#the fucking LEAST you could do is read that fucking message and respond accordingly

[tripably]

the all-consuming rage of having to report an issue with a service provider and being treated like an absolute idiot by the customer service jerk

[crazy-loca-blog]

Hello hello! Are you ready for a change? Here we go with:

Not Yet Wed Questions

Note: Great Scott! This week, we are going back in time to MC’s intern year. Think of Ethan’s relationship with them at this point and answer the following questions accordingly. It is entirely up to you when in year 1 this takes place (pre/post Miami, pre/post CH 15, etc). Feel free to answer with dialogue or pictures or both :) Have fun!

No worries. All of this is off the record and HR will never know!

The setting for this answers is:

For Both

When I first saw them, I thought__________

What is your coworker's most used swear word?

Quick: What color are their eyes?

Three people at work your coworker hates?

What is your coworker’s strangest or most endearing quirk?

If they had a crush on anyone at work, who would that be?

(Bonus round! Feel free to skip.)

Never have I Ever:

come into work hungover

had a fistfight

been kicked out of a bar

gotten a tattoo

broken someone’s heart

been in love

For MC (Ethan is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

What do you find the most impressive about him?

Last thing he texted you?

If he asked you out on a date, what would you say?

For Ethan (MC is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

What specifically do you find attractive about her?

Last thing she texted you?

If she asked you out on a date, how would you respond?

Hey Bree!!!

Oh... my... God (read it in Janice's voice, of course)... this is brilliant!!

In my head, there was a time where they both were trying to figure out whether their feelings were real or if everything was just a consequence of spending so much time together (nope, it's canon that Casey has a lot of doubts about herself and her abilities to be a doctor, so given the fact that she lacks of confidence, there is no way in my head that Ethan was the only one having doubts about them and their feelings for each other). So this is before Miami, somewhere around chapter 8, but before chapter 9. The interview takes place at the diagnostics team office... and Bree herself is the one in charge of asking the questions this time!

Masterlist

Ethan: Please remind me why are we doing this instead of taking care of our patients...

Casey: Because you deserve to do things for fun... and our shifts ended an hour ago... now stop complaining, Bree is already here to ask us some questions...

~~*~~*~~

For Both:

Bree: When I first saw them, I thought __________

Casey: I didn't think anything... I was freaking out because the patient was dying! I was only fully aware that he was next to me when he held my hand because I was shaking. The whole situation is a little blurry in my head.

Ethan: I thought she was the only one in the room with the minimal knowledge to help me save that woman. I couldn't understand why she was just standing there instead of helping.

Bree: What is your coworker's most used swear word?

Both, in unison: fuck!

*Laughs*

Ethan: She also says "dammit" when things don't go the way she wants, but you know that she is really mad when she begins to swear in German. Or what she says is German.

Casey: An exchange student at medical school taught me a few things, so yes, it's German. He also says "Christ" and "Jesus" quite a lot. Weird for a non-religious guy, if you ask me...

Bree: Quick: What color are their eyes?

Casey: Blue

Ethan: Green

*They look in the eyes and smile to each other ... maybe longer than expected*

Bree: *thinking to herself* Why am I suddenly feeling like the third wheel here?

Bree: Three people at work your coworker hates?

Casey: Not fair! He hates everyone at work!

Ethan: I don't hate you

Casey: Now I do feel special

Ethan: You should

*Casey wide-opens her eyes and tries not to blush*

Ethan: *realizing what he just said* I... I mean... what I'm trying to say is that you're not as the other interns, so working with you is very enjoyable, even though you're still stubborn and a pain in my ass... don't let it go to your head...

Casey: Too late... I feel honored... but going back to the question, I don't think it's that hard... Dr. Cyrus, Dr. Thorne...

Ethan: *under his breath* ...assholes...

Casey: ...and even though you don't hate her as a person, you've made Dr. Emery's job a hell this year, so I'm not so sure if you actually like working with her...

Ethan: It's equally hard for me because you seem to like everyone and everyone seems to like you... but... even if you don't seem to hate them, I know at least three interns that you'd prefer not to work with: Dr. Emery, she left you dealing with your first patient by yourself and she only takes the cases that she finds interesting and challenging... Dr. Varma, she is a very good doctor, but I have no doubt that she'd throw you under the bus to win the competition... and the other one is your roommate...

Casey: Sienna? I mean... Dr. Trinh?

Ethan: No, no, the guy...

Casey: Dr. Greene?

Ethan: No, the other one...

Casey: Dr. Olsen?

Ethan: Him! I always forget his name... You both are like oil and water. The way you envision patient care is very different to his, so you don't feel comfortable working with him.

Casey: How do you know that?

Ethan: Simple observation... don't forget that I'm constantly evaluating you all.

Bree: What is your coworker’s strangest or most endearing quirk?

Casey: He pinches the bridge of his nose more times than I can count in a day.

Ethan: She unconsciously fidgets with her hands when she's nervous and she bites her lip when she's too concentrated thinking about something or when she knows she did something wrong.

Bree: If they had a crush on anyone at work, who would that be?

Ethan: Don't deny it, I've seen you with the paramedic... and the surgeon...

Casey: Your people watching abilities must be failing, Dr. Ramsey... I adore them, but they're just friends...

Ethan: I'm very convinced that they don't see you "as a friend"...

Casey: *blushing* Do you think so?

Ethan: I don't "think so", I know it

Casey: What about Dr. Emery? I might have seen things, too...

Ethan: I don't know what was I thinking when I told you we used to date...

~~*~~*~~

Never have I Ever:

Casey: Yay! Bring the drinks!

Ethan: Rookie, we're at a hospital.

Casey: Who said anything about alcohol? I was thinking about the coffee...

Ethan: *Pinching the bridge of his nose* Interns...

Bree: come into work hungover

*They both drink coffee*

Casey: How many times?

Ethan: Once, in my intern year... I learned my lesson the hard way... what about you?

Casey: Same...

Ethan: So, here is the deal... you don't tell my secret and I don't tell yours...

Casey: Deal!

Bree: had a fistfight

*They both drink coffee*

Ethan: *surprised* You?!

Casey: It wasn't a fistfight, but I might have punched a girl back in high school... she was bullying me... I tried talking to her, but apparently she didn't get the message... there is a part of me that regrets it, but there is also a part of me that tells me I did the right thing.

Ethan: Did she keep bullying you after that?

Casey: Nope

Ethan: Then you did the right thing, Rookie

Casey: *smiling* What about you?

Ethan: Same, actually... never been on a fight, but I punched an ass once

Casey: *laughing* Do you expect me to believe that?

Ethan: What?

Casey: None of what you said! There is no way that you punched a person just once...

Bree: been kicked out of a bar

*Casey drinks coffee*

Ethan: Again?

Casey: One of my friends fell asleep at the bar...

Ethan: No comments...

Bree: gotten a tattoo

*None of them drink coffee*

Casey: ...nope...

Ethan: ...not my type of thing...

Bree: broken someone’s heart

*None of them drink coffee*

Casey: Not that I know...

Ethan: I have no idea...

Casey: Come on... I'm sure you have... look at that face!

*Casey points at Ethan's face*

*Ethan drinks coffee*

Ethan: Maybe in my teen years...

Casey: I knew it!

Bree: been in love

*None of them drink coffee*

Casey: I thought I had, but I've been thinking a lot about it lately... and I'd say no.

Ethan: Intimate feelings are just neurochemical responses, I don't even think that "being in love" is a thing.

~~*~~*~~

For Casey (Ethan is not there)

Bree: For this part of the interview, I want you to know that your answers will remain confidential... everything will stay between us.

Casey: Okay...

Bree: Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

Casey: This is Ethan Ramsey we're talking about. He could do whatever he wants to and he'll succeed. He's driven and a perfectionist, so he'll always find a way to achieve his goals. I don't see him leaving Edenbrook, he would have left forever ago if he had wanted, so I guess he feels comfortable here. An admin? I don't think so, his passion is working with patients. But you never know.

Bree: What about his personal life?

Casey: I just want him to be happy. He has a tough exterior and I know he seems to be an ass at first, but he's one of the most caring people I've met. And even though I don't know what exactly happened, after you get to know him, you can tell he's gone through a lot, so he deserves the best in life.

Bree: What do you find the most impressive about him?

Casey: The most logical answer would be his mind. He is a brilliant doctor. But above all, he is an amazing human being. He has morals, he is noble and he'll always go the extra mile for the people he cares, in his very Ethan Ramsey's way that is. Most of the time, he is not conscious of what a good guy he is.

Bree: Last thing he texted you?

Casey: His address... we are treating a patient who asked us to keep things private, so there are some things about this case we can't discuss at the hospital.

Bree: If he asked you out on a date, what would you say?

Casey: He won't know these answers, right?

Bree: Nope.

Casey: Pinky promise?

Bree: Pinky promise

Casey: *blushing* Okay, so... thinking about this as a very hypothetical situation where he asks me out... because we know that's not going to happen because he is my boss and I'm an intern... not that you can't do it, but it just wouldn't be okay... I think I'd say yes. I mean... look at him! He is incredibly handsome and he could have any woman he wanted! Just add his mind to the mixture and you have the full package... yes, he is the type of person that I'd want to get to know better.

Bree: *smiling* Thank you, Dr. Valentine!

~~*~~*~~

For Ethan (Casey is not there)

Bree: Okay, Dr. Ramsey, for this part of the interview, I want you to know that your answers will remain confidential... everything will stay between us.

Ethan: This is scary...

Bree: Where do you see her in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

Ethan: She'll take over the world by storm. I know she is supposed to be at Edenbrook for three years, but if she wants to stay and I have to do it, I will fight every person on the board to retain her here, losing her as an attending would be an irreparable loss for this hospital. But she'll always shine, wherever she decides to go after her residency.

Bree: What about her personal life?

Ethan: I don't care about what my coworkers do outside the hospital, so I don't think it's correct for me to talk about it. But of course I want her to be happy, she is a good person, so she deserves the best... I really hope that she manages to find the balance between her personal life and her professional development... *shows some sadness in his eyes* ...being a doctor is not easy.

Bree: What specifically do you find attractive about her?

Ethan: *coughs* I don't know if it's appropriate to answer that, she is my intern after all.

Bree: She did answer...

Ethan: *visibly uncomfortable* Did she? Of course she did... she is brutally honest... and she is the best secret keeper I've ever known... she is also gentle, caring and an amazing doctor... and her eyes and her smile say a lot... *realizing that he's telling more than he's actually willing to say* next question?

Bree: Last thing she texted you?

Ethan: That she was coming late to the place we had agreed to meet because she had a last minute problem on her shift.

Bree: If she asked you out on a date, how would you respond?

Ethan: I assume she answered this one, too...

*Bree smiles and nods at him*

Ethan: *blushing and visibly uncomfortable* Okay, so... I'm going to give you two answers. As a doctor, I would have to decline her invitation. Not only we are colleagues, I'm also her boss. My mission as her boss is to push her to be the best doctor she can be, she has the potential for it, I can see it. Also, she is participating on a competition to earn a spot in my team. So any type of relationship outside the work between us not only is inappropriate, it's unfair for the rest of the interns. As a man... you promise me that this conversation stays between us?

Bree: Yes

Ethan: Then... as a man... not only she is a beautiful woman, she is also smart and caring... she is incredible, and I don't understand how in the world she's been single for so long. No one would dare to say "no" to her.

