’t like your kind invading these parts…”

“We’re not exactly a majority round here,” his partner said, thwacking him in the belly with the back of a hand.

“True,” he said before turning back to you. “But you’re saying someone actually lives there?”

Damien leaned across and grinned, “Could be a long-lost relative, Sarrigan!”

“Well, whoever my employer is, they have a huge collection to reorganise, so I’m in.”

“You don’t even know the name of the person who’s paying you?” Damien gawped.

You shook your head. “A Mr. Ambleside is taking care of that. He’s apparently employed to keep the estate running and such… He’s the one who interviewed me.”

“Ambleside is an old family name from these parts,” Sarrigan said thoughtfully. “Well, you make sure you keep in touch, hmm?”

“Will do,” you nodded.

The only problem was, you discovered after Damien had dropped you off and fussed endlessly over you outside the tumble-down gates of the estate, that there was no phone reception way out here. Not even a single, sputtering bar.

As the tail lights of Damien’s truck disappeared, you pushed the iron gates open, the hinges screeching in protest loud enough that you thought your arrival would be announced all the way back down into Starfall, a two hour drive away.

Heaving your huge suitcase into your hand, you began to struggle down the driveway. Overgrown, potholed, and muddy, the road was barely even a road after the recent rain.

Ancient, thick-boled trees hung over the drive, branches meeting in the middle like lovers fingers interlaced, and after half a mile of walking, you stopped, exhausted, and sat on your suitcase. You’d made it out of the small, gnarled copse that bordered the edge of the estate, but the parklands that lay beyond seemed to stretch for miles. The thought of hauling your sizable suitcase all that way made you feel faint, especially in the stifling sun. There was at least a cooling breeze that lifted your hair and caressed your skin, but honestly, it was hopeless.

Eventually, after perhaps a quarter of an hour of sitting there, getting warmer and thirstier, and growing no less exhausted, you caught sight of a movement on the driveway. Squinting, you made out a horse and cart, and sitting atop the driver’s bench, a figure with a wide-brimmed hat on their head.

The closer they got, the more you were able to make out, and when they were perhaps fifty yards away, you stood up. They looked to be an elderly firbolg, with warm-brown skin and flaming red hair and beard.

The horse was an elderly, bony looking thing, and the cart just as rickety, but the firbolg drew to a halt beside you and barked your name in a familiar voice.

“Mr. Ambleside?”

“Yes, that’s me,” he said. “You’re early.”

“A little, yes.”

“Well, climb in. Do you need a hand with your bag?”

You looked at it, and then at the height of the cart bed. “If you wouldn't mind?”

He nodded and climbed carefully down. You weren’t sure how old firbolgs got, but he didn’t exactly look young. Having said that, he hauled your bag into the back like it weighed nothing at all and then helped you up to sit beside him on the bench before turning the cart around and heading back up the driveway.

The house itself was nestled in a clump of massive elm trees, masked from view until almost the last moment. “I’ll show you to the cottage, and then you can come up to the house for some refreshments. You’ll start work tomorrow at nine.”

You nodded, not wanting to rock the proverbial boat. “Is it just you and… er… your - our - employer here then?” you ventured after a few minutes of silence with only the rumbling of the cart for background noise.

He shrugged. “My boy works here in the grounds too, and there’s Chiara who tends to the household. Other than that, yes. And the master, of course.”

“Will I be meeting him?” you asked.

Mr. Ambleside looked positively scandalised. “Oh heavens no!” he gasped.

“Right. I see. He’s… unwell?”

That drew a deep scowl from the firbolg’s thick, heavy brows. “No,” he said, but it sounded like he was buying time. “No, he’s not unwell. He just… prefers a solitary life. You are to enter through the back door to the kitchens, proceed up the route to the library that I will show you, and return the same way when you’re done, is that clear?”

“Perfectly,” you said, wondering just what you’d got yourself into.

“If you need to use a telephone at any time, you may use the landline in my office.”

That news came as a huge relief, and you clung to it as you were shown the slightly dusty stable-house apartment just across the courtyard from the main house. Widowsweb Court was a massive country pile, with filigree stonework and steeply pitched, slate-tiled roofs, and it wouldn’t have looked out of place in a horror movie.

Your first week passed without incident. You assessed the vast, rambling collection, and saw immediately that it would definitely take much, much longer than the six months for which you’d been contracted to get to grips with it and get it into a decent order. Even if you had a team of ten strong people to help you, there was no way you could reorganise all the shelves in the cavernous library. It was as large and as varied as any national archives, and contained books and scrolls on everything from ancient magic to the development of medicine in various countries across the world.

Travel journals were rammed in next to tomes on mathematics, poetry beside animal husbandry, and gemology beside botany. There was no scheme to it, and after two weeks, you nearly had a complete breakdown.

Covered in dust and suddenly vastly overwhelmed by the looming, dark bookshelves, you simply sat down on the floorboards and let your head fall forwards into your hands. This was a gargantuan effort for one person to tackle alone.

Something rattled in the stacks and you gasped, sitting up straight, heart hammering. “Hello?”

Silence followed, but after only another few seconds, you heard a skittering of limbs and the slam of a door. Except, there was only one doorway to the library, and it was behind you.

Standing somewhat shakily, you swiped your tears away and paced steadily along the floorboards towards the source of the noise. When you found nothing but dusty stacks and silent  books, you swallowed and turned away.

At supper that night, you ate with Mr. Ambleside and his son, Naril, who was perhaps a year or two younger than you, and looked very much like his father. Noticing your pensive expression, he leaned over and asked in his softly-articulated purr if everything was alright. “You look… I don’t know… Did something happen?”

You sighed, nudging food listlessly around your plate. “I was feeling a bit overwhelmed by the project today…” you said. “And… I heard a noise in the library that startled me, that’s all.”

The two of them exchanged looks and then Mr. Ambleside said, “That was probably the master…”

“But I thought…” you began, though you hardly knew what you thought about the mysterious person who supposedly ran the estate, pulling all the strings from a hidden room in the old house and never revealing himself to anyone.

“Why do you think he wanted the collection organised?” Mr. Ambleside chuckled into his potatoes. “He’s an avid reader, but doesn’t have the patience to do it himself. Plus, he doesn’t see too well any more.”

“Oh,” you breathed. “All those books, and… that seems so cruel… Is he very old?”

Naril shook his head. “No, he’s maybe ten years or so older than us? Chiara reads to him in the evenings if his eyes get tired, and —”

“—Naril, that’s enough,” Mr. Ambleside barked, and Naril’s fluffy ears tucked right back against his head. “We do not gossip about the master.”

“Sorry, father,” he said, shooting you a look that conveyed a fair bit. ‘If you want to know more, ask me when he’s not around’ it said.

For another week, your recataloguing was left undisturbed by noises, but after four weeks of being at Widowsweb Court, you encountered ‘the master’ for the first time, and he was nothing like you’d thought he would be, though perhaps the name of the place should have given it away.

Part Two --->

To be continued next Wednesday... Part Two is currently up on Patreon so you can read it right now on the Pixies and Goblins Tier.

___

I really hope you folks enjoyed this one! Don’t forget to let me know if you did enjoy it by leaving a like and/or reblogging it!

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You’ll have access to stories before anyone else, and you’ll get instant access Patreon-only content as well, including polls and an exclusive monthly story for those on the Pixies and Goblins tier!

Currently I’m also running a CYOA for all tiers, with episodes releasing every Friday.

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[thebrotherssalvatore321]

Keeping Secrets Ch. 52

Keeping Secrets Masterlist

Katie was pulled from sleep the next morning by the loud, electronic whirring of a jackhammer on concrete. Half asleep and unhappy she threw on a robe and tied it as she headed out onto the balcony. “Enough with all the racket!” Klaus yelled from the balcony across from her, dressed in black jeans, a maroon shirt and a black leather jacket. Clearly he and Genevieve had been awake for a while and Katie was almost certain she saw red paint that matched the color of Genevieve’s hair on the tips of his fingers that rested on the wooden railing.

“What he said.” Katie groaned then looked up at the sunlight coming in through the glass ceiling of the courtyard, silently cursing it for being so bright as she headed down the stairs.

“I agreed to a general sprucing up, not a bloody three ring circus.” Klaus complained as he walked down the other set of stairs with Genevieve trailing behind.

“Marcel and his minions abused our home for the better part of a century.” Elijah said from where he stood near the fountain in a pair of jeans and a mid tone grey, quarter sleeved, cotton shirt. “Now you might be content to live in squalor,”

“With squalor.” Katie chipped in as she moved to stand beside Elijah, getting a glare from Genevieve that she didn’t see because she couldn’t make herself look at either of them.

“,but I am not.” Elijah finished what he was saying, ignoring Katie.

“I agree with your brother.” Genevieve told Klaus as they walked over to stand across from Elijah and Katie. “It’s a new era in the French Quarter. This place could use a makeover.” She looked down her nose at Katie. “Out with the old and in with the new.”