Bree: Thanks a lot for your time, Dr. Ramsey...

*Bree starts to leave the room, but she suddenly turns back*

Bree: Dr. Ramsey, can I give you one piece of advise?

Ethan: I don't think I need it, but go ahead, Ms. Bree...

Bree: You should ask her out...

[wolfpawn]

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 9

Chapter Summary -  Taylor's little plan comes to fruition, leading to Tom and Benedict coming to verbal blows.Danielle becomes distressed at what is done, but Benedict comes up with a little plan to help everything.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long.  This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog  @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer

The source stated that the pictures shown are clearly visible within Diana Hiddleston’s Suffolk home; and that she will happily show them and more to any who visit. The source also stated however, that to be told some of the A-list actor’s more embarrassing secrets, such as the time he ran stark naked, at eight years of age through a family get together because he cousin dared him to, takes years of earning the family’s trust and planting the idea that such stories in no way interest a person.

Tom stared at the small online article, which was very little writing and mostly photographs, all of him and his sisters as children, all personal ones that he knew his mother kept as cherished memories, and a few pictures of his mother’s living room and hallway. He shook with anger; he knew who the article was referencing as the ‘source’. The Jones’ that lived down from his mother were good at giving friendly salutes, but nothing more and the Kaleka’s were polite, but they were too young to really bother with his mother, both of them were the one age with him; that left only one person, one that he knew did know those stories, since he was dying of mortification as his mother relayed them to her in the living room one afternoon in his presence; Danielle. Taylor had been right all along, Danielle had been simply biding her time until she could strike and make some money for herself.

Picking up his phone, he went to call Luke to deal with it, and to see what he could do about getting Danielle sorted with an NDA. It was then he realised he had a missed call, so calling his voicemail; he put his ear up to it. It was Benedict, much to his surprise, and going by his message, he had seen the piece. Feeling somewhat vindicated, Tom pressed the callback button.

“Tom.” Benedict’s voice seemed somewhat relieved at the other side of the phone. “I am glad you called back.”

“I get it, you were wrong, she had everyone fooled,” Tom stated sympathetically.

“What?”

“Danielle, her big piece she is after giving the tabloids. Taylor said it would happen, and she was right.”

“Danielle, no you got it all wrong Tom, I was talking to her there a minute ago, Taylor was threatening her.”

“They’ve never even spoken, so that’s bullshit.” Tom dismissed. “Are you actually defending her?”

“Danielle? No, I’m not, because there’s nothing to defend. I have no idea what you are even on about.”

“She sold off a story to the papers, pictures from within my mum’s home; stories about me.”

“Are they really personal?”

“Not really, but she is probably saving them for next.”

“Tom, seriously, she knows some of your more personal stuff, she would not tell a little and not tell that, it’s not her, whoever your leak is, it’s not Danielle.”

“And you know this for sure?”

“Well, no, but I really doubt it, she is not the kind.”

“Are you fucking her?” Tom accused.

There was silence on the other side of the line for a moment. “Excuse me?”

“Are you fucking her? You seem really defensive of her.”

“Are you shitting me, Tom, I have a wife and kid and you are asking me if I am shagging your mother’s neighbour? A woman that lives three hours away? What the hell is going on in your head?”

“Well, you seemed all too cosy going into her house before, and you were talking to her earlier.”

“She’s…”

“What, turning up near you? That’s a bit convenient, isn’t it? Be careful or you will be next.”

“Tom, are you actually listening to yourself, you know Danielle would never fuck a married man, and I damn well would never fuck a woman that is not my wife.” Benedict snapped. “I came on to tell you to watch out for your little sweetheart, but it’s clear she’s screwed you up already, I hope she’s worth it, I really do.”

With that, the line went dead, leaving Tom staring at it angrily before tossing it onto the couch. He rubbed his hands over his face and sighed. Anytime of late that Elle’s name came up in any conversation, it was immediately followed by anger and arguments. His phone went off, telling him he had a text, so he walked over and read it.

Taylor – I told you, OMG I told you.

He did not know what to say back, so he tossed it down on the couch again, before crashing down beside it and wondering what he could do.

*

Benedict looked at the phone, shaking in anger at what Tom was insinuating.

“Did I actually hear that right?” Sophie asked from beside him, holding Christopher’s hands as he tried to walk a few steps.

“Apparently I am shagging his mother’s neighbour, just a heads up.”

“Nice of you to tell me,” Sophie replied jokingly.

“If it is any consolation, I didn’t know myself until a moment ago.”

Sophie scoffed. “Was that the paramedic I saw you and Will taking to?”

“Yep.”

“She’s pretty.”

“She is, I suppose, I have a wife so I would not be looking.” He grinned back. “Apparently, she’s taken anyway; I heard her on the phone yesterday to a guy, Paul, setting up a date.”

“That’ll put the brakes on any relationship you two are secretly having.” Sophie laughed.

“It is highly inappropriate of her to do so when we are supposed to be having a somewhat interesting, illicit and albeit highly false affair. God; that is the most insulting thing I have ever heard from a supposed friend, and honestly, I am not sure who it is more insulting to.”

“I’m not sure,” Sophie admitted, leaning in as Benedict placed his arm around her. “What are you going to do?”

“Danielle is on set again this evening, I might see her there.”

“At least it did not name her.”

“Yet.”

“Do you think she knows?”

“How can she not? God this is ridiculous. What is going on Sophie?”

Sophie shook her head slightly. “I have no idea, Tom is so…”

“Before this, I would have said, level-headed, intelligent and calm, but now…now it’s like there is something that has clicked off in his head, I feel like shaking him to get him to wake up again. He really thinks she did this.”

“Could she have?”

“Well, anyone can do anything, but would it be her nature; from what I have seen, no, I really don’t think she did, she seemed too hurt by everything that has happened, but not in a malicious manner.”

“Well, perhaps tonight will bring more of it to light.” She smiled. *

“Are you alright?” Benedict asked, looking at the paramedic in front of him.

It turned out, Danielle did not know about the article, she always avoided celebrity pages, thinking them to be unbearable at best. When Benedict began to talk to her about the piece, she genuinely had no clue as to what he was referencing, and when he showed her, she shook with horror at what it implied.

“It’s me, they are talking about me, as though I did this. Like I told them.” Tears began to form in her eyes. “I never…I would never…”

“I know.” Benedict gave her a hug. “She told you she would get you, and this is her revenge.”

“If Diana…”

“If Diana believes this then I will eat my Sherlock Holmes hat.” Danielle gave a laugh that was half a sob. “She is trying to get you to be forced away from the family, it is an effective method, I’ll grant her that.”

“I…How can I prove it is not me, Emma is one of my greatest friends and Diana…I cannot lose her, she is the only one I can really talk to since my mum…”

Benedict did not know very much of Danielle’s circumstances, he only recognised her accent as one of the Irish ones he had worked around before, so he established from that she was Irish, that and a few pictures he had seen in her home of Irish landscapes, but the manner which she spoke told him, that at the very least, her mother had passed away. “Diana has always seen through her too, you said that yourself, no one thinking clearly would think it is you, you have to believe that.”

“But even if they do, there will always be a slight niggling feeling in the back of their mind that perhaps I am not as trustworthy as they thought.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Not unless you can prove it was her.”

“I really wish I could.” He smiled sadly; before he furrowed his brow. “Perhaps.”

“What?”

“I have a little idea.”

“There’s nothing you can do about this.”

“Yes, I can.”

“I am really scared about this, what if it backfires on you?”

Benedict gave her warm smile. “I’m a big boy, I can handle myself. Besides, it will be harmless really, nothing that can do any harm. Just get on with your job in stopping us from killing ourselves here and don’t concern yourself about it.”

“Thank you, though I don’t know why you are so concerned with helping me, but I glad you are.”

“I want my good friend to see sense, as do you. I know we are not well acquainted, but our concern for him is enough for this to work.”

“I really hope you are right.”

When Danielle left, Benedict took out his phone and scrolled down, pressing call when he got to Tom’s number. At first, he thought it was going to ring out, but in the end, the other actor answered. “Yes?” it was curt and somewhat angry.

“Are you free on Thursday?” Benedict asked.

“I am in LA on Thursday,” Tom responded bluntly.

“I know, so am I, Sophie and I would love to actually see you face to face for a change, maybe talk?”

“I dunno.”

“Tom, please, there has been so much going on recently, I would actually like to see my friend, my real friend, Tom, remember that guy, smart, well educated, funny.”

“You forgot dashing.” There was a light playfulness to Tom’s tone Benedict had not heard in months.

“Yeah, that’s the idiot, how about we grab lunch then, perhaps, if she is around, actually meet Taylor?”

Tom remained quiet for a moment. “You want to meet her?”

“Yes, I mean, clearly she means a lot to you, so surely, as your friend, it makes sense for us to meet.”

“What about your defending Danielle?”

“Look, I am not going to go too much into that right now.”

“What does that mean?”

“Well, I sort of got talking to her, and now I am worried…”

“That she will sell something on you? Fuck, you too? Was it anything serious?”

“No, just random stuff, but you know me, I don’t like certain parts of my personal life public.”

“Yes, I know. It’s nothing to do with the small guy, is it?”

“No, thankfully.”

“Was she alone with him for even a minute? You and Sophie have worked really hard to keep the camera off him.”

Benedict was forced to bite his lip from retorting in reference to Tom allowing a camera be shoved in his niece’s face as he accused his hardworking, good neighbour of photographing Christopher to sell his pictures. “No, well for a moment to go to the bathroom.”

“Shit. We will meet Thursday so, we can discuss it then.”

“And Taylor?”

“She is more famous than we are, she knows what it is like, she has her own things to be thinking about, she won’t say anything.”

“Perfect.” Benedict prayed his conniving smile would not alter his tone over the phone and rise Tom’s suspicions. “Until then man, usual spot?”

“See you then.” Tom’s tone was upbeat. “And Ben, great to actually be talking to you again.”

As Benedict hung up the phone, he looked at it, praying that Tom would not hate him for what he was about to do to save his friend from the worst mistake of his life.

[mentalisttraceur]

What an incredible hypocrite you are! Glad you could kill yourself if you wanted, but some of us can't masterfully stab ourselves. We are denied the means to die and denied the ability to talk about it without getting locked up. And yet you think this is good? It's only bad when it personally inconveniences you? Typical.

[Context]

It really sucks that you are hurting and feel trapped between wanting to die and not being able to either do it or talk about it.

I can infer now that your use of the word "sadly" was more about the predicament being relatable to you personally.

That was not clear to me from the initial message.

So it also really sucks that I hurt you with my reply. Maybe my initial post spoke to you and you were just reaching out thinking that maybe I understood, and you got back something that felt invalidating and dismissive instead.

That's a shitty experience, and I am already doing work to tune how I interpret, process, and respond to messages like this in the future.

Now having said that, I have some critique for you, and that... *gestures above* shit you just pulled.

Look, here's a tip: if you want people to respond in sympathetic ways in situations like this, reduce ambiguity, and make your needs and pains more explicit up-front. Ask yourself "what do I want to get out of this interaction?", and then just say it.

For example, in this case, you could have said "sadly, because most suicide attempts fail, even with a knife, if I tried people would find out anyway".

You're in a text-only medium, an anonymous one which gives me literally no other clues about who you are or what you're going through (if you were off anon I could actually skim your blog and get a better sense of where you are coming from and calibrate my reply to that).

You tell me "sadly, most suicides fail", with minimal other context, in a way that I can only respond to publicly. (If you were off anon I could respond privately, without having to worry about or mitigate how it might effect others).

See, you put me in a position where I had to consider all the people who might come across my reply. People who might be feeling suicidal or insecure or worthless. People who may have already tried to commit suicide in the past. People who might read "sadly most suicides fail" and think "even this Anon thinks I should die, so much so that they'd consider my survival sad".

Now you probably didn't mean that, but your words were ambiguous, so a person in a bad enough mental state could have read that into it.

So I had to make sure I included something in my reply to disclaim that. Something to let those people know that their lives are worth something. That if they failed to kill themselves they should absolutely not go to "it's worse for others that I lived" or "wow I couldn't even do suicide right, how pathetic".

And I have a limited amount of time, and other priorities. I've got like twenty other people waiting for replies stretching back months if not a year or more, and frankly given how you responded, I would've been happier picking literally any one of them to reply to instead. Only through luck and the power of deep insecurities did I happen to have both the time and drive to respond to your initial ask as soon as I got it.

And yeah, I gambled that you would actually consider and understand the above, or that you at least wouldn't perform a reading comprehension fail as severe as what you somehow achieved.

I mean literally, in my post, the only part where I mention a knife is when talking about a hypothetical action by me. The only place where I say "hear about it" is about me being suicidal.

So I interpreted your statement as being directly about me trying to commit suicide, and about people hearing about my suicide attempt. That's literally the most correct interpretation of your words as written, not some fucking deep sign of self-centered thinking.

So when I respond accordingly, about myself, because you made a remark that objectively has all sorts of cues which suggest a continuation of the hypothetical about me, the correct interpretation is "oh, he probably thought I was talking about him, and is just responding within that scope".

And when I include a brief "surviving suicide isn't sad" statement, the correct interpretation, per the above about suicide-risk people reading it self-harmfully, is "oh, he probably wanted to offset the risk of a possible misinterpretation".

Not whatever the fuck narrative you indicate you have already been creatively building up in your head about me for some time prior about me being self-centered and willing to ignore the suffering of others.

Now go back up to that example sentence I gave you and notice how those small changes in wording would have avoided literally all of these problems.

Maybe I'm being too harsh here - see, you remind me of someone, anon, someone particularly guilty of bad-faith interpretations of me, of a weirdly solipsistic failure to notice how things could be interpreted by or effect minds other than minds like them in their current state and a one-sided expectation of empathy to match...

So if you are not that person, and if you are not sufficiently similar to them, then maybe some of this is disproportionate because of my past history, and maybe one day I will feel apologetic for some aspects of this response. Maybe my response is a little biased, a little emotionally tainted, by my reaction to the resemblance.

But either way, you cost me a lot of my spoons, and more of my time and mental effort than I expect you will ever repay, and certainly clearly way more consideration than you gave me.

I really, really wanted to close on a hostile note here, really tear into you as a person and mind. Because really, if you're going to have the gall to judge people like this, you have to actually earn it by putting in the work into making sure you can judge people as correctly and reliably as possible. And I don't see any evidence of that.

But maybe I'm really wrong and your actions are justified from an angle that I just don't see yet. Which I genuinely leave open as a possibility, which again is more consideration and good faith than I think you've given me, but I'm going to just end it here.

Despite the initial flare-up of hostility and resentment that you invoked in me, I wish you the best, and I'm sorry - not as in wrongdoing, but as commiseration - for the hurt I caused you.

All communication is a series of gambles, where the odds get better the more we know about each other. We do our best with the balance of all the resources and priorities we have to work with, to account for all possible minds, and all possible consequences, and sometimes things hurt anyway.

So I'm sorry I hurt you, but I'm not sorry that I made the choices that I made given the situation exactly as it was presented to me. I will maybe make different choices in similar situations in the future, once I finish processing how this played out and adjusting my cognition accordingly.

[carmenlire]

Higher than the Big Trees Ch. 30

read chapter one

read on ao3

Alexander, what do you say to meeting on campus and I can whisk you away for our date from there?

The text comes through as Alec finishes his morning run and he can’t help the immediate grin that overtakes his face. It’s early and Alec has to admit that he loves starting his day talking to Magnus.

Sounds great! Just send me the address. I assume we’re meeting at your office?

I can’t wait for this mysterious date tonight :)

“What-- or who-- has Alec Lightwood smiling down at his phone?”

Alec looks up, that smile turning into an instant scowl at the intrepid reporter. He distantly hears the rapid shutter of a camera a few yards away and sighs internally. Damn.

“I was reading tweets from a few fans,” Alec says, the lie falling from his mouth smoothly.

Close to his apartment, Alec starts walking down the block. He sees the doorman and they share a subtly annoyed look. They’re old hat at intrusive press and it’s nice to have someone to commiserate with, however quietly.

The pap tries to engage him in conversation but Alec’s just not in the mood. Not when he has Magnus in his head. It’s less than a minute until Charles is holding the door open for him and Alec ducks into his building with a cheery wave at the pap.

He strides over to the elevator and once he hits the penthouse button and slides his key in, Alec leans against the wall, taking out his phone to see a new message from Magnus with the address.

Just like that, Alec’s back to grinning wide enough to hurt. He can’t help but feel like this is a step-- seeing where Magnus works, being invited into another sphere of his life.

Distantly, Alec thinks about what it would be like to show Magnus around a studio. It’s ridiculous, but he wonders what Magnus would think of his tour bus. Would he hate being on the road or get a kick at the adventure wrapped mundanity?

Alec goes through the rest of his morning routine thinking about Magnus and how it seems like their lives are meshing effortlessly. Alec likes Magnus’s friends and Magnus hadn’t ran away from Simon yesterday.

It bodes well for the future. Their potential future.

Alec scoffs to himself. Forget that he shouldn’t even be thinking about their future. They’ve only been on one official date and he’s already thinking about what it would be like to bring Magnus out on the road with him for a week-- or longer.

He’s just biting into a banana when he freezes at the sudden realization that he hasn’t even thought about another man since he met Magnus. He hazily remembers an old hookup of convenience texting him last month and he had summarily shut him down.

Huh.

As Alec thinks back over the summer, he can’t remember being genuinely interested in another guy since his first night back in town, before he ran into Magnus that first time. He knows that it’s too soon to be having those thoughts but now that he’s realized it, Alec knows that he’s content.

He doesn’t have the urge to go out for a one night stand. Just the thought leaves him hollow. It’d be hilarious if it wasn’t so ground shaking.

Alec Lightwood, king of staying unattached, loves being off the market. It’s only been a week but there’s comfort in it, a security that he had never considered.

Continuing to eat his breakfast, Alec decides to leave it at that for now. It’s too soon for anything else, anything more. For now, it’s enough that Alec doesn’t feel stifled in this new relationship.

He really likes Magnus and that’s all that matters.

Alec goes through the morning playing back the demos, making notes at his piano for any mistakes or ideas for alteration. It’s a quiet morning, Jace and Izzy both out of the apartment, and he’s glad to have the place to himself.

He’s also happy that he doesn’t have anything heavier on his slate today, not when the thought of seeing Magnus this afternoon is all he can think about.

They’ve been texting all morning and Alec pauses where he’s in the middle of practicing the piano for Angel-- he thinks the song could really pop as a stripped version on tour-- when he sees a reply from Magnus. Talking about favorite foods, and Alec decides to cut to the chase.

Care to give me a hint about what we’ll be doing tonight? I need to plan accordingly.

Magnus responds less than a minute later with an infuriatingly blase answer.

No, I don’t think so. It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you as soon as you asked, now would it, darling?

Alec groans, though his mouth tilts up at the brusque reply.

For the millionth time in as many minutes, Alec rolls his eyes at his own behaviour. Christ, but he’s already whipped and he just hopes that no one else picks up on it because he’d never hear the end of it from Jace or Simon.

He’s set to meet Magnus at four and once it’s time, Alec heads to his bedroom where he spends twenty minutes trying to pick an outfit. Magnus still hasn’t given him an answer and Alec has no idea what to wear-- formal or comfortable, outdoor or indoor.

He takes a picture of his closet-- roughly the size of some New York apartments-- with a frowny face and How am I supposed to decide what to wear when I don’t know where you’re taking me?

Alec shoves the phone back in his sweats and mulls over two outfits. He’s torn between slacks and a button down with an open throat or chinos with one of his Tombolo shirts.

He’s weighing the pros and cons of letting Magnus see one of his favorite shirts-- covered with flamingos and other exotic birds-- when his phone buzzes. Alec hurriedly takes it out of his pocket, and scowls.

All I’ll say is we’ll be outside for the majority of the evening :)

Okay, he can admit that he’s intrigued. Most of Alec’s dates are dinner and a party afterward. No thrills and definitely not exposing the two of them to the elements.

At least that gives him something to go on, though. Alec nixes the idea of formal wear. It’s late July and New York is downright miserable in the summer. Wearing a button down would make him melt.

Decision made, he quickly changes into the pants, rolling them to expose his ankles and throws on his flamingo shirt. He slides his feet into plain Nikes-- they could be walking for miles, who knows-- and snags his sunglasses.

With one last cursory look in the mirror, Ale shrugs. This is as good as it’s gonna get and he gets a little laugh at his shirt. He loves the punch of character and hopes that Magnus can appreciate it, too.

Campus isn’t terribly far, so Alec sets out to walk, pausing at the doors to his apartment to slide his sunglasses on.

It’s a beautiful day, sunny with giant puffy clouds overhead and overall not a bad day for an outdoor date. Alec takes his time and relishes the fact that no one stops him or stares at him a touch too long. He’ll never understand it but some days Alec can’t go anywhere without a mob collecting behind him but other times, it’s like he’s well and truly anonymous.

Once he reaches the edges of campus, Alec takes out his phone and enters the building information into Google Maps. It looks like Bowman Hall-- where the history department is located-- is almost all the way across campus, because of course it is.

Alec’s thankful that it’s a Tuesday during the summer because if it was during the regular school year, then there would be no way that he would be able to walk without interruption. As it is, Alec catches one or two heads snap up to him, incredulous.

He doesn’t stay in one place long enough for anyone to say anything and makes a concerted effort to stare straight ahead or down at his phone. He reaches Bowman Hall, a several story building made of stone with floor to ceiling windows along one section, and reaches for the door handle as a trio is walking out.

Holding the door open for them curiously, he throws them a smile. They ignore him and it sounds like they’re arguing passionately about robotics of all things so Alec waits until they’ve all passed before swinging around and entering the building.

It takes him a few minutes to find the third floor-- there are a billion staircases that only go up one floor at a time-- but he finds the history department offices with five minutes to spare.

Shoving his phone into his pocket, he walks into the main area and sees a letter board that lists the faculty and their office numbers. His eyes scan down the names until he sees Dr. Bane and he doesn’t try to repress the shiver that travels up his spine.

His boyfriend is smart as fuck Alec thinks proudly.

He goes down one of two corridors and slowly passes each door. As he rounds the corner, he passes a man and they share perfunctory nods without speaking.