Klaus didn’t miss Katie’s lack of reaction to Genevieve’s prodding nor had he missed the fact that she was blatantly avoiding eye contact with him. “Yeah, I’m not in the mood for a girl fight this morning.” She sighed then looked across her shoulder at Elijah. “I get this isn’t my house, but next time will you please warn me before you host a jackhammer symphony in the courtyard?”

“Of course.” He told her with a smirk at her morning grumpiness. “My apologies.” He watched her as she walked around him headed back to her room to get dressed.

When she walked into her room she noticed a dream catcher sitting on the table in the corner amongst a few knickknacks. Seeing red, she snatched it off the table and, like a woman on a mission, stormed downstairs where Elijah, Klaus and Genevieve were still talking.

Both of the men knew the look on Katie’s face, the rage in her eyes and what it could lead to, but it was Elijah who stepped into Katie’s path to Genevieve before she got too close. He held his hand out to stop her, which worked, and tried to look her in the eyes, but they were trained on the woman behind him. “Katie…before you act I urge you to stop…and think.” With nostrils flared and rage still in her eyes she looked to Elijah’s that dropped, noticing the dream catcher clenched in her fist. He dropped his hand and gingerly took the hoop from hers then turned to Genevieve. “Does this…trinket belong to you?” Genevieve opened and closed her mouth looking like a land bound fish. “Either it does or it doesn’t.”

Genevieve looked across her shoulder at Klaus before her eyes fell to the ground. After a few seconds she made herself look at Elijah. “Yes, it’s mine.”

Elijah held it up in both of his hands as if he were holding a small steering wheel then twisted, breaking the hoop and causing the bones on it to fall to the floor. “We all signed that treaty.” He told her with a look over his shoulder at Katie then back at Genevieve. “If I find another one of these little spy glasses of yours anywhere in my family’s home I will consider it a violation and I will be forced to take action. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal.” Genevieve answered with a straight faced nod.

“So I suggest, if you have left any more laying about, you remove them…immediately.” He gathered the remnants of the dream catcher in his hand and held it out to her. She took it and went upstairs to collect the dream catcher from Katie and Klaus’s quarters. With her out of sight Elijah turned to Katie.

“Don’t look at me like that, Elijah.” She told him tiredly as she turned her back on him and headed upstairs.

“Katie.” Elijah called and she stopped in the middle of the stairs to look down at him. “After you have gotten dressed and calmed yourself…the three of us have some business to discuss.”

She gave him a sarcastic salute, “Ten-four rubber ducky” then headed up stairs.

TVDTVDTVD

After taking a shower to clear her head she changed into a pair of black leggings and a long sleeved, light grey shirt dress and headed to the room with the bar, couch and wall of records that she was starting to call the lounge where Klaus and Elijah were waiting. “So, what business do we have to discuss?” she asked in no mood to beat around the bush.

“Genevieve has requested that the witches' right to celebrate feast days be reinstated. Starting with La Fête des Bénédictions.”

“What’s that?” Katie asked curiously.

“The feast of the blessings. People would bring the witches gifts in exchange for their blessings.” Klaus explained and Katie once again didn’t look at him.

“Genevieve would like to use the feast to introduce The Harvest Girls to society. The gifts will be given to them.” Elijah added. “You signed the treaty and you are a part of this family. We need your help making the final decision on the matter at hand.”

“First of all, I know I signed the treaty, you don’t have to keep reminding me of what I signed up for when I did.” She started as she walked over to the couch and sat down across from the chair that Elijah sat on the arm of while Klaus sat at the bar with a drink in his hand. “And on the matter of La Fête des Bénédictions, I think we should let them.”

“Really?” Elijah and Klaus asked, both sounding surprised.

“Really.” She answered with a nod as she leaned back on the cushion and placed a hand on her stomach. “The witches won’t adhere to the treaty if we don’t show them some amount of respect.”

“I thought you hated the witches.” Klaus spoke up curiously.

Katie looked at her hands folded in her lap. “Truth be told the witches that I’ve been harboring so much hate for…the ones that took action and tried to kill our baby, are dead now.” She looked up at Elijah. “Plus I like Davina. That poor girl deserves a day of recognition after everything she’s been through. So I’m for feast days being reinstated.” Elijah, who had a frown on his face, turned to look at Klaus.

“I agree with Katie, plus the tourists eat this stuff up.” Klaus told Elijah

Elijah took in a deep breath then side nodded as if he’d been outnumbered. “I’ll personally invite the other factions and get them on board.”

“Are there any more matters that need to be discussed?” she asked, eager to get out of the room.

“That is all.” Elijah answered, so she stood and left. Elijah stood and looked at Klaus. “Is everything alright with you two?”

“I’m afraid not.” Klaus answered then threw back what was left in his glass.

“What did you do?” Elijah asked.

“Nothing, but she doesn’t know that.” He answered as he slid off of the stool and left.

TVDTVDTVD

Katie was standing in front of the open refrigerator, staring off into space, when Elijah found her. She was so zoned out that she didn’t even know he was there until he touched her forearm that was resting on the refrigerator door. Pulled from her thoughts she took in a sharp breath then looked at him. This time, she didn’t have to guess at the question in his eyes. “Did Klaus send you here to talk to me or are you here of your own volition?”

“I’m here of my own volition.” He answered, watching her shut the door, move to the overhead cabinet and opened it. “You seem troubled.”

“I’m fine.” She replied casually as she grabbed a box of chocolate pop tarts then shut the door.

“You can fool a lot of people. I am not one of them.” He argued as she opened the foil package, stuck the dark brown frosted squares into the slots then pushed down the lever.

She said nothing and moved to get a glass, but Elijah stepped in the way. “Get out of my way, please.” She told him sounding tired.

He turned to the cabinet, grabbed a glass then turned back and held it out to her, “Talk to me.”

“I can’t talk to you Elijah. Not about this.” She argued with a shake of her head as she took the glass from him then went to the refrigerator and grabbed the half gallon of milk. When her pop tarts popped up Elijah grabbed a plate, put them on it then set it on the bar beside her glass as she put the milk away.

“Have you tried reaching out to your Mystic Falls friends?” he asked as she sat down at the bar and took a bite of the cheap pastry.

“Yeah, none of them are answering.” She answered then took a drink of milk.

“Then it seems I am a last resort.” He told her and she gave him an aggravated look through her lashes as she took another bite. He leaned down, looked her in the eyes and placed his fingertips on his chest. “You can talk to me.”

She sighed and looked down at her plate. “Fine.” She washed down the chocolate with a sip of milk then set it down. “I saw Klaus kiss Genevieve last night.” She admitted.

Elijah frowned. “Was that not part of the plan?”

“It was, but…” she shook her head, “there’s a difference between knowing that he’s kissing her and actually seeing it.” Elijah moved to sit in the barstool beside her. “I was so consumed by my hatred of her, my fear of bringing my baby into an unsafe environment, my part to play in the plan to create said environment that I…convinced myself that I was okay with him being with her.”

“But you are not.” He observed.

“No, I’m not. I can handle him kissing her. I don’t like it, but I can handle it. What I can’t handle is him having sex with her.” she admitted feeling like the type of stereotypical, dramatic woman she usually despised. “Ninety-nine percent of the time I mean what I say and he knows that.”

“You’re afraid it’s too late to say something.” He surmised.

She bit her lips closed and nodded as she looked down at her pop tarts that had gotten cold then looked back up at him with worry in her Kelly green eyes. “Have I made a huge mistake?”

“There is only one way to find out.” He answered and stood up and started to walk away.

“Elijah.” She called as she turned around in the swiveling bar stool and he turned back to her. “Thank you.”

He gave her a small nod and smile in return then left her to finish her unhealthy breakfast.

TVDTVDTVD

She went to their quarters thinking Klaus would be there, but he wasn’t. So she checked his studio, but he wasn’t there either. Not knowing where else to look she went to her room. It was there she found him, exiting the nursery. Their eyes met as he was closing the door. “Is it finished?” she asked timidly with a point to the nursery.

“Yes. I just finished adding the final touch.” He answered noticing her change in attitude. “Would you like to see?”

She shook her head no as she walked over and sat cross legged on the queen sized bed. “Not yet.”

He walked over and sat down beside her, pulling a leg up on it, facing her. She took in a deep breath then let it out. “I hate beating around the bush so I’m just going to ask. Have you had sex with Genevieve yet?” she asked, getting straight to the point.

He slipped the backs of his fingers down her cheek, taking in the tired, worried look in her eyes. “I couldn’t.” he answered, making a relieved sigh slip from her lips as she grabbed his hand from her face to hold it in both of hers.

“I know I said I was okay with you having sex with her and I know I’m not usually one to backpedal, but…I not okay with it. I didn’t realize how wrapped up I was in this stupid plan of ours until I saw you kiss her.” Katie explained. “Some queens encourage their king to take on a mistress, I am not one of them.”

A fleeting smile graced his perfect lips. “You just referred to yourself as a queen.”