Magnus’s office is the furthest from the main area, and as Alec walks up to the open door, he smiles at the sight. He leans against the door jamb for a minute, just watching Magnus in his natural habitat.

To his delight, Magnus is wearing a pair of black framed glasses that are slipping down his knows as he reads over something. He’s holding a red pen and spins it around his fingers before bringing it to his mouth to chew on absently. A second later, Magnus is writing something on the page he’s reading, eyes narrowed.

Alec’s mouth goes dry at the sight and he clears his throat, shifting.

Who knew that professors really did it for him, apparently.

Magnus looks up from his desk at the noise, expression immediately easing. “Alexander,” he greets warmly.

Taking a step into the surprisingly small office, Alec smiles. “Hey there. Did I catch you at a bad time?”

Magnus waves that away as he stands and motions Alec closer. “Of course not, we agreed to meet at four and I do love punctuality in a partner. Did you find the building okay?”

“It was a breeze finding Bowman but it took me longer than it should have to find your actual office.”

Laughing, Magnus winces. “I should have given you directions once you got here. This building was built in the 1890s and they just kept adding to it as they needed more space. It’s a mash of eight buildings rolled into one. There are some seniors that don’t know their way around this place.”

Alec steps closer until he’s behind Magnus’s desk. He leans against it, one foot still on the floor, and pulls Magnus in between his splayed thighs. Magnus goes willingly, wrapping his arms around Alec’s shoulders and ducking in for a quick kiss.

“I’ll always find you,” Alec murmurs, gaze fixed on Magnus’s mouth.

Magnus grins as he leans forward, kissing along Alec’s jaw. “My knight in shining armor,” he replies before Alec brings him back up, pulling him in for a scorching kiss.

This isn’t the first time they’ve done this but it just keeps getting better. That’s never been the case for Alec before and he wants to sink into the feeling. Usually after the first time-- the first kiss, the first fuck-- Alec’s over it. No one’s been interesting enough to return to for seconds unless it was sheer convenience and boredom.

With Magnus though, Alec just wants to dive deeper. Kissing Magnus makes heat sear through him while there’s an undertone of comfort and increasing familiarity. He can’t explain it and as Magnus slips his tongue in his mouth, Alec decides handily to stop thinking all together.

Alec’s hands fall to Magnus’s hips and he urges Magnus even closer, both of them gasping as they find a fit together that makes heat build. Alec loses himself in a kissing jag while desire taps insistently at his spine.

One of Magnus’s hands shift to Alec’s neck, thumb pressing down, and Alec’s helpless to contain the low moan that escapes him. Magnus presses down just a touch harder at the noise, tilting Alec’s head to deepen the kiss and Alec gasps even as his hips buck, pressing him more firmly against Magnus.

Magnus doesn’t seem to have an issue with that as he groans against Alec’s mouth, hand sliding from his shoulders down to his thigh, stroking roughly before lifting it so that Alec gets the hint, hitching it around Magnus’s hip.

From there, it devolves quickly into lazy grinding as Alec settles against the desk, Magnus surrounding him. It’s been days since he first tasted Magnus and already Alec knows that he won’t ever get enough.

Minutes pass in the quiet of Magnus’s office. Alec never thought that he’d find himself making out on top of a professor’s desk but here he is and he has the definite thought that he didn’t know what he was missing.

It’s hot and intense and as Alec tastes the lingering hints of tea on Magnus’s tongue-- something dark with a hint of spice-- he feels almost drunk on it.

He doesn’t hear the footsteps coming closer. They’d neglected to close Magnus’s door and anyone walking past would get quite an eyeful.

Alec’s just started distractedly pulling Magnus’s shirt out from where it’s tucked into his dress pants-- Magnus’s hands buried in his hair-- when they break apart for breath, breathing harshly.

Alec’s gaze immediately drops to Magnus’s mouth, delightfully red and swollen, when he feels Magnus’s focus shift.

“Professor Bane?”

It takes a heartbeat for Alec to register the new voice and what it must mean. He turns around to face the door and sees a student hovering at the doorway, looking uncertain. Magnus shakes his head a little as though to clear it before hastily stepping away from Alec. Alec, for his part, slides off the desk and moves to stand near the window, out of the way.

“Julia? What brings you to my office on a Tuesday?”

Shifting, Julia resettles her bag over her shoulder before saying, “I missed class this morning and just wanted to get a copy of the notes.” She looks between Magnus and him, biting her lip. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Magnus waves that away as he looks down at his desk. His hands hover in the air, moving over the desk as if he’s looking for something and Alec has a feeling that Magnus is more affected by their kiss than he’s trying to let on. It takes him another moment to find the folder he needs and he opens it quickly, taking out a few paper clipped pages and handing them to Julia.

“Here you go, dear. This morning’s notes along with the assignment due Friday.”

Julia takes the packet, scanning over the pages before looking up questioningly. “Do I need to bring this back to you or is it a copy?”

“I have a file kept on my computer so don’t worry about returning it to me. Is there anything else you needed?”

“No, this is it,” Julia says as she waves the notes. “Thanks Dr. Bane. I’ll see you Friday.”

“Goodbye Julia. Make sure to make note of any questions you have for our tutoring session in the afternoon.”

Julia salutes, grinning, as she turns to leave the office, giving Alec one last considering look.

Alec smiles at her even as he grimaces. He knows that look and he just hopes to hell that she didn’t have the time to take a photo-- or god forbid a video-- of what she walked in on.

It’s silent for a minute after the student leaves and Alec waits for Magnus to make the next move. This is his space and Alec doesn’t want to make the wrong move.

After a second, Magnus rolls back his shoulders, clearing his throat as he throws Alec an amused glance. “Well, I certainly wasn’t expecting that.”

“The student? Or the groping?”

Laughing, Magnus takes the few steps over to Alec, wrapping his arms around his waist. “Either,” he says dryly. He smooths down Alec’s shirt, smile growing just a bit wider as he takes in the design. “Cute shirt.”

Alec smiles, pleased. “It’s one of my favorites.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Alec confirms. He looks down at the muted but whimsical pattern. “I just think it’s fun.”

“Well,” Magnus says, letting his hands wander over Alec’s chest, “I think it suits you. And it’s altogether too perfect for what I had planned.”

“Oh? Do I finally get to know where you’re taking me,” Alec asks.

Releasing a long suffering sigh, Magnus says, “We, dear Alexander, are going to the zoo.”

“The zoo,” Alec repeats, delighted.

“That’s right. We’re going to the zoo where we’ll spend a few hours walking around with families and senior citizens and more kids than we can count while looking at exotic animals. There might even be plans for ice cream after.”

“I love ice cream,” Alec cries, grinning down at Magnus.

“I thought it would be a good ending to the date. And then--”

“And then?”

“Well,” Magnus says slowly. “At first I was going to invite you back to my place to finish Twilight.” Magnus looks at Alec from under his lashes as he smiles faintly. “However, after what just happened, I think I’ll invite you back to my place and we can just see what happens.”

Alec’s breath catches at the invitation and he leans forward, nosing along Magnus’s cheek. “You don’t think you’ll be too tired after a day at the zoo to-- to watch Twilight,” he murmurs, ducking down to kiss the side of Magnus’s neck.

Alec feels Magnus laugh, hears it change to a low groan as he leaves an open-mouthed kiss over his pulse point, laving at the steady beat before biting down just enough to sting before soothing it with his tongue. He repeats the process a few times before moving back to admire his handiwork.

Magnus’s pupils are blown wide and his bottom lip is red from where he’d been worrying it with his teeth. The look he sends Alec makes him wish they weren’t still in Magnus’s office but with a sigh, Alec steps back, grinning at the look of betrayal that flashes over his boyfriend’s face.

“Ready for our date?”

Magnus glares at him for a long beat before he groans loudly, letting his head fall back so that he can stare at the ceiling. After a beat Magnus straightens, smoothing his shirt down and tucking it back in from where Alec had pulled it.

He sends Alec a dry look. “You’re a menace.”

Unrepentant, Alec shrugs, running his hands through his hair to give it at least a semblance of order. “It’s not my fault you’re so damn irresistible.”

Magnus shakes his head before reaching over the desk and opening the top drawer, snagging his keys and phone. “Ready,” he asks, turning to the door.

“After you.”

It’s appallingly obvious what they’ve been doing. Hurriedly setting their clothes to rights couldn’t mask the redness of Magnus’s lips or the way his eyes were just a hint brighter than usually. Alec was sure that he looked just as debauched if not worse.

He doesn’t really give a damn.

It’s a beautiful sunny day and his boyfriend is taking him on a date. There are worse things than looking like they were just caught in flagrante delicto.

Which, Alec thinks wryly, isn’t far from the truth.

“How were classes,” he asks as Magnus guides him down a flight of stairs.

“They were fine,” Magnus answers. They take the steps together, walking side by side. “I’m almost certain that a student showed up to class with vodka in their water bottle but I was too far away to tell and they didn’t cause a scene, so,” he shrugs.

Alec turns to look at him as they start on the next flight down. “A student was just drinking liquor?”

Magnus’s lips quirk as he sends Alec a pitying glance. “Oh, darling, no need to act so scandalized. That’s downright tame compared to some of the things I’ve seen. At least they had the common sense to put it in a colorful reusable water bottle and not the paper bag it comes in.”

“People are really that stupid,” Alec asks, incredulous.

“Alec, these are college kids and they think of me as their woefully out of touch professor who couldn’t find his ass from a hole in the ground. I may be more well-liked and respected than other professors on campus but I’m very much the them to their us. I’ve had students try-- and dare I say, sometimes succeed-- at much worse. Hell knows the antics I got up to in college,” Magnus adds thoughtfully, wry quirk to his mouth.

Alec laughs as they hit the front doors to the building. “Which zoo are we going to?”

They walk down a winding path that trails between buildings. They don’t hold hands or touch in anyway but Alec’s hyper aware of Magnus’s presence next to him. Alec shoves his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching out and when Magnus’s shoulder bumps into his for a brief second, he ducks his head, smiling at Magnus who returns it with an innocent look.

“There’s a zoo that’s within walking distance. That’s why I asked you to meet me. I thought I could show you around campus and it would save some time if I left straight from work.”

“Eager to see me,” Alec teases, nudging his shoulder to Magnus’s.

One of Magnus’s hands reaches up as he fiddles with his ear cuff. “It’s not my fault that you’re so damn irresistible,” he says, repeating Alec’s words from earlier.

Alec laughs and as they walk across campus, he listens attentively as Magnus describes the buildings and special places they pass. Magnus falls naturally into a bit of a lecture tone and Alec can’t help but think that he’d be a model student if he had Magnus as his professor.

They reach the gates of the zoo after a little walk and before Alec can reach for his wallet, Magnus is already handing the cashier his card. He send Alec a droll, satisfied smirk. “It’s my turn to treat you darling, put that thing away.”

Rolling his eyes, Alec acquiesces and Magnus grabs two maps, holding one out for him to take.

They start at the beginning with the elephants and quickly lose themselves in the meandering afternoon. There are tigers and monkeys and an arctic exhibit and when they get to the giraffes, Alec about dies of excitement.

Magnus watches fondly as he goes right up the the barrier, hastily taking out his phone to capture a picture-- or twelve.

“I didn’t know that you were so into giraffes, Alexander.”