She let go of his hand to place one of hers on his cheek. “I’m your queen.” She clarified. “Wait, you said couldn’t, not didn’t. Why couldn’t you?”

“Several reasons.” He grabbed her hand as she dropped it from his face. “It may be possible for a man to fake completion, but it is virtually impossible for a man to fake arousal.” His confession made a small smile tease the corners of her lips as she remembered the conversation that had about her faking it with others in the past. “Kissing her is comparable to kissing a dead fish,” he told her as if he were reading a list, “and most importantly, she’s not you. I couldn’t take on a mistress even if you begged me to.” he kissed the palm of her hand then held it in both of his. “Not to mention I knew, despite your open minded tendencies, you didn’t want me to lay with her. You once said the thought of another woman flirting with me made you want to punch something. So if just the thought of someone flirting with me made you that angry what would me having sex with someone else do?”

“Well, when I saw you kiss her last night I almost broke the champagne glass in my hand. So if that’s any indication there would definitely be bloodshed.” She answered flatly as she dropped her eyes to her hand in his, thinking he was asking what it would make her want to do.

“It would break your heart.” He answered as he gently grabbed her chin and lifted it, making her realize he was asking what it would do to her. “Just as mine would break if you were to ever lay with another.”

Tears welled in her eyes as he dropped his hand to rest on her knee. “So,” she paused to clear her throat and blink back the tears, “what did the two of you do last night if you didn’t have sex?” she asked with a frown, wanting to know yet not wanting to at the same time.

“I gave her an, oh so heartfelt and completely untrue explanation for why I want to take it slow with her. I respect her too much to rush it, the women of my past that I was so quick to jump into bed with meant nothing to me, etcetera.” He told her with his hand on his chest then dropped it. “I thought she believed it, but that spyglass she planted in your room says otherwise.”

“Either she didn’t believe you or she did believe me.” Katie replied, making Klaus give her a curious look. “I may have gotten a little too catty last night and told her that her time with you was limited and to enjoy it while it lasted.” Klaus tilted his head at her. “I know, I know. I shouldn’t have said it, but she’s so freaking confident that I didn’t think she would read too much into it.” she said the two words with gritted teeth then sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “So, what do we do as damage control?”

“Ask Elijah to accompany you to the feast.” He answered simply.

“Come again?” she asked as she took her hand from her face and looked at him like he was crazy.

“We’ve shown her that I am not interested in you, now we must show her that you’ve decided to move on. If she sees you with him maybe she’ll think you are trying to rekindle an old flame.�� Katie frowned at him. “Just make sure Elijah knows it’s only for show.” Katie didn’t like the idea, but it was the best shot they had at cleaning up the mess her mouth had created.

“You’re sure?” she asked with a serious look. “It feels like we just crossed a bridge similar to this one.”

“I’m sure.” He was serious. “I trust you, which as you know is not something I take lightly.”

“Okay.” She told him with a nod then decided to change the subject. “So, how did it go with Jackson last night?”

“Once I told him that I could give him and his people a life in the quarter with no turning on the full moon he was all in. He and Cary are working on locating the black kyanite for the rings, but it’s rare so it might take some time to track down.” he answered. “Everything is going according to plan. And thanks to you being you and Elijah being Elijah we no longer have to censor ourselves in our own home.” He leaned in and caught her lips with his for a slow tender kiss. “What do you think about me asking Genevieve to break the hex on Father Kieran?” He asked.

“I think if she can break it, let her. Father K. is a good man. If she can save him from losing his mind and Cami from losing the only family she has left then I’m all for it.” she told him honestly.

“Then I will pay Genevieve and Cami a visit.” He told her then pecked her on the lips and stood from the bed.

“And I will get Nate to come dress shopping with me…again.” She said, hating clothes shopping this late in her pregnancy.

“Please don’t make it your goal to torture me all night.”

“Don’t worry. I dress to match the man whose attention I want for the night. This time that man will have to appear to be Elijah who prefers modest elegance over sexy and form fitting.”

“Before we go our separate ways for the day…” he held his hand out to her and she took it as she stood from the bed and jerked his head toward the nursery. Klaus pushed the door open and held his hand out for her to enter first so she walked in seeing the simple and understated, but elegant nursery. A dark wood crib with a ruffled, cream colored skirt around the bottom sat with the head of it in the corner of the room with a couple of pillows and stuffed animals inside and a mobile of strung up crystals hung over it.

In the corner to the right of it sat a wooden rocking chair and on the wall across from the crib and the rocking chair hung a beautiful painting of the city of New Orleans, the moon in the blue night sky that contrasted with the red lights from the city, reflected off of the Mississippi river. Katie walked over to the small white dresser it was hung over and picked up a stuffed Elephant that was sitting on it along with a few teething toys, a figurine of two giraffes and the wooden knight that Klaus had carved, then turned to look at him with the elephant clutched to her stomach. “It’s perfect.”

The tears in her eyes made him laugh. “It’s just a room, love, no need for tears.” He cupped her face in his hands wiping her cheeks.

She grabbed his wrists as she laughed with a sniffle. “I blame the hormones.”

“Ah, excuses, excuses.” He told her jokingly.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head as he dropped his hands to her waist and pulled her close. “So the red paint that was on your fingers this morning was that from this?” she asked with a point to the painting.

“Did you think I slept with Genevieve then painted her?” he asked and Katie nodded. “Painting that woman would be an insult to you and a waste of a perfectly good canvas.”

Katie slid her hands up his chest and rested her arms on his shoulder, crossing her wrists behind his head. “I love the painting you made for our daughter, I love this room and I love you, Big Bad Wolf.”

“And I love you, Little Phoenix.” He replied then caught her lips with his. When the kiss broke he gave her a smile. “So…you signed the treaty. Does that mean you have accepted your position as queen?”

“It means I’m willing to see if there’s any truth in what you and Elijah keep telling me.” she answered. “I just hope I’m not aiming too high.”

“No worries, love. I’ll catch you if you fall.” He told her as he wrapped his arms around her waist and she gave him a wrinkled nose smile. “What?”

“That was cheesy.” She laughed.

“Cheesy or not, it's true.” He argued then caught her lips with his.

TVDTVDTVD

Katie was having dinner at the bar in the kitchen when Klaus walked up behind her, swept her short waves to the side and started kissing her neck. “Long day?” Katie asked over the music that filled the room from her cell phone on the bar then stabbed her salad with the fork in her hand.

“You could say that.” he answered between kisses then sat down beside her. “I asked Genevieve to cure Father Kieran, but she used his ailment as an excuse to get her hands on my mother’s grimoire to solidify her place in her coven. When I told her no she mouthed off and I threatened her. Needless to say she’s a little ticked at me.”

“Well that’s not good.” Katie observed.

“No worries, I’m sure she’ll come crawling back for more soon.” He told her with a confident smirk that made her shake her head at him. “That just means I get to spend more time with you.”

“I like the sound of that.” she pushed her empty bowl away. “Did you have anything specific in mind?”

“I made an alteration to one of our bedrooms.” He stood from the barstool and held his hand out to her. She took it and let him lead her to the room attached to the nursery. When they walked in she instantly noticed the 43 inch tv that had been mounted on the wall across from the foot of their bed. “I figured it would be easier to watch ‘The Walking Dead’ together if the screen was bigger than the one on your laptop.”

“You want to watch ‘The Walking Dead’?” Katie asked with an amused smile.

“I’m interested in what catches your interest. This Daryl Dixon character in particular.” He told her as he settled onto the bed then held his arm out to her.

“Then I probably shouldn’t tell you about the Winchester brothers Sam and Dean, from ‘Supernatural’.” She told him as she crawled onto the bed and sat down in front of him. He wrapped his arms around her, but didn’t say anything so she looked at him over her shoulder to see him giving her a playful glare. “Dean’s my favorite.” She admitted with a cheeky grin just to mess with him.

“Now I don’t know which one I want to watch with you.” he told her, still glaring.

She laughed. “‘The walking dead.’ I like Daryl better and there are fewer seasons to watch.” She plucked the remote out of his hand and turned her attention to the tv. A giggle left her lips when he playfully growled and bit where neck curved down into her shoulder.

After Daryl made his first appearance in the third episode Klaus paused the show. Katie smiled to herself wondering what Klaus’s reaction was going to be. “That hostile, backwater, redneck is your favorite character?”

She started laughing as she turned around to sit on her knees in front of him. “If I recall you weren’t all sunshine and butterflies when you first came to Mystic Falls, mister judgy.” He rolled his eyes at her and rested his hands on her sides. “First impressions aren’t everything. Daryl comes across as an asshole, but he’s actually really caring and loyal.” She defended her favorite character. “Not to mention he has really nice arms and he hardly ever wears shirts with sleeves so there’s an almost constant source of eye candy.” She added just to mess with him and he gave her a side eye making her try and fail to hold back her playful smile.

“Eye candy huh?” he asked, making her laugh and nod as he grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled it over his head. “How’s this for eye candy?”