“They’re my favorite animal,” Alec responds distractedly, watching as the giraffe reaches up the tree to tear some leaves from it.

He almost doesn’t notice as Magnus comes closer, leaning against his side companionably. Alec relaxes into the touch, turning his head to see Magnus staring resolutely in front of him at the exhibit with a faint smile on his face.

“What is your favorite animal,” Alec asks, curious.

Humming as he thinks about it, Magnus takes his phone out, unlocking the camera. “Probably snow leopards, though I do have a weakness for penguins,” he admits.

He sends Alec a look. “What do you say to a pic? A photo to commemorate the occasion?”

Grinning, Alec replies, “My boyfriend taking me to the zoo? Bet your ass we’re getting a picture.”

Magnus laughs, head falling back and Alec loses his breath for just a millisecond. He’s just so beautiful, Alec thinks, and it feels like something shifts.

“Alright, let’s do this then.”

They turn so that the giraffe is at their back and Magnus raises his arm, playing with the angles to get the photo just right. They take a few and luckily the giraffe perfectly framed in the background.

“Send those to me,” Alec says as Magnus pockets his phone once again.

Agreeing, they move on to the next exhibit. They spend a couple of hours at the zoo until their feet start hurting and it’s closing time, the sun low in the sky.

Exiting the gates, Alec ruminates that this is one of the best dates that he’s ever had. Wryly, he acknowledges that any date with Magnus is his favorite.

He’s just set to ask where the ice cream is at, when Magnus grabs his hand and pulls him in one direction, looking back with laughter in his eyes. “Ready for dessert,” he asks and Alec grins as he interlaces their fingers.

“Lead the way.”

It’s just a few minutes away and they’re stopping at the corner of an intersection where there’s a hot dog stand and a food truck that seems to specialize in sweets. Slowing to a stop, Magnus gives Alec time to look at the menu before saying, “They have anything you could want but I think their twist cone is the best I’ve ever had.”

“Then that’s what I’ll get,” Alec says easily. He lets Magnus order as he looks around. The after-work crowd is just starting to thin and it’s more couples out, heading to dinner now. In his periphery he sees the someone hastily lower their phone and sighs. Damn.

Magnus moves back until he’s standing next to Alec and Alec leans close to whisper in his ear, “I think someone just took our picture. Are you okay with that?”

Magnus is still for a moment, obviously thinking, before he relaxes against Alec’s side. He tilts his face up to meet his eyes and Alec internally releases a sigh of relief at the good humor in Magnus’s gaze.

“I think that we’ve been a little too blatant not to expect someone to see something. I’m okay with it,” he says firmly. “You?”

Shrugging, Alec replies, “Cameras don’t really phase me anymore unless I’m with someone who doesn’t like the public eye. I’m used to it. I just want to make sure you’re fine.”

“I’m more than fine,” Magnus says and his fingers brush Alec’s as the food truck employee calls out their order.

They both step forward and grab their cones, piled high with vanilla and chocolate soft serve. The first lick is the best and Alec gives Magnus an impressed look. It’s a classic, simple dessert but there’s just something really good about it. It’s creamy and sweet and Alec has to admit that Magnus knows his ice cream.

“Yum,” he says as he takes another lick, trying to keep the ice cream from dripping over his hand.

They start walking, enjoying their ice cream and it takes a while for Alec to realize that he recognizes their surroundings.

“You live close,” he asks, taking the first bite of his cone.

Magnus takes another swipe of his dessert before replying. “I’m just around the corner,” he confirms. He looks over at Alec with a hint of a smirk gracing his features. “Want to come up for some coffee?”

“I love coffee,” Alec says seriously and they both laugh as the turn the corner and Magnus takes his keys out.

Opening the door for him, Magnus follows Alec through the lobby toward the elevator where they don’t have to wait for entering.

In the suddenly small space, Alec is even more aware of Magnus than he’d been earlier this evening. He looks over and sees smudged eyeliner and hair a little messier than usual. There’s a smudge of ice cream along his low lip and Alec reaches out, swiping it up before making eye contact with Magnus and popping his thumb into his mouth, sucking the minuscule bit of chocolate away.

“Thank you,” Magnus murmurs, eyes glued to Alec’s mouth.

“Thank you for a really nice date. I had a great time,” Alec whispers into the air between them.

“I’m glad,” Magnus says softly. “I thought you might like an informal night out and I know that I prefer low maintenance evenings after a long work day.”

The two of them move closer together until there’s barely an inch of space between them. “I really like being with you,” Alec admits.

Magnus’s lips tilt at the corners as he says, “I really like being with you too, Alexander.”

He’s just set to close that last bit of distance when the elevator dings and the doors open. There’s a moment of breathless stillness in the elevator before they both break into laughter, shaking their heads at their behavior.

“We really need to settle down,” Alec says.

Looking over his shoulder as he inserts the key into the lock, Magnus grins. “Now what’s the fun in that?”

“I’ll show you fun,” Alec murmurs and Magnus turns as Alec moves forward, leaning against his front door as Alec comes to stand in front of him. There’s a beat, an electric pause before Alec leans down even as Magnus rushes up, mouths meeting in a searing kiss that’s hot as soon as it starts.

Magnus’s back hits the door with a thud as he pulls Alec closer, widening his stance so that Alec can settle more firmly against him.

Alec breaks away from Magnus’s mouth with a muttered curse as he starts mouthing along his neck instead. He licks over the place he’d left an almost imperceptible hickey earlier and he’s rewarded as Magnus releases a moan right into his ear, tugging on the short hair along his nape.

“Please, Alexander,” Magnus breathes and Alec pulls back to see that Magnus’s cheeks are already flushed, color riding high.

“Maybe we should move this inside,” Alec says, raising a brow. The last thing they need is one of Magnus’s neighbors seeing them like this.

Nodding, Magnus fumbles with the door knob, cursing under his breath before it opens and they all but fall into the loft.

Alec immediately resumes kisses Magnus, kicking the door closed haphazardly behind him. Magnus buries a hand in Alec’s hair while the other starts unbuttoning Alec’s shirt, messily slipping a button at a time until it’s hanging open. Magnus pulls back, letting his gaze fall to Alec’s chest with hungry eyes.

He lays a hand over Alec’s heart, dragging it down slowly down until Alec’s stomach tightens at the touch. “Christ,” he says dazedly.

Eager to return the favor, Alec shrugs out of his shirt before getting to work on Magnus’s, unbuttoning the row easily if not quite fast enough to suit him.

He wishes distantly that he had magic so that they could just instantly lose their clothes, though he can’t deny the anticipation that’s thrumming through him at every inch of newly exposed skin. He pushes Magnus’s shirt off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor and he takes in Magnus, losing his goddamn breath at the set of abs that he’s mild jealous of.

“Nice,” is all he says and Magnus barks out a laugh before Alec’s back to kissing him. It’s just as intense even if the pace has slowed down a little. The frenzy has, at least temporarily, left them and Alec indulges in slow, deep kisses as he follows wherever Magnus is leading him. They kick off their shoes somewhere along the hallway, and Alec laughs a little as they trip over one of Magnus’s shoes.

He has enough wherewithal to know that they’ve just passed a doorway but then Magnus rests his hand against the placket of his jeans and Alec gasps, bucking into the hold. They break for much needed air as Magnus runs a thumb over his length and Alec bites his lip to keep some embarrassing sound down.

“Oh no,” Magnus says, turning so that he’s pushing Alec further into the room. “I want to hear you, darling.”

The back of Alec’s knees hit Magnus’s bed and he tumbles back, Magnus following him much more gracefully until he’s leaning over Alec, looking like a tiger about to pounce.

“This okay,” he asks, fingers trailing over Alec, playing along his waistband. The light touch makes him dizzy and he just wants more.

“Definitely,” Alec says, and tries to ignore just how breathless he is already. Magnus has barely even touched him and he already feels like a teenager, too close to coming at the mere thought of Magnus on him.

Magnus takes his time, leaning down to kiss along Alec’s neck, biting before soothing, moving further down to nibble along his collarbones.

Alec’s tense in anticipation and when he feels Magnus unbuttoning his jeans-- and taking his damn time doing so-- he reaches for him, pulling Magnus back until their lips can reconnect. The kissing now is slower and Alec hums as he feels Magnus’s tongue along the seam of his lips, opening without thought.

It’s a lot. Alec can’t quite remember the last time he felt so immersed in pleasure. His hookups were always more perfunctory than feeling-- in the back of his head he was always thinking about how quickly he could make his escape after things concluded-- but as he lets his legs fall open so that Magnus can have easier access, he feels like he’s totally at Magnus’s mercy and he loves it.

Magnus keeps kissing him as he finally undoes the final button and Alec hopes are desperately dashed as Magnus doesn’t immediately wrap a hand around him. Instead, he pulls back, urging Alec to shove his jeans down, out of the way.

Which he does with alacrity.

Once he’s just in his plain black pair of boxer-briefs, he pulls his knees up, giving Magnus more room to work with.

Magnus doesn’t do anything at first, just stares his fill and Alec knows what he must be seeing. He feels a little fucked out already, heat pooling in his cheeks, that flush sweeping down to his chest. His hair must be a bird’s nest from the way Magnus was handling him earlier and his cock is an obscene length tenting the front of his underwear.

Magnus finally moves but it isn’t where Alec wants him most. No, instead he trails a hand along Alec’s thigh, over his chest, nails scratching softly at his stomach.

“Aren’t you a vision,” he murmurs and Alec feels coveted.

He lets himself drift as Magnus touches his fill, those lingering sensations enough to ground him while still sweeping him higher, closer.

When those touches stop, Alec opens his eyes, frustrated, and glowing with hunger. Magnus hushes him as he leans over him, reaching for the nightstand.

When he takes out the small bottle of lube, Alec can feel himself relax against the golden sheets. Finally.

Magnus must read his expression easily, for he laughs as he clicks the bottle open, pouring a generous amount into his hand. “I need you naked, darling. We’ll talk about your tragic lack of patience later.”

Alec huffs out a laugh as he discards his underwear. He reaches a hand down but Magnus intercepts him, chiding. “I’ll be taking care of that, thank you very much.”

Alec’s retort disappears as Magnus wraps a hand around him, firm and warm and altogether too goddamn good.

His hips buck up, already begging for more, and Magnus gives it to him in slow, sure strokes that make Alec feel the fire licking up his spine. Magnus takes a few minutes, leisurely getting him off and watching the show before he leans over Alec, kissing him as he continues.

Alec moans into his mouth as Magnus rotates his wrist, squeezing more firmly for a beat or two before returning to his regular rhythm. Alec feels completely surrounded by Magnus and as he feels his orgasm growing steadily closer, he’s helpless to keep the small noises from escaping. Magnus’s hand moves to the head of his cock, paying it special attention and Alec swears as he thrusts into Magnus’s hand, seeking that heat.

“Tell me what you like, Alexander.”

Magnus whispers into Alec’s ear and he almost comes from the combination of Magnus’s voice so close and the hand wrapped around his cock.

“Slow,” Alec gasps. “Harder.”

Magnus heeds his direction and as Alec grinds into Magnus’s hand, relishing the warmth, the friction, Alec groans, long and low.

He’s still missing something, though, but goddamn if he knows what. He reaches a hand up tugging at his own hair and pulls Magnus to him for a messy kiss that’s more tongue than anything else.

It isn’t until Magnus carefully, lightly scratches a nail down the vein running along the underside of his sock that Alec sees fucking stars, coming with a hoarse cry. Magnus rides him out until he’s too sensitive and shies away.

Still breathing harshly, Alec briefly contemplates never moving again before he opens his eyes and sees Magnus watching him, pupils blown and lips bitten red.

“C’mere,” he murmurs and Magnus moves until he’s straddling Alec as Alec reaches for his pants, unbuttoning them expertly with one hand while reaching for the lube in the other. Magnus shoves his pants down until his cock is freed, hard and leaking at just getting Alec off.

He doesn’t waste a moment before reaching for Magnus, wrapping a hand around him and he shivers as he feels the hot length, as Magnus shudders and buries his head into Alec’s neck.

He varies his tempo until he reaches a rhythm that elicits these deliciously choked off groans and whimpers from Magnus.

“Yes, fuck, Jesus Christ Alexander,” Magnus mumbles and bites down, hard, on Alec’s neck as he comes, spilling over Alec’s fingers.

It’s a few moments before Magnus raises up to his elbows, gaze roving over Alec’s face with a grin. “Well, that was certainly fun.”

“It was,” Alec agrees and steadies a hand against Magnus’s waist as he straightens up. With his other, come still dripping over knuckles, he brings it up to his mouth and waits until he sees that he has Magnus’s undivided attention before delicately swiping at the mess with his tongue. He’s pretty sure that he can physically pinpoint the second Magnus’s brain goes offline as he licks his hand clean.

“Fuck me,” Magnus says dazedly, eyes scorching hot.

“Not yet,” Alec says easily and laughs as Magnus shoves at his shoulder.

“We should probably clean up,” Magnus says with a sigh and Alec hums in agreement.

Magnus doesn’t climb off of Alec right away, though. Instead, he brings Alec up until he’s sitting, raising his head up for a deep kiss.

It spins out for long moments, the heat banked for now. When Magnus pulls back, they’re both breathless and sporting smiles that light up their faces.

Magnus clamors off Alec and Alec follows, taking in Magnus’s bedroom while his boyfriend heads to his dresser.

The bed is covered in rumpled gold sheets and the room itself is huge with rich brocade and exposed brick. All in all, it looks like how he would imagine Magnus’s bedroom to be and something flutters in his stomach at the thought that he has an idea of what Magnus’s preferences are.

Magnus pushed the drawer closed, turning around with two pairs of clothes in his arms. “I thought you might not want to put your jeans back on so I have an extra pair of sweats. Unless, of course, you weren’t figuring on staying?”

Alec takes in Magnus’s expression as he slowly says, “I didn’t come up here just to get my mind blown, Magnus. I believe I was promised a continuation of the Twilight movies.” He raises a brow. “Unless you’re not a man of your word?”

Magnus laughs, pulling Alec close to place a lingering kiss against his lips. “Of course not, darling. Let’s change and then we can start-- Eclipse was it?”

Alec shrugs-- he honestly has no idea-- and takes the close Magnus gives him, heading to the bathroom where he washes his hands and changes into the surprisingly well-fitting clothes.

They’re on the couch soon enough and Magnus slides the dvd into the player as Alec takes out his phone, scrolling through notifications.

He opens Instagram, choosing a photo that Magnus had taken of him eating his ice cream earlier with the caption The company was sweeter.

He posts it a minute later and as Magnus settles against his side, pulling down the blanket from the back of the couch and throwing it over them, Alec sears this moment into his memory. This is the first time he’s ever lingered after a hookup-- the first time he’s ever wanted too-- and he feels so much that he absently wonders how a body can hold it all.

Magnus takes out his phone and Alec sees that he’s opened Twitter. It’s quiet as the opening credits begin to play before Magnus’s voice breaks through.

“You’re hot news today, darling. And apparently, so am I.”

Alec looks over, raising a brow in question as he sees Magnus holding his phone up so that he can see a picture someone must have taken of them at the zoo. Alec throws a quick glance at Magnus before taking the phone, scrolling through the trending tag and seeing a dozen photos of him walking on Columbia’s campus solo along with pictures of the two of them at the zoo.

He has a brief moment to thank that TMZ hadn’t picked up on yet before he scrolls through the tweets and sees the accompanying hashtag. “Malec,” he asks, looking up to see if Magnus knows what’s going on.

Smiling softly, Magnus moves imperceptibly closer. “I think that’s our ship name. Magnus and Alec-- malec.”

Alec rolls his eyes, though he can’t help but smile at the insinuation. He likes his name linked with Magnus’s.

He sees a few fans speculating and looks up again. “What do you want to do?”

Magnus hums, narrowing his eyes as he thinks before looking at Alec. “I say go for it.”

Grinning, Alec likes a few tweets.

Omg, isn’t that Magnus guy a professor? What if that’s why Alec’s on campus???

They look so cute watching the lions together!!!! It’s what he deserves!! #malec

I bet Alec lost his shit at the giraffes ksdjfgkdfg but look how Alec’s looking at Magnus instead of the exhibits:’) when will your fave ever!

Magnus watches as he likes the tweets before turning to watch the movie. The room is dim as the tv plays and when Magnus softly asks, “Want to spend the night? It’s getting late,” Alec doesn’t even think of refusing.

[originalhybridloverfics]

Good to You CH15

If you like to be tagged just message me the name of the fic to let me know.

Notes:

Okay, so I'm nervous about this chapter. Once you read it, I think you'll know why. If you don't like the direction all I'm going to ask is that you don't be rude about it.

[Fair Warning] If you're a huge Hayley fan or you not a fan of baby plots you probably don't want to read further.

There's a lot of Harvest flashbacks in this chapter. Feel free to skim over it if you don't want to bother reading that. The flashbacks or in italics. I tried to make sure it wasn't that confusing.

I had planned to get this out sooner but I was in a foul mood earlier. I apologize for any mistakes or errors in advance.

Last but not least, Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays everyone!!

Elijah observed Davina calculatingly. He knew Rebekah and Klaus were trying to ensure his freedom but he saw this as an opportunity if he could sway Davina to their side they would gain the upper hand on Klaus and ensure the safety of Klaus’s child. However, if he couldn’t he would have to do whatever he had to to make sure his family came out on top including doing whatever was necessary.

His gray skin from not feeding a stark contrast against the suit he wore.

“You're the one they call honorable,” Davina stated knowingly.

Elijah smiled in response. “Yes, that's what they call me. And yet, I followed my brother here to New Orleans to engage in a war. So, I ask you; does that sound honorable to you?”

“You don't look well,” Davina commented, taking in his gray skin and disheveled appearance.

“Well, only this morning I had a mystical dagger embedded in my chest, so I'd say I'm holding myself together quite well.” He paused momentarily choosing his words carefully. “Davina, I believe that you and I have the power to end a war between witches and vampires before it truly begins. I, by keeping my brother in line; you, by behaving like your true self—not some tool for Marcel or the witches.”

“And why should I trust you?” Davina questioned with narrowed eyes.

“Well, for one thing, in spite of a ravenous hunger, I have not tried to take your blood.”

“Why not? I'm the only one here.” She pointed out.

“Even in my present condition, I would not feed from a child.” Elijah declared.

Davina picked up a hat pin pricking her finger with it. A drop of blood clung to the end of the needle and she walked forward placing the drop on Elijah's lip, testing his control. Testing him.

After a moment, Elijah's skin returned to its normal slightly complexion.

Davina looking pleased that he hadn’t attacked her with the taste of that one single drop of blood.

                                     ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Klaus paced back in forth in the back kitchen of Rousseau's, blood splattered on his neck, dripping down the corner of his mouth and splatters on his hands.

When Sophie came in carrying bags of produce, she dropped everything to the floor at the sight of Klaus covered in blood.

“Oh my God. What did you do?!”

“No, it’s not what I did.” He strode forward, wrapping his hand tightly around her, yanking her forward, glowering down at her. “It’s what didyou do? You and the witches? I warned you if anyone was too threatened Caroline’s life there would be a price to pay in blood.”

Sophie swallowed. “Who did you kill?”

“Two witches from your precious coven. You’ll find the first one's body on your doorstep and the second one on Agnes’s. In pieces, I might add.” He nodded his head at the table and to her horror, there was a set of bloody eyeballs on the table along with a ripped out tongue."

Sophie gagged, bile rising. “Oh, God, I’m gonna be sick.” She said revolted.

“Be quick about it then.” He said before speeding away and she suddenly found herself in front of the Victorian mansion the Mikaelsons were currently occupying. She jerked forward with the change, the bile she felt churning in her stomach coming up as she retched into a rose bush next to the large Mikaelson Mansion.

When she was done, she barely had time to wipe her mouth before Klaus was dragging her inside and pushing her into a chair, pausing as he looked out the window and caught sight of Rebekah and Caroline outside. He shot her a look of warning. “Wait here!” He ordered before disappearing out the door expecting her to obey his command.  

He was gone only two minutes when Hayley came bounding into the room closing the door a look of anger plastered on her face.

“Hayley, what the hell is going on?” Sophie asked her in alarm.

“What is going on is that Agnes set me up to be picked off by a group of witches!”

“What?” Sophie shook her head. “She wouldn’t. That would jeopardize everything.” Everything she and Jane-Anne did, everything they have done would have been for nothing.

“I didn’t sign up for this. You promise to help me with my family, my pack if I helped you and your sister. And I have done everything you asked of me but I did not sign up to be slaughter out in the swamps!” Hayley's voice started to rise due to the anger she felt at almost dying. “I fucking became an incubator for children that aren’t even mine! And for what? Just so I could be killed because suddenly Agnes decides she doesn’t want Klaus’s children being born!”

“Would you lower your voice!” Sophia snapped, looking out the window that overlooked the green field outside and she could see Klaus approaching Rebecca and Caroline who looked like they were in the middle of sparring. “If Klaus hears you I’m dead and you will be too as soon as those babies are born. He can’t ever know the truth. He’s already killed two of the witches of my coven for what happened.”

“I know he can’t ever know the truth. I don’t need to be told that.” Hayley lowered her voice. “If Klaus ever found out that we stole Caroline’s children from her, their children, before either of them ever knew about them death would be the least of our worries.” Hayley was sure of it. She was sure Klaus would make them suffer long before their death ever came.

“And that is why he can never find out,” Sophie stressed, turning away from the window to look back at Hayley. “Everything from the moment we met would have been for nothing. Do you have any idea what I had to do to ensure that those babies came into existence after you told me about Klaus Mikaelson's one weakness.” Sophie shook her head. “I needed more than one bargaining chip, more than one baby vamp. I had to plan and manipulate everything to go exactly accordingly to plan, down to every little detail and it wasn't easy. It was near impossible."

“They're not just bargaining chips.” Hayley found herself saying. “They're more than that. They're innocent.”

A look of surprise and knowing came over Sophie. “You’ve come to care for them like their actually yours, haven’t you?”

Hayley looked away from her not wanting to admit it. Did it matter if she did or not? She was basically a womb snatcher or something.

“It’s okay if you do, Hayley.” Said Sophie in a moment of empathy for the wolf. “It’s natural to feel love for children you're nurturing with your body.”

“But their not mine,” Hayley said, conflicted.

“Not biologically.” Said Sophie. “But you’re the one carrying them, you’ll be the one to give birth to them. In that way, they’ll be yours.”