“That’s not eye candy.” She answered with a shake of her head as she set her hands on his wrists where his hands held her sides, her eyes taking in his perfectly toned torso.

“No?” he asked, sounding a little disappointed.

“No.” she answered as she looked him in the eyes and slipped her hands up his forearms and biceps to rest on his shoulders. “Eye candy is something that is only pleasing to the eyes.” she stood up on her knees and he closed his black pants covered legs so she could straddle them and sit in his lap. “You, Niklaus Mikaelson, entice all of my senses with your gentle touch…your warm, spicy scent,” She peppered light kisses over the feather tattoo on his shoulder, “the taste of your skin,” she kissed up to his ear and whispered, “The sound you make when I do this…” she kissed back down to where his neck met his shoulder and gently grazed her teeth over his smooth skin before she bit down hard but didn’t break the skin, pulling a groan from him that sent a tingle through her to her core. She pulled away and looked into his slightly lust veiled, blue eyes. “The way it feels like you can touch my soul just by looking into my eyes...” he grabbed her hands in his and threaded their fingers together. “It’s damn near spiritual.” A toothy smile took over Klaus’s face as he looked down at the bed, a hit of red coloring his cheeks. “Did I just make you blush?” she asked as she dipped her head into his line of view.

He laughed as he looked back up at her. “Maybe.” He told her looking bashful, something she had never seen from him before, making her smile bigger and him to wipe the look from his face. “You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to do that thing you do.”

She started innocently twirling a strand of hair around her finger. “Thing? What thing? I have no idea what you’re talking about, Big Bad Wolf?”

He laughed at her. “The one where you shower me with affection and outlandish compliments knowing full well that it has a very…” he let go of her hands and grabbed her hips, rocking her into him to let her feel what she does to him, “arousing effect on me.” Instead of arguing that her compliments were not outlandish like she wanted to, she gave him a flirty smile and bit her bottom lip. “Yeah?” he asked with a glimmer in his eye.

“Baby M. has dropped. I can breathe easier now, but my appetite sucks. So I have a small, energy boosting request.” She answered with a glance down at his neck.

He used the nail of his middle finger to make a one inch cut where she had bit him earlier then tilted his head to the side. “Have at it, Sweetheart.”

His whispered words sent a shiver through her that was only amplified when she closed her lips over the cut and a pained yet satisfied moan left his parted lips. His hand moved to hold the nape of her neck as she drank until the cut closed then licked over the healed skin and up his neck to his ear. “Neamhaí.” “Heavenly.”

A smirk pulled at the corners of his lips and when a deep growl rumbled up from his throat she pulled back to see the heart stopping view of his hybrid eyes. With a whoosh he moved her to lie on her back and a yelp followed by a giggle left her smiling lips at the sudden action.

TVDTVDTVD

The next evening Katie was walking down the stairs into the now refurbished courtyard when Klaus found her. “Well, I can’t say I don’t find you just as mouthwateringly tempting in that dress.” He told her as he took in the black dress with off the shoulder, three quarter sleeves of lace that continued over the bodice of the dress. The satin flowing skirt was short, stopping just above her knees, but the black panty hose and lace flats she wore with it kept it classy and elegant.

“Something tells me that you’d think I looked tempting wearing a burlap sack.” She told him with an eye roll. He just pulled the corners of his mouth down and tilted his head with a shrug agreeing with her. “So what are you going to do while Elijah and I are at the street festival?”

“Genevieve was all too eager to get her hands on mother’s grimoire.” He told her not being able to resist placing his hands on her hips and pulling her close.

“You think she’s going to try to steal it?” Katie asked curiously.

“Yes.” He answered. “She can’t risk not being seen at the festival, so she’ll most likely send a lackey or two. I’ll be here to intercept them if need be.”

Elijah cleared his throat and Katie turned from Klaus to see him walking down the stairs before she turned back to Klaus, who let go of her sides and tucked his hands behind his back. “See you at the after party?”

“Yes.” Klaus answered. “And I’ll give Davina the gift we discussed.” Katie cupped his cheek in her hand and caught his lips with hers. When the kiss broke she looked up at him through her lashes, a silent reminder that she loved him, then turned to Elijah.

“Ready?” he asked as he held his arm out to her.

“As I’ll ever be.” She told him as she took his offered arm and they left the courtyard.

“I’m a bit surprised Niklaus told you to ask me to accompany you tonight.” He told her as they strolled down the busy sidewalk waiting for the sun to set and the parade to start.

“I was too.” She admitted. “I just hope I’m not getting in the way of another woman who may wish to be wooed by you tonight.”

“I take it you’re referring to Francesca?” He said with a look at her across his shoulder and she gave him a knowing smile that made a smile pull at the corners of his lips. “If anything you are helping me send her a message.”

“And what message would that be?” Katie asked curiously.

“That her particular brand of business woman is not my type.” He answered.

“Then what is your type?” she asked without thinking as they walked past a booth selling glow sticks, light up noisemakers and other light up accessories.

“I’m afraid my answer to the question might overstep certain boundaries.” He answered with a look that only further answered her question. “So instead I’ll say you look beautiful tonight.”

“Thank you.” she told him with a smile that said she was grateful he didn’t make things too awkward.

“Have you already eaten dinner?” he asked to change the subject.

“I had a small bite to eat a while ago.” She answered. “Why?”

“There’s a vendor around the corner selling gumbo. I hear it rivals Sophie’s.” He explained.

“Thanks, but I’ll pass.” She told him politely, but he still seems let down that she declined his offer of a food he knew she liked. “I appreciate the thought, but the baby’s in a weird position. She’s been putting pressure on my stomach all day. I can’t eat more than a few bites of something at a time without getting sick to my stomach.” When music started playing from the speakers on the stage at the end of the parade route they stopped walking and turned to the street.

People all dressed in the same shades of light brown lined the outer edges of the street, walking with lanterns on poles while The Harvest Girls were carried down the street on sedan thrones like queens. “Are you at least able to enjoy the festivities?” Elijah asked with a look across his shoulder at Katie who was still holding his arm.

She took her eyes off of Monique Deveraux, who was currently passing them, smiling and waving at the cheering crowd while wearing a headdress of white roses, accented by earthy elements and a brown dress, to smile up at him. “Yes. Is there ever a boring day in this city?” she asked.

“Only if you live on the outskirts.” He told her with a smirk referring to the time she spent bored out of her mind at the plantation house. She just shook her head at him and went back to watching the parade.

Abigail, the blond harvest girl, representing air, dressed in a simple white dress with shimmering long sleeves and a head dress made of draping cords of crystals passed by waving elegantly to the crowd, trying way too hard to look like a princess. When a light breeze caused Katie to shiver, Elijah noticed, took off the jacket he wore over his suit and draped it over her shoulders.

Katie knew it would be pointless to argue with him so she simply said, “Thank you” and accepted the coat. When she turned her eyes back to the street Davina was passing by, sitting in her throne as the embodiment of fire in a bright orange dress and an orange, red and black beaded headdress. When her eyes found Katie in the mix of people her face lit up and gave her a wave. Katie smiled and waved back, just happy to see a smile on the girl's face.

“That is yet another example of why I believe you will make just as wonderful of a mother this time around as you were with Jonah.” Elijah told her, making her look at him from Davina. “You care about her for no other reason than she needed someone to. She’ll never forget your kindness and honesty.”

“I just hope the witches aren’t being as hard on her as the ancestors were.” She sighed then watched as the Harvest Girls were lowered to the ground and helped down off their thrones.

After they took the stage Genevieve joined them. “And now in accordance with the Fête des Bénédictions, the witches of New Orleans bless you all.” Genevieve stepped aside and Monique stepped up and held her hands out to the side. The earth shook and while most people looked around in awe, Katie and Elijah simply watched as she lowered her arms and the earth calmed. She stepped back and Abigail stepped up and held her arms up beside her head. As she made a sweeping motion the wind kicked up and Katie pulled Elijah’s coat tighter around herself until she dropped her hands and the wind died down.

Abigail stepped behind Monique putting the spotlight on Davina who turned from the crowd and held her hand out at a fleur de lis that was hanging behind the stage setting off sparks that outlined it and when the out line was complete fireworks shot up from behind the stage lighting up the night sky with bursts of green, white and purple. “Is it stupid that I love fireworks?” Katie asked Elijah as she looked up.

“Not at all.” He answered and she looked at him. “I enjoy them quite a bit myself.” She simply smiled and looked back up at the sky as he rested his hand on her lower back and followed her gaze.

When the fireworks were over Katie and Elijah moved to the entrance of the building the after party was being held in and stood just inside the gate, welcoming the guests with a smile. When The Harvest Girls walked by Abigail and Monique just gave them polite smiles, but Davina stopped, “I’m so glad you could come.”

“What you thought I’d miss all this?” Katie asked with a look around. “Fire suits you by the way.”