Hayley looked down her hand instinctively rubbing her stomach. “I can’t imagine giving birth to them and having them being taken from me.”

Sophie placed her hand on Hayley’s shoulder. “If no one finds out the truth they won’t have to be.”

Hayley nodded. She just had to make sure Klaus never found out the truth about the pregnancy and when all was said and done, when Sophie kept her end of the deal she would leave and she would have her own pack and her own family in the children growing inside of her whether they were her’s or not.

                                      ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Klaus stood back watching as Rebekah tried to correct Caroline’s leg stance and her arms.

“Don’t tense up,” Rebekah instructed. “You’re body will react quicker and better if you relax.”

“Kind of hard to relax if you’re being attacked,” Caroline responded, rolling her arms and trying to force her body to relax as Rebekah had instructed.

“Not if you’re confident you’re going to win.” Rebekah retorted.

“That depends on if that is confidence or arrogance?”

Rebekah grinned. “In my case? Confidence.”

“I’m sure.” Caroline found herself returning Rebekah’s grin with one of her own.

“Alright. So there are a few things you want to keep in mind when fighting old vampires. One; whatever you do if their really, really old, I’m talking centuries, do not give them the chance to knock your head clean off your shoulders.”

Caroline’s face scrunched up at the image. “Decapitation? Yeah, definitely wouldn’t want to lose my head.” She mumbled.

Klaus found himself letting out a chuckle at her mumbled words, he tried to cover it up but he had already drawn the attention of Rebekah and Caroline.  

“Nik, been maiming again?” Rebekah asked sarcastically indicating the blood on him. “Or are you just going for a new look?”

“Couldn’t let the witches think they were going to get away with what happened without consequences.” He responded unrepentantly.

Caroline frowned. She couldn’t say she was surprised by this. But still, it didn’t mean she liked it. “Do I even want to know who you killed?”

“Probably not.” He responded easily. “Getting an early start on training I see.”

“Well, we were until you showed up.” Said Rebekah.

“Well, you’re gonna have to postpone it.” He stated. “Sophie’s here and she has some explaining to do. Figured you both would like to hear what she has to say.”

“How considerate of you, Nik.” Retorted Rebekah. “I guess there’s a first time for everything," she walked forward brushing past him.

Klaus looked at Caroline. “Will you be joining us?”

Caroline nodded, walking forward and falling into step beside him. “Do you actually trust anything Sophie says?” She didn’t, maybe that was her being petty about Sophie forcing her into this situation but there was just something desperate in the witches actions. At least they were to Caroline.

“If I don’t trust my own family, I’m definitely not going to trust her.” Klaus held the front door open for her.

Caroline paused in the doorway, searching his eyes. “But you trust me.”  

“Well, you’re you,” Klaus told her with an ease that if she had still been human would have her heart pounding in her chest. As it was, a feeling of warmth filled her chest.

She bit her lip with a faint smile, walking into the house. “So where is Sophie?”

Klaus placed a hand on her lower back as they walked further into the home. “In my study.”

When they arrived at the study she saw only Sophie and Hayley. “Is this something Hayley should be here for?” She wondered. She thought Hayley should still be resting after what she went through in the bayou at least for the sake of the twins well being.  

“No. She should be resting after her ordeal that the witches put her through.” Rebekah stated

Hayley rolled her eyes. "I'm fine."

Sophie shifted around cautiously, her eyes on Klaus. “Look, I had nothing-“

“We had a deal!” Klaus cut her off angrily. “You protect my unborn children, Caroline remains unharmed, I dismantle Marcel's army. And whilst I've been busy fulfilling my part of the bargain, you allowed Hayley to be attacked and almost killed by a gaggle of lunatic witches.” His eyes flashed black and amber momentarily. “If she died my children would have died. Caroline would have died!”

Caroline felt a shiver course through her with the anger in which he spoke of the possibility of her death. Like it was not an option for him.

“I had nothing to do with it, I swear.” She defended herself, feeling a real flash of fear at his hybrids eyes that had shown briefly. “Hayley and I are linked, remember? She dies, I die.”

“Then who were they?” Rebekah questioned, eyes narrowed.

“They are a faction of extremists. Sabine stupidly told them about some vision she had about the twins.”

“What kind of vision?” asked Klaus, stepping back to stand beside Caroline, reaching to the desk and opening the drawl, removing a white cloth, wiping the blood from his hands and mouth that he had gotten on him earlier when he killed and mutilated the two witches.

“She has them all the time,” Sophie informed them. “They are totally open to interpretation. I'm guessing she's wrong on this one.”

“Well, how, may I ask, was this particular vision interpreted?” Klaus insisted on his line of questioning.

“Pretty much that your children would bring death to all witches,” Sophie told him.

“Figures as much that your children would follow in your footsteps.” Caroline cast a look at Klaus, while the words could be interpreted as harsh, it was said without any malice and she even had a small smile.

Klaus returned her smile with a full one.  “Ah, well. I grow fonder of the twins by the second.”

“Sophie, look, I promised Elijah that I would protect the Mikaelson miracle twins whilst he tries to win your witch Davina's loyalty,” Rebekah informed her. “Why don't you tell me just how extreme this faction is?”

“Elijah's talking to Davina?” Sophie asked surprised by this information.

“Yeah. As we speak, I imagine.”

“I'm guessing she'll have plenty to say about that crowd.” Murmured Sophie.

“Do tell.” Said Klaus.

“I… wasn’t always an advocate for the witches,” Sophie admitted.

Klaus moved around the room, grabbing a chair and pulling it forward. “Why don’t you have a seat, Love.” He grasped Caroline's hand pulling her forward.

Caroline looked at him in surprise at the gesture.

“Sounds like we’re in for a story you shouldn’t be spending it standing.” He insisted.

Hayley quirked a brow at them. She was already sitting but she doubted even if she wasn't that Klaus would've shown her the same consideration he showed Caroline.

“Thanks.” Caroline took the seat, appreciating his kind gesture.

“I don’t see you offering me a seat.” Rebekah cut in, sending Klaus a dry look.

“By all means, if you like to sit down take a seat, sister.” He responded, hands on the back of the chair Caroline sat in.

Sophie paused as she watched Klaus with Caroline, how he kept close to her when in the same room, the way his eyes constantly flickered to her, taking everything in about her.

She kept the frown from her face, seeing the way he was with her and his earlier threat she prayed that he never found out the truth about the pregnancy.

                                  ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

8 Months ago

Sophie danced to the music behind the bar of Rousseau’s as the crowd cheered loudly.

“Woo, drink up everybody!” Sophie shouted to the cheering crowd. “This is how they party in Rio!” she poured the liquor down her throat straight from the bottle.

                       ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

“My sister was devoted, like our parents, and our upbringing was very strict, which drove me nuts. The minute I turned 21, I left the Quarter to travel... and play.” Sophie said.

Caroline raised a brow, she would not have taken Sophie for a party girl. Not with what she knew of her so far.

                            ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Sophie poured alcohol into another girl's mouth before kissing her after the girl swallowed the drink down.

                          ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

“But, I wanted to be a chef, so I came back to Rousseau's.” Sophie continued with her story.

                             ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

“Oh, Jane-Anne!” Sophie greeted when her sister walked into Rousseau’s to find her.  

Jane-Anne smiled, hugging her sister. “Welcome home, Soph. Can we go someplace to talk?”

“Just tell me.”

“The elders called a vote. We’re moving forward with the Harvest.” Jane-Anne informed her.

Sophie looked at her sister, stunned. “What?”

                            ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

“What the bloody hell is a Harvest?” Rebekah demanded, having never heard of it before.

“It's a ritual our coven does every three centuries so that the bond to our magic is restored. We appease our ancestors, they keep our ancestral power flowing.” Sophie explained.

“And why haven't I heard of this?” Klaus wondered, it sounded like something he would have heard of before.

“Because a Harvest always seemed like a myth. A story passed on through generations like Noah's ark, or the Buddha walking on water.” Said Sophie. “The kind some people take literally, and some people don't.”

“So was there any truth behind it?” Caroline wondered. “And what exactly does the ritual entail.”

“Nothing pleasant,” Sophie admitted, unable to keep from grimacing.

                          ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Several young witches kneeled in the grass just outside a farmhouse. An older witch held a knife in her hand as she drew a small cut in the first girl’s hand, she had long dark curly hair. “To be reborn, we must sacrifice,” Bastiana stated like a vow. A chant.

“To be reborn, we must sacrifice.” The young girl repeated.

Bastiana moved down the line to the second girl. “To be reborn, we must have faith.” Bastiana cut into her hand much like she did the first girl.

“To be reborn, we must have faith.” The second girl repeated.

“Do you have faith in the Harvest?” asked Bastiana as she cut into the third girl’s hand.  

“Not for a second!” Sophie declared as she approached the older witch quickly from behind the girls.

“Sophie!” The first girl said in surprise.

“What are you doing?” Sophie's eyes were set on the older witch anger in her dark eyes.

“Saving the community you renounced.” Bastiana looked at her with contempt.

“You're all ridiculous.” Sophie looked at the first girl who had spoken her name. “Monique, seriously?”

Monique frowned and with a look of reluctance admitted. “My mom told me I had to.”

“Yeah. Well, your mom and I are gonna have words.” She responded angrily storming off toward the house.

At the end of the line was Davina watching as Sophie stormed away.

                                ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

“They had the girls of our community preparing for months. Four would be chosen for the Harvest. They said that it was an honor, that they were special. I thought it was a myth.” Said Sophie.

“Was it?” asked Rebekah.

A look of guilt flickered across Sophie's face, her frown deepening but before she could answer, Klaus's cell phone ringing sounded through the room.

He glanced at the screen and Marcel’s name flashed across it. He swiped his thumb over it before placing it against his ear. “Marcel. Bit early in the day for you, isn't it?”

“I know, I make this look easy, but I still have an empire to run.”

Caroline looked over her shoulder at Klaus, curiosity written across her face at hearing Marcel’s voice for the first time even if it was filtering through a phone call. Admittedly she was rather curious about the man that was a lot like a son to Klaus, she wondered what he was like having been raised up by the Original family.

“Rather you than me. All that responsibility seems like such a bore.” Klaus spoke into the phone easily.

“Well, this might spice things up,” Marcel responded. “ I just heard about a bunch of dead witches out in the bayou. The kinda damage a werewolf might do, only there was no full moon. Plus two more were found in the witch Quarter mutilated. I have an informant out there in the Bayou I need to meet and I would love for you to go with me.”

“Dead witches in the bayou. Sounds like less of a problem, and more like a cause for celebration.” Klaus said in response to Marcel. "As for the dead witches in the Witch Quarter." he turned his gaze on Sophie. "Seems to me someone was sending a message."

Sophie glared hatefully at him and it gave him a sense of triumph, he smirked smugly at her.  

“Well, something killed them. And may still be out there. And with your blood the only cure for a werewolf bite, I would love for you to accompany me.” Marcel insisted.

“Oh, why not? Haven't been to the bayou in ages. I'm on my way.”

“Peace out, brother,” Marcel responded before hanging up.

“You can't go out there now.” Sophie protested as Klaus pocketed his phone. “I need to gather the witches' remains and consecrate them. If I don't get to them before sundown, we'll lose the link to their magic.” she glared at him. "That goes for the witches you killed as well."