Davina smiled and looked down at her bright dress. “Thank you.” One of the witches called Davina’s name from the door, getting her attention and then waved her inside. “I gotta go, but we’ll catch up later? I missed you at the last party.”

“Yeah, of course.” Katie answered then jerked her head for Davina to go inside before she got in trouble for lollygagging.

Davina was disappearing through the door of the building when Genevieve stopped and looked at Elijah. “Thank you, for all of this.”

“This isn’t for you.” Elijah replied choppily. “I didn’t even want to entertain the idea of this silly party, but Klaus argued that your people would never accept a truce unless we showed them some respect. So be it.” he held his hand out to the door with a condescending smirk on his face. “Enjoy your party.”

Genevieve looked down at Katie standing next to Elijah, dressed appropriately in an outfit that was showing far less skin than Genevieve’s black dress with two slits in the front of the long skirt that were just inches away from meeting her hip bones, showing a generous amount of leg when she walked. Seeing that Genevieve was trying to figure out Katie’s one eighty when it came to party attire, Elijah wrapped his arm around her waist and closed the small space between them. Genevieve just lifted a brow and hummed at the new development before she walked off.

“Why did you just give Klaus all the credit for this party?” Katie asked, not mad, just curious.

“I simply gave her reason to believe Klaus is on her side.” he explained with a look down at her. “It goes without saying that your argument was the reason I agreed.”

Katie just shook her head and looked back at the people passing them by. When Hayley and Jackson walked into the gate they stopped and turned to Katie and Elijah. Elijah and Jackson shook hands while Hayley, holding a white gift box in her hand, looked at Katie. “Are we good?”

Katie looked at Elijah then back at Hayley. “Yeah. No harm no foul.” Katie nodded graciously. “Our agreement still stands.”

Hayley gave her a tight lipped smile. “Thanks.” She took Jackson’s offered arm as they walked into the party. Then Elijah took his arm out from around Katie, closed the gate then offered her his arm. She took it and let him walk her into the party.

As the party started and people started sitting gifts at The Harvest Girls feet where they sat on thrones, Katie noticed that not a single gift was given to Davina and it was starting to hurt Davina and piss off Katie. “May I ask what that look on your face is about?” Elijah whispered from where he stood next to her.

“They are excluding Davina.” Katie answered and Elijah noticed the lack of gifts in front of Davina. “Excuse me for a moment.” She went to the restrooms, made sure no one else was in there then locked the door as she pulled her phone out of the silver clutch she’d been holding all night and called Klaus.

“Are you alright?” Klaus asked when he picked up.

“I’m fine. Listen, the witches are excluding Davina. They haven’t let her receive even a single gift and that part of the night is almost over.” Katie explained.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she receives our gift.” He told her with a devious tone in his voice. “I’ve taken out Genevieve’s lackey and mother’s grimoire is safe. I’m on my way now.”

“Then I’ll see you soon.” She replied then hung up. On her way out of the bathroom she bumped into Davina. “Hey, are you okay?” The hurt look was clear on the girl's face.

“Not really.” She sniffled then noticed someone behind Katie. “Josh, what are you doing here?”

“Are you kidding, there’s no way I’d miss out on your big day.” Josh answered. “Besides, music, wind, fire, the club kid in me is, like, in heaven.” Davina smiled but it quickly fell. “You don’t look like you’re having much fun though.” He looked at Katie wondering what happened.

“The other witches are being petty, as usual.” Katie explained.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Josh asked Davina who nodded and they turned to leave.

Katie was trying to think of a reason for her to stay when Klaus’s voice hit their ears. “Joshua.” The two teens turned and looked at Klaus. “What a fortunate coincidence finding you here.” They probably thought he sounded angry, but Katie knew why he called it a fortunate coincidence that Josh was there. “We have unfinished business.”

“You need to leave here. Right now.” Davina told him, getting ready to defend her friend if need be.

“Now, to be fair, you’re not quite as powerful as you once were, are you?” Klaus reasoned. “You’re in no position to give orders.” Klaus whooshed behind Josh and grabbed him by the back of his neck. “Come along, lad.”

“Hey, can we talk about this?” Josh asked as he walked him out into the party, standing at the bottom of the stairs.

“Josh?” Davina asked with a look back at Katie, scared for her friend. Katie kept her face emotionless as she followed them into the party then walked back over to Elijah.

“What is going on?” Elijah asked, looking a little worried at his brother's antics.

“You’ll see.” Katie told him. “No one’s going to get hurt.”

Klaus left Davina and Josh at the bottom of the stairs then walked up a few of them to be the center. “Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention, please.” He asked with his arms held out to the sides as if he were the ringleader of a circus. “We’re gathered here today to pay homage to our beloved witches, but one very special witch has been utterly ignored.” He walked down the stairs to stand on the bottom one. “That seems a little unfair to me.” he held a small jewelry box, tied closed with a dark purple bow, out to Davina.

“No.” she told him with a shake of her head making Klaus’s diabolical smirk fall. “I don’t want your gift.”

“I understand why you would reject me, given my original intentions for you.” he told her, holding the box out to her, but she still didn’t take it. So he tucked it back into his pocket and addressed the rest of the room. “In truth, many of us here today have been wronged in the conflict which my brother's treaty ended.” He looked back down the Davina. “Your friend Josh was involved in a plot to kill me. It would be well within my right to execute him. Here and now.”

Josh looked nervously between Davina and Klaus. “I thought you said no one was going to get hurt.” Elijah whispered.

“No one is. Just watch.” Katie told him then looked back at Klaus.

“But, in the spirit of solidarity, and for your favor, Davina, I hereby pardon him.” Klaus said as he set his hand on Josh’s shoulder then looked down at him. “Josh, from this day forward, you have nothing to fear from me.” he dropped his hand from Josh’s shoulder then looked at Davina and pulled the box out of his pocket, holding it out to her again. “Please.” Davina took the box from him, making Klaus smile in triumph.

When Klaus walked away Katie left Elijah’s side to go to Davina who was staring at the box in her hand. “So, are you gonna open it?” Josh asked with a smile, happy to be off of Klaus’s hit list.

“You’re gonna like it.” Katie sing-songed with a smile as she bumped Davina’s shoulder with hers.

Davina just smiled then untied the bow around and opened the hinged felt box containing a silver ring with a blue stone and a folded up piece of paper. After unfolding the paper Davina cast a confused look at Klaus’s back then looked at Katie. “Is this real?”

“Yep, straight from momma original’s cookbook.” Katie confirmed and Davina beamed up at Josh.

“What is it?” Josh asked, wanting to be let in on things.

“It’s the spell that makes daylight rings.” She told him, making him smile, then she looked at Katie. “Thank Klaus for me?”

“Sure.” Katie told her with a smile. “So, how have you been?” Katie asked.

Davina frowned. “Better now that I can do magic again, but the coven hates me. Monique used to be my best friend, but now she acts like she’s so much better than me.”

“Yeah, I saw her give you a few smug looks.” Katie observed. “But you know what?”

“What?” Davina asked.

“She’s not the one who was given a page from the spellbook of a very powerful witch.” Katie told her, making her smile shyly.

Elijah walked up and placed his hand on the small of Katie’s back. “I hate to pull you away, but there are a couple of faction leaders you have yet to officially get acquainted with.”

Katie parted ways with Davina and Josh and let Elijah lead her in mingling with the faction leaders. The party was going boringly smooth when a group of men dressed in white suits playing drums came down the grand staircase Katie thought it was a nice change of pace, but when they announced that they had a message from Marcel and slit their wrists her opinion quickly changed and dread took over the pit of her stomach.

Elijah stepped out of the group of spectators that had gathered around to watch and spoke to the vampires in the room who’s true faces were showing. “Control yourselves. This is a vulgar trick. We do not violate our agreement.”

As soon as he finished his sentence the lights flicked off and screams filled the room. “Klaus!” Katie yelled not able to see a thing in the room, but before Klaus could get to her the lights started flashing and the face of Thierry appeared in front of her before he bit her neck. Klaus pulled him off and threw him into the wall behind him. Instead of going after Thierry he kneeled down next to Katie and scooped her up into his arms.

When the lights flicked on Elijah whooshed to them where they were on the floor, Katie with her hand on her bleeding neck. “What happened?” Elijah asked as he brushed her hair aside and moved her hand to see that she had healed.

“One of them bit her.” he answered. “I didn’t see who.”

“It was Thierry.” She groaned and sat up with Klaus’s help.

“This is all my fault.” Klaus said with wide eyes. “I went for his girl so he came for mine.”

“Klaus…” Katie sighed.

“No, he’s right.” Elijah spoke up. “If Thierry is out for revenge he will not stop until you are dead.” He told her then looked up at Klaus.

Klaus helped Katie stand up. “Are you okay?” Katie just nodded. “Stay with Elijah.” He told her then started to walk off.

“What are you gonna do?” he asked and he walked back over to her and cupped her cheek in his hand.

“No one harms my family and lives.” He answered then kissed her on the forehead and left.

TVDTVDTVD

Katie was getting out of the shower when her phone started ringing and she looked at it to see Bonnie’s name. “Bonnie, hey, I’ve been trying to get in touch with you guys for days now.”

“Yeah, I saw your missed calls, I’m sorry I didn’t return them. Things have been a bit hectic here recently.” Bonnie answered.

“Well, what’s going on? Is everyone okay?” Katie asked, worried.

“Everyone’s okay, but a bunch of Travelers took a lot of Stefan and Elena’s blood because the blood of the last two remaining doppelgangers can undo a witch's magic. A bunch of the travelers drank it and committed mass suicide. When they passed through me it did something to the other side. Spirits are getting torn away from the other side into nothingness and they’ve been able to interact with our side.” as Bonnie explained things Katie went to the closet and grabbed a pair of pajamas off of the shelf. She was walking into the bedroom when Klaus walked in with blood on his hand.

“I bet spirits like Mason Lockwood are having a field day with Damon right now.” Katie guessed remembering the last time spirits could interact with the living.

“Yeah it’s worse than last time considering this time I’m getting pestered by ghosts with grudges against Damon.” She said as if her statement was aimed at someone in the room with her. “Anyway I just wanted to call you and let you know that we’re all okay and to keep an eye out for vengeful spirits. I don’t know how widespread this thin vale thing is and with you living in a house full of originals…”

“I’ll watch my back.” Katie assured her.

“I wish we could talk longer, but I have to go.” Bonnie told her, sounding annoyed.

“Yeah, just…stay in touch, okay?” Katie asked.

“I promise.” Bonnie told her. “Goodnight.”

“Night, Bon.” Katie replied then hung up the phone.

Klaus walked out of the bathroom and slipped his now clean hand over her bare shoulder. “Everything okay?”

Katie grabbed her pajama top and he stepped back to let her put it on. “That was Bonnie, there’s something going on with the other side.” he frowned as she grabbed her shorts and pulled them on. “The spirits are able to interact with our side, she was warning me in case it wasn’t just happening in Mystic falls.” When she was done getting dressed she stepped back into him and wrapped her around him, resting her forearms on his shoulders while her fingers played with his hair. “Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary?”

“Nope.” He answered as he wrapped his arms around her, resting his hands on her lower back. “Have you?”

“Nope.” She popped the p at the end of the word. “So I take it Thierry is dead?”

“Yep, like I told you, no one harms my family and gets away with it.” he told her as he cupped her cheek in his hand, but she turned her head when she yawned. “You know he is just the first of many to come, right?” Klaus asked as she walked around to her side of the bed and pulled the covers back.

“Uh huh.” Katie answered and was about to slip into bed, but he whooshed in front of her. She looked up at him through her lashes.

“We have to talk about this, love.” He urged.

“You have enemies and your enemies tend to do to you what you do to them. It’s pretty obvious to me that you see, or have seen, love as a weakness and you’ve exploited that weakness in the past. So they will come after me because unlike the rest of the people you love I can die. It’s not anything I didn’t already know when I fell in love with you.”

“But tonight-”

“You saved me.” she pointed out then grabbed his face gently in her hands. “You pulled Thierry off of me and you saved…us.” she looked down at her stomach then back up at him. “I’m a human in a vampire’s world and tonight my life was threatened.” She moved her hands to rest on his chest. “It only reminded me that I have to take advantage of every moment I’m still breathing. We have to create as many little moments of bliss as we can because you are going to need them to look back on when I’m gone.”

To shut her up and keep any more talk of her leaving him from escaping her mouth he kissed her and he didn’t stop until they were both out of breath. “I will not let anything take you from this earth, you hear me?” Katie just nodded and let him scoop her up with a whoosh and lay her in bed then lay down beside her.

They didn’t talk, they didn’t kiss or make love. They simply enjoyed the warmth, the comfort and the relaxation of being in one another’s arms.

[semper-legens]

35. The Hunger Games, by Suzanne Collins

Owned: Yes Page count: 454 My summary: The Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games are about to start. Twelve boys and twelve girls, a pair from each of Panem’s districts, will fight to the death, with only one survivor. Sixteen year old Katniss hopes that this year, her name will not be called; but when her sister’s name is called instead, she volunteers to take her place. A skilled archer, Katniss will need to call on all her abilities to survive - and the Games themselves might be the least deadly thing she faces. My rating: 4.5/5

Who doesn’t know the Hunger Games, at this point. I can’t believe it’s been a decade since the first movie came out! I first read this series when I was a teenager, alongside most of the rest of the world, and I really liked it at the time. Since I’ve had Covid recently, I’ve not been able to get out to the library, so I’ve been hunting through my old bookshelves for new reading material. Returning to these books, I’m struck by how good they are. They’re mature, they’re interesting, their social commentary is on point - for the books that arguably codified the YA dystopia genre, these books singlehandedly destroyed the need for any other books in the genre, they get their point across so well and so succinctly. I really enjoyed this one, and I’m looking forward to making my way through the rest of the series.

Katniss is a much stronger protagonist than I remember. Not that I was remembering her as a bad one, per se, it’s just that on this re-read I’m struck by how good a narrator she is. She has her own opinions and perspective, but a lot goes past her. Her flaws as a character are obvious - she’s bullheaded, not good at people, dealing with a lot of trauma and pain - and so are her virtues. When she tells us about Panem and the Games, it’s always with her own viewpoint added in so it’s not just exposition. And she’s not that YA Most Special Person To Ever Exist - the book makes it very clear that Katniss would not have survived at all were it not for the people around her supporting her at every turn. Yes, she’s got a lot to bring to the table, but she probably wouldn’t have made it if not for Cinna and Peeta and Haymitch backing her up. Her best quality is her empathy for Prim that makes her volunteer, her raw anger against the system that makes her do these dangerous things that, yes, are gonna come back to bite her, but also are the spark that might bring down the corrupt system she lives in.

The social commentary of the Hunger Games is obvious, but no less interesting for it. It’s about celebrity, how we contrast conflict and fame, this glittery gloss the Capitol places on what is essentially a yearly act of mass-murder. About how authority will control people through every means possible, not just violence. How they will keep us distracted from focusing on the thing that’s really rotten at the core of society. The people of Panem cheer some tributes while condemning others - and never stop to think about the people who have placed these kids in an arena and forced them to fight to the death. The Capitol sees it as a tragedy, but justice for a war that happened three quarters of a century ago, before almost anyone alive was born. It’s honestly not that far from the kind of ‘justice’ some people in our world root for.

And God, these books are so well-written. I literally didn’t want to put them down throughout - I think the reason for it was Collins’ excellent pacing and use of suspense. Every chapter ends with a punch that makes you want to read more, every beat is well-timed and ends up slapping you straight in the face. Even knowing what was going to happen, I was on the edge of my seat throughout the entire book. Hats off to Collins for this incredibly engaging writing.

Next up, more teens murdering each other, as we dig into Animorphs-but-edgier!

[writingsfromstarfleet]

[Spock] Anniversary

♫ - Falling (In Dreams) - Telekinesis 

For the always brilliant @groovyfluxie, I hope you enjoy this! Thank you all for reading! Hugs! ♡

Four years. Time had flown by. Four years to the day that you had married the man you loved, four years since the best day of your life. Every day since had been wonderful. Spock was a wonderful husband, he couldn't do any more than he already was. Your anniversary had crept up on the both of you, given the busy work schedule, and you had prepared for him forgetting. Never had he done that in the past, but with the events of the past week taking their toll on both of you and the rest of the crew, you were hardly within right to blame him.

So it had come as a surprise when you woke up the morning of your anniversary to the smell of freshly baked bread running through your quarters. Rising, you walked to the kitchen area to determine the source. Rounding the corner, you were met with your husband, working away with his back to you.

"Good morning, ashayam." His voice was as level as always, yet it carried a soft tone that you had picked up on over the years; anybody else would fail to notice unless they were searching for it. Even after four years of marriage, the nicknames he gave you never lost their charm.

"Good morning, love," you started, walking to him and wrapping your arms around his middle. Staying turned away, he brushed his fingers against yours briefly before continuing. "What's all this?"

"I remember you mentioning a while back that you enjoyed the baked goods one your home planet, and so I have prepared you some to celebrate today."

You smiled gratefully at him, though he hadn't seen, and you stood tiptoe to press a kiss to his shoulder. Spock smiled, a rare yet beautiful thing, and proceeded to work on his masterpieces.

"You're far too kind," your voice was quiet, backing off so he could work freely, choosing to lean against the table instead. Turning, he raised his eyebrows incredulously, and you giggled. He never really did take your compliments well, especially those worded in such a fashion.

"You deserve everything, Y/N."

Spock was always sweet and caring, something others may not have expected from him. To others, he was cold and stoic, yet to you he was nothing but a hopeless romantic, showing you absolute love and adoration all of the time. That was one of the (many) reasons you had fallen in love with the Vulcan in the first place, and each and every day he proved to you that every feeling you had towards him was correct.