“Those witches tried to kill Hayley. I'd prefer for Marcel's informant not to find anything that would lead him back to us, to Caroline, to Hayley, or to... you know,” He pointed at Hayley’s stomach. “that.”

Caroline snorted earning a glare from Hayley.

“You are all class.” Hayley snarked.

Klaus pointed at Sophie. “Stay put.” He ordered. “And save the rest of your story 'til I return.” He turned and looked down at Caroline placing a hand on her arm. “A word before I go, Sweetheart.”

Caroline's brow furrowed unsure of what he had to talk to her about but stood, curious about what it could be. She followed him out the room and outside onto the porch.

Klaus turned to face her. "I know you're dead set on not hiding away as you put it and I'm not going to try and tell you what to do. Just don't be reckless. I hate to have to kill everyone in this bloody city because something happened to you."

Caroline rolled her eyes. "I'm not reckless."

Klaus raised a brow at her. "Since you've been in New Orleans you have been."

"No, I haven't," she replied indignantly. "Things are just crazy here."

Klaus would have argued with her more about it but Marcel was expecting him. "Just be careful, will you."

Caroline felt her instinct to argue with him fade at the genuine sound of his voice which held concern. "Yeah, I will." she watched him carefully, eyes flickering across his face. "I thought you would insist I stay put like you have been ever since this all started."

"Oh, I want to," Klaus said with a shake of his head. "Believe me, I want to. But your you're own person and you have the right to make your own decisions and I'm gonna do my best to respect them." he smiled wryly. "I don't know how well that will go. You're just gonna have to be patient with me."

Caroline laughed. "I'm sorry." she laughed. "It's just really ironic you asking for patience when I'm pretty sure you don't know how to be."

Klaus' eyes lit with amusement but he loved hearing her laugh and the way her eyes lit up. "Yeah, yeah. Just be careful."

"I will," she told him. "And thank you for understanding I make my own decisions. I hate when people tell me what to do."

"I know." he leaned forward, brushing a kiss across her cheek, close to her mouth. "I'll see you later." he walked down the porch steps.

"Why do you do that?" Klaus turned back to her on the bottom step, his brow furrowing questioningly. "I mean, the kissing my cheek thing."

Klaus smirked. "I love pressing my lips against your skin."

Caroline opened and closed her mouth, her cheeks heating up as she watched him turn and leave. She blew out a breath as she remembered vaguely what it had been like to have his lips against her skin that one night when she threw caution to the wind and slept with him. It seemed so long ago but she could still remember the way he had kissed her, the way his mouth felt against her skin, the way his tongue tangled with her own.

A heated flush traveled through her. "Damn him."

                            ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Marcel swept into St. Anne's church.

"Look who's back." Father Kieran, stopped sweeping the church floor. "Here to visit your prisoner in the attic?"

"Lay off," Marcel responded, he didn't need Father Kieran judging him. "She's not a prisoner. And I'm moving her tonight. Too many people know where she is."

"I have been hearing about what you've been up to since I've been out of town. Using that girl to keep the witches from doing magic?" His eyes appraised Marcel accusingly.

"All respect, Father K. If you're going defend the witches' rights, we got nothin' to talk about," Marcel stated, continuing on his way up to the attic.

                                      ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Elijah walked around the attic of the church that was serving as a room for Davina, who was drawing, he picked up Tim's damaged violin, holding it in his hand.  "Do you play?"

Davina looked over at him, her gaze falling. "That's... not mine."

Elijah took a seat in a chair and started tinkering with the violin for a moment but when he heard approaching footsteps outside the room he hid away in the room just as Marcel entered.  

"Good news, Little D. I'm moving you out this pile of dust." he announced.

"Are you serious?" Davina's eyes lit up with hope. "When?"

"Tonight." He said, missing the way she faltered. "I just need to lock in the arrangements. How's our Original?" he gestured to Elijah's coffin and took a step toward it.

"Uh, don't disturb the body!" She quickly stepped in front of the coffin. She didn't want Marcel to know Elijah was up or that she was talking to him. "I have a spell in progress." she lied.

"Bet you do. Pack up, 'kay? Only what you wanna take. I'll buy ya anything else you need." He told her moving back toward the door.

"Okay," she answered just before he left.

Once Marcel was gone Elijah emerged from behind a corner. "You didn't reveal that I was awake."

"We're not done talking yet," Davina stated, it was the only reason she hadn't said anything to Marcel.

Elijah picked up the violin again, retaking his seat. "You and Marcel seem very close."

"Marcel's my family." Davina declared with a certainty, a feeling she felt in her bones. No one could tell her otherwise.  

"And yet Marcel is someone who delights in harming the witches. Those people, I would think, you would consider family. This doesn't trouble you?" Elijah inquired, trying to figure the young witch out if she was as loyal to Marcel as she seemed to believe herself to be.

"No. They deserve it."

Elijah could hear the defiance in her tone. "Why would you say that?"

"'Cause they're liars." Davina accused. "All of them."

                                  ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Bastiana touched each of the four girls kneeling in the grass on their foreheads indicating that they had been chosen. Monique, Davina, and two other girls had been chosen for something that was considered a great honor among the witch community.

                             ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

"They made me and my friends do this Harvest ritual. They said our participation would bring our family strength, health... that we'd forever be celebrated as saviors of the community." Davina shook her head, anger written all over her features. "But all they really wanted was more power. So, I left before they could get it. Now, they're running out of time, because after the Harvest, comes the Reaping. And if they don't complete the Harvest, there won't be a Reaping. Soon, all the witches in the Quarter will start to lose their power. Eventually, they will cease to be witches altogether."

"So what does it take to complete this ritual?" Elijah inquired.

"I have to die." Davina answered, shocking Elijah.

                                 ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Sophie was in Lafayette cemetery, packing a little bottle into her backpack, preparing to go out to the Bayou, she heard someone entering the mausoleum behind her only to see Hayley enter.

"Hey. What the hell?"

"You're going out there anyway, aren't you?" Hayley questioned but didn't wait for an answer. "I wanna go with you."

"No, thanks. Already got assaulted by Klaus this morning and two of my coven is now dead. Don't need a repeat." she responded, plus she didn't want everything she and her sister sacrificed to be for nothing.  

"What if whatever is responsible for all those dead witches is still out there? We've already established that it likes me and hates witches, so you'll be safer with me." Hayley bargained.

"Sorry if it's not happening. I won't risk losing everything we've tried to accomplish up until now."

Sophie had every intention to push past her but Hayley blocked the exit, forcing her to stop.

"Listen. We're in this together. The whole reason I came to this stupid town in the first place was to learn more about my family. You and your sister promised if I help you, you'll help me. I've been keeping to my part," She motioned to her stomach pointedly. "Now it's time you do too. Your sister's the one that told me Marcel ran the werewolves out of the Quarter, into the bayou. And, last night, I'm pretty sure that some guardian-angel-wolf saved my life. So, I'm coming with you."

"Could you two be more idiotic?" Rebekah walked in.

"Clearly." Caroline appeared. "Their planning to go out to the Bayou aren't they?

Hayley and Sophie both froze. Hayley hoped they hadn't overheard too much but when she saw no signs of real anger she figured her and Sophie's secret was still safe, they shared a brief moment, sighing in relief.  

"Two can play the follow-game, you know!" Rebekah told them, looking at them like they were two of the stupidest people she ever met. "You heard Klaus, he and Marcel are headed right where you're going."

"So distract them," Hayley told her.  "Because unless you wanna see lock a hormonal, pregnant werewolf in a tomb, I'm coming with you." she told Sophie before turning back to Rebekah. "And wouldn't Elijah be mad if he hears that the babies and I died of asphyxiation?"

"Yeah, I'm nowhere near ready to die so that won't be happening." Caroline said with a pointed look. "Which is why I am here in the first place. If you're doing something stupid and reckless, I'm coming to make sure you don't get killed." Caroline wasn't about to let Hayley and Sophie get her killed because Hayley went and got herself killed. And she cared about what happened to the babies.

Hayley shot her a glare. " I know to keep myself from being killed."

"I won't be taking any chances." said Caroline, crossing her arms over her chest challengingly.  

Rebekah looked between Hayley and Caroline annoyed though she could see where Caroline was coming from, if her life was linked to a pregnancy she wouldn't have let Hayley out of her sight.  

Sophie rolled her eyes and sighed again, resigning to having Hayley, Caroline, and Rebekah come along with her. She and Hayley would have to be careful with what they say, couldn't have Caroline or Rebekah find out their true connection.

                                     ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Klaus stood just outside of the bar in the Bayou his phone pressed to his ear. "What's the matter, Rebekah? You cross that I'm out with your ex?"

" What is all that dreadful hillbilly ruckus in the background?" Rebekah demanded, hearing the god-awful country music in the background.

"According to the dreadful signage, it's Big Auggie's Bayou Bar."

"Well, order up a few rounds of moonshine and steer clear of the dead witches for a few. The witch is on a burial mission, your baby mama is on a spirit quest, and Caroline is insistent on her not getting herself killed and in turn her killed." Who would have thought she and Caroline would agree on something. "and I'm keeping Elijah's promise to keep her safe, so stall, please? "

"Caroline's out in the Bay-" the sound of Rebekah hanging up on him, had his jaw clenching in annoyance and anger. He was choosing to trust that Caroline could handle herself. He pocketed his phone, entering the bar.

"Everything okay?" asked Marcel taking notice of Klaus's sour mood.  

"Oh, just the usual. Temperamental sister." He dismissed, taking a seat at the bar next to Marcel. "So, where's your informant?"

"Tomas?" Asked Marcel. "He's out sniffin' around. Grab a drink, and then we'll chase him down."

"Well, I suppose it will give us a chance to talk things over, like why you haven't returned Elijah. Maybe your young witch has grown partial to his company. She must get so bored."

"You never stop, do you?" asked Marcel.  

"You never answer, do you?" Klaus shot back at him.  

"Why're you so curious about Davina?" Marcel questioned with suspicion.

"If I had a 16-year-old, all-powerful witch at my beck and call, you would wonder about her, too. " Klaus responded with ease.

"You're never gonna get her." Marcel said confidently, a spark in his eye.  

"Okay, okay. I'll ask the harmless questions, then." Klaus conceded. "How did you meet her?"

Marcel laughed. "That might surprise you." he saw no real harm in answering this question. "This was eight months ago, before I banned the witches from using magic. Relations between vampires and witches weren't what you'd you call friendly, by any means, but let's just say we were a little less... divided. In fact, some of us were getting along just fine."

                                           ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

The water cascaded down her body as she slanted her mouth against Marcel's, their skin slick and wet from the running shower beating down on them. After, Marcel laid back in his bed, while Sophie dried herself off beside him, venting to him about her coven. "Ugh, it's so screwed up, I'm dealing with whacked-out, militant witches."

Marcel smiled. "Hey, you witches all got a little crazy in you."

Sophie continued. "And my sister has really gone off the deep-end this time."

"Jane-Anne's got martyr written all over her, that's for sure."

"They've got every 16-year-old girl in our coven dying to be one of the four chosen for this crazy-ass ritual." Sophie complained.  

"Anything I can do to help?" asked Marcel.  

"No, you've caused enough trouble with them." Sophie responded though she did appreciate the offer.  

"What, little old me?" He