As the day progressed, the two of you spent it together, no thoughts of work ever crossing either of your minds. You took some time to eat and relax in the morning, idle chat filling the room, and by the afternoon, you were sat watching some old television shows that Spock had dug out, remembering how much you loved old 21st century media. These moments were what you cherished, thankful each and every day that you had Spock by your side. As you watched, you looked up at your husband, his eyes dropping down to meet yours as he felt you shift beside him.

"I love you." You knew how much you told him, at this point you definitely sounded like a stuck record. Unspoken, though, Spock felt his heart warm each time you said it to him.

"As do I you."

Night finally arrived, and you had done nothing but revel in each others company, having eaten and showered you were ready to call it a day. Standing by the window of your quarters, you gazed out on the view. Stars littered the vast space before you, each one glinting with an array of colours, lighting up the area surrounding the Enterprise. To some, it may have seemed daunting; to you it was comforting. You were where you wanted to be in every sense. Sighing, a smile graced your face. A pair of arms found their way around your waist and a kiss was pressed to the back of your head in an all too familiar feeling.

"Is everything alright?" Spock asked, voice full of care as he held you tighter. You nodded, turning in his arms to face him.

"Never has it been better."

"I hope you have enjoyed today, Y/N. I know that such dates mean a lot to humans in general. I can only wish I have lived up to those expectations."

You giggled slightly, wrapping your arms around Spock's neck, pulling him down so you could place a short kiss on his lips. He seemed confused, wondering what he had said that was humorous, accepting the kiss nonetheless.

"You have and always will be above expectations, Spock. Never have you let me down and never have you made me feel anything less than loved." You rested your head on his chest, and felt Spock pull you flush to his chest with one arm, the other finding your own hand and holding it. Looking up, you were met with his forehead meeting yours and a small smile present on his face. Your free hand cupped his face and you stood in silence together. These were moments that people on the opposite side of the door would never believe.

"Here's to many more, my love." You spoke quietly, not wanting to ruin the moment.

"To many more." Spock repeated.

[the-daily-multi-fandom-post]

Hey can you do Elijah mikaelson x reader where she is a demigod daughter of Zeus and she has similar armor like wonder women and she fight like her. The reader or older then Elijah and the mikaelson and one day the fall Inlove but the family espically Hayley don’t Iike her so they always look at her or say negative things about her not knowing she can hear them. And one day the mikaelson gets in trouble and she save them like in the scene in no mans land in wonder women and their awe of her.

Oh my gods yes!!!

I need more post like this! But I’m glad to be the one writing it! ❤️🖤❤️🖤

The originals: the daughter of Zeus.

Warnings: Death, kinda gore I guess, I don't think there is any cussing for the first time in forever!  cussing. pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x reader word count: 3, 2231 That's a lot of words I think.

"Who is Y/n L/n?" Rebekah asked as she looked at her brother Elijahs phone. "Why are you so nosey?" He asked as he pulled the phone to his chest hiding the screen from his younger sister. "Doesn't matter who is she? Is it someone I need to kill?" "You know who she is."  Elijah looked at his sister with murderous eyes. "If you dare lay a hand on her." He threatened. "Oh you mean this girl?" Klaus asked as he held Y/n up by her neck. "Help- me." You choked out. Elijah looked at his brother with frighten eyes. "Let her go." Elijah told Klaus with a dangerously calm voice. Klaus smirked, and Elijah knew he shouldn't have said that. "Okay." Klaus let go while snaping your neck. Elijah cried out as he jumped up in bed.

"It was just a dream." HE whispers, looking over at the lock on his nightstand flickered a 4:15 am. He sat up against the headboard, trying to calm his racing heart.

Y/n was the woman he had met years ago in (Your home town). She was absolutely flawless. Beautiful Y/s/t skin, amazing bright Y/e/c eyes, long/short y/h/c hair. She was amazingly beautiful. He had recently ran into her in Jackson square a month ago. Since then the two started talking again. *a Few hours later*

Y/n was walking down the french quarter enjoying her day when she heard someone scream. Looking around she seen it was just someone playing. She was always on guard, it was just a bad habit of hers to pay attention to her surroundings. And not like a normal person would pay attention to their surroundings but someone who is paranoid times a hundred. It comes with living for a very long time.

Y/n walked into Rousseau's. Y/n smiled, greeting the blonde perky Barmaid. "What can i get for you?"  She asked with a smile.

"Camille, That's  French isn't? Means Perfect?" Camille smiled and nodded. "You dont look famillar are you knew to town?" camille asked politely. "No, I've been here before. It's just been a very long time since, I've been here." Y/n spoke with a smile on her face. "I'll get a margarita, on the rocks,  please?" Y/n asked nicely, Camille nodded as she spoke, "Alright, I'll get right to it."  Y/n smiled as she waited for her drink to be made.

"Y/n, how are you doing?" Elijah asks as he sits down beside her on the empty bar stool. As she was about to answer Cami came back with Y/ns margarita. "Elijah, you know her?" Elijah nodded. "Yes, I've known her for quite some time." you could hear and see the smile  in his voice.  "Yes, quite a while hasn't it?" Y/n asked with a flirtatious smile.

"Wait is she?" Cami questioned knowingly. Elijah nodded and Y/n quietly giggle. Elijah still didn't know what Y/n truly was. . "Oh.." Cami looked at Y/n curious. "Can I have a bourbon, please?" Elijah asked as an awkward silence filled the air. "Sure, I'll be back."

"So, how are you?" Elijah asked politely, looking at you with his charming smile. Y/n smiled right as she took a sip of her margarita. "Quite well. When a little birdy told me you and your family was back in New Orleans, I couldn't help myself and come visit. It feels like it has been centuries since I have seen you last." Y/n joked, making Elijah chuckle a laugh. "It does seem to be centuries." Elijah continued the joke.

The two continued to talk, just enjoy the comfort of an old "Friend". Elijah updated her on the family even though she knew the met  family didn't like her Elijah had told her about them. So she would politely ask about them, not wanting to be rude. But Elijah always enjoyed talking about his family, but the family didn't like Y/n.

*Home town. 1765*

The L/n were one of the founding families of (Your home town/ or a town of your choice). Y/n was the daughter of Y/f/n and y/m/n. The L/n family were holding a ball for the town. Just to celebrate Y/ns birthday.

Y/n was wearing a light blue ball gown dress. It fit her perfectly showing off all the right things, but in a appropriate way. Your father would die to see how people dressed these days. Her Y/h/c hair was pulled out of her face put into Victorian kinda hair style. She had ruby red lip stick on and she just looked perfect (As always queen ;)

Y/n walked down the stairs, politely greeting the town folk who wished her a happy birthday. She slowly made her way through the crowd, politely reject the boys who asked her to dance. She wasn't a girl who loved big parties, nor the attention she got at the parties. She enjoyed small family get togethers. But ever since they founded the town the L/n family would have  extravagant parties for the entire town.

"My I ask the birthday girl for a dance?" Y/n turned around where the mysterious voice was coming from. Y/n smiled shyly just as she was going to say 'no' the man flashed a breath taking smile. "I guess one can't hurt." She responded with a nod. Elijah smiled as he took her hand walking out to the middle of the dance floor.

"You don't seem to be enjoy your birthday celebration, Lady Y/n." Y/n sighed as she nodded. "Well, it's not that I don't enjoy them. I just feel like after a certain age in life there's no reason to celebrate." Elijah chuckled as he looked at her a bit perplexed. "You're only celebrating your 17 birthday. I don't see how that is a very old age." Elijah said as he spun her around. Y/n nodded as she came back to stand in front of him. "Yes, but to me it does seem like it has been many life times."

Y/n and Elijah had a grand time that night. The two dance, talking about their lives while dancing. When they stopped dancing Elijah introduced Y/n to his siblings. Y/n enjoyed meeting them, though Klaus, Elijah's brother seemed quite skeptical of her. Rebekah began calling Y/n her sister, and Kol well he was Kol, very much a flirt.

Days after the party The mikealson's stayed in town. They were staying as a guest in the L/n family mansion. Y/n's father insisted on them staying. Y/n seemed confused when her father had announced they were staying, but she didn't pay any mind to it.

Y/n had grown use to seeing the mikealson's in her house. She loved when she and Elijah would take a lovely stroll in the garden. The two would talk just about anything, other then about who they really are.

Y/n walking into her house a hand basket full of sweet smelling flowers inside the basket. She laid the basket on the kitchen table. Smiling and humming as she grabbed a clear glass vase, but as she turned around she gasped dropping the vase.  Elijah had appeared out of no where.

"I apologize. I did not intend to spook you." He apologized as he rushed towards her trying to help her pick up the pieces of glass.

"It-t's okay." she stuttered out as she picked up the shards of glass. "Your cut." Elijah says pointing to the dripping blood on her hand. "Oh no, I'm fine. It's just a scratch." She made up as she grabbed a cloth from the counter. Ridding the blood with the cloth she showed him nothing was there, just a tiny scratch. "That's a lot of blood to just be a scratch." He spoke looking thinking maybe she was like him, maybe she was vampire as well.

"Elijah, come on." Rebekah called as she walked into the kitchen. "What's going on?" Y/n asked the blonde. "We're leaving. Did Elijah not tell you?" Rebekah spoke looking between the two. "I was about to, but I scared her making her drop a vase. I was just helping her pick it up." Elijah said as he put the glass in a bowl Y/n had put the glass in.  "Oh, well. I would say your goodbyes quick. Niklaus wants to leave as soon as possible." She said quickly. She gave Y/n a quick hug goodbye, then left the two.

"Well, I guess this is goodbye." She spoke as she walked Elijah to the front door. "Yes, I suppose it is. I do wish to see you again. Maybe, well see each other again in the future." Y/n smiled as she looked at him. Reaching up to him she kissed his cheek. "Its a promise."

Since it was near night time the Mikaelson family decided they were going to stay the night in an empty house in town. Not too far from the L/n mansion. Elijah pasted the living room, upset with his brother about leaving so early. "I don't know what you want me to say, brother. She is just not good for you! There's something about her. It's just not human!" Klaus bellowed towards his brother. "Why do you say that?! Because you think she is taking me away from you?! Because I finally care about someone who isn't family?" Elijah questioned his brother. Klaus rolled his eyes as he took a swig of his whiskey. Elijah huffed as he walked away from his brother. Going to his room for the night. Not feeling the need to talk to him. He was too angry to talk.

"If you feel like she is taking him from us then why don't you do something about it?" Kol spoke looking at his older brother. "What do you suggest I do? Just go up to her house, and murder her?" Klaus asked looking at his brother with a cold look. "It hasn't stopped you before with Rebekah's passed lovers." Kol pointed out as he nodded his head towards Rebekah. Klaus nodded.

Then later on that night as everyone was sleeping Klaus left the house. Quietly, hidden in the darkness of the night, he made his way to the L/n mansion. He quietly made his way up the stairs to Y/n's bed room. She was sound asleep, no lights on in her room, accept for the moon light leaking in from her open window. Klaus quietly walked over to her bed. Grabbing a dagger he had in held it up. He looked at her, she was  utterly exquisite. The way her hair shined in the moon light. "I'm so sorry, love." Just as he brought the knife down to her chest she opened her eyes. Her Y/e/c eyes staring into his blue ones. The dagger went into her chest and she gasped. "W-wh-at a-are yo-ou doi-ng?" She stuttered as blood began to come up. "I can't let you take my brother from me." He whispered, almost as if he was ashamed in what he had just done. She nodded as she looked up at him. "It's okay." She barely got out without stuttering. "I'mm.. I.. not.." Then she stops breathing.

Klaus sighed and tried to stop overthinking. "You did this to keep your family together. She was going to take Elijah away from the Family." He told himself over and over again all the way home.

The next morning they left before anyone could've expected it was them. That was the last time Klaus had seen Y/n. That's when he believed she "Died." But one thing still kept him up at night. What was she saying at the end. She was trying to choke out something but couldn't.

** back to present day.*

"Yes, I do believe that my lovely brother Niklaus tried to kill you." Elijah spoke in a lower voice. "Yes, well he didn't know what I was capable of." Elijah nodded and smiled, just enjoying the company of a "Friend", (The two were secretly together, but didn't want anyone to know. Aka his siblings *Cough Klaus *cough). Hours later the two had to go separate ways. Y/n had business to handle and Elijah had to go home since Klaus called saying he needed his help; which was never a good thing.

"I'll call you tonight?" Elijah asked as he looked down at the shorter woman. She nodded as she kissed his cheek. "Yes." She nodded and with that the two went their ways.

The night continued and Y/n had finished all she had to do for her work. She got an unpleasant text message from Hayley telling her that she was not to talk to Elijah ever again or a lot of bad things were going to happen to Y/n. Then Hayley called Y/n to make sure she would know that she was never going to be with Elijah. (Jokes on her, right?)

She still hadn't gotten a call from Elijah which made her worry. So she gave it an hour before she did anything. By midnight she was out of her house finding going to the Mikaelson plantation  in hopes that Elijah had just forgotten to call or was just a little busy with Klaus.

She quickly arrived at the Mikaelson plantation, it was a complete mess. Glass all over the floor, furniture broken. Something bad happened there. She tried to listen for any sounds in the house, but couldn't hear anything besides a very distant scream.

Running towards the sound she found herself going towards the bayou. It was dark, clouds hiding the once bright moon light. Luckily she found herself able to see. She heard the scream, but this time it was a lot closer.

Y/n quietly, but quickly ran towards the noise. She could see the Mikaelson family surrounded by three giant groups. She could only assume the groups were witches, werewolves, and vampires.

None of the Mikaelson family noticed Y/n lurking in the darkness. She was kind of good at not being noticed, how do you thinks she has lived for thousands upon thousands of years.

Y/n quickly grabbed a hold of a red haired witch breaking her neck then going to three more and doing the same, all while going unnoticed.

Some turned their heads a the sound of a thump, but didn't really know what happened. She smiled as she seen a vampire meet her eyes. She ran towards it as it announced to the others she was there. She like a challenge and there was at least a hundred creatures there in front of.

First three vampires came at her and she smirked. Pulling the hearts out of the first two and taking the heel of her shoe and kicking the third one down to the ground. The two vampires dropped to the ground dead. She took a dead branch from off the ground staking the vampire that lied on the ground.

"This is fun." She spoke with a smirk plastered on her face. Clapping her hands together a giant sound wave came through, throwing them back. Some of the vampires dying from being staked by the branches. Some of the witches were thrown against the trees breaking their necks. Y/n grabbed a stick that had just so happened to be laying beside her. She threw it and it went through two of the witches. Y/n felt an arm wrap around her as someone flung her over their shoulders and slammed her onto the ground. It she was human her spine would've been shattered. She took her leg and kicked the werewolf's knee completely breaking it. She stood up, her hand went through his chest to his heart. "Shouldn't have done that." She spoke with a dangerous glare then ripped his heart out.

She heard the witches begin chanting and she rolled her y/e/c eyes. "Wish that worked on me, but it doesn't."  She said she she rubbed her hands together sparks flying every which way from her hands. "Light 'em up." She thought to herself. Strikes of lighting came out of her hands frying the witches that were left. All that was left was a handful of vamps and werewolves.

"Now, you can either leave alive or you will die." She offered to the two groups. The two groups looked at each other and then back to Y/n. Nobody left so Y/n nodded. "Playing hard to get. Love it." She spoke sarcastically. A blue flamed fire started around the two groups. "My uncle is Hades. And he has taught me a lot. One of those things is how he loves visitors. So when Y'all see him in the underworld, tell him I said hello. The flame ingulfed them quickly killing each of them. After Y/n knew they were dead she put the fire out.

Running over towards Elijah and his siblings she asked, "Are you guys okay?" Completely worried about them. Yet not even out of breath after she had just kill one hundred supernatural creatures. "How in the bloody hell are you still alive?" Klaus whispered as he looked at Y/n.

"I'm not an average person." Y/n answered as she untied the vervain/wolfsbane rope.

"Obviously. How did you do all of that?" Rebekah asked. Y/n was going to answer when the rest of them started asking questions, except for Elijah. He didn't know what she was, but he knew she wasn't a vampire. He thought she was, but now? Now he wasn't sure.

Later that night Y/n and the Mikaelson siblings went back to the Mikaelson plantation house. The Mikaelson siblings got showers getting the blood off of them. Then after they were done they all met up in the living room waiting for an explanation from Y/n.

"I've been alive much longer then the rest of you. I've been alive since the beginning. My father is the god Zeus. He's the god of sky and thunder and the king of all the other gods and goddesses. I've got the powers of pretty much all the gods. I've been taught how to control my powers and sometimes even share them. I don't so Kol don't get any ideas." She told Kol as soon as she seen his face light up.

"Why didn't you tell anyone?" Elijah asked as he took her hands in his.  "Well, because the same reason y'all don't tell people you guys are who you are. I have a great many of enemies. If I go around saying, 'hey, I'm Y/n the demi god, daughter of Zeus, people would think I'm nuts. And my enemies could easily find me." She explained.

"I'm sorry, for all the horrible things I’ve said about you and said to you." Hayley said as she looked at Y/n sincerely.  Hayley was upstairs taking care of Hope. (She had just came back from a friends house out of town).

"I mean we were all terrible to you. And you saved us." Rebekah said looking at Y/n with a look that showed she was truly sorry. "It's okay, I understand where you guys were coming from

. Nothing gets in the way of family." She says with a smile. And then they just sit around in the living room asking her all about the gods and what they're really like. If Percy Jackson was really Poseidon's son, of course he is. Y/n felt like they really did treat her like family afterwards. Each other them brought her in like she was family. No longer seeing her as someone who was trying to break up the family. But as someone who might just bring the family together.

The end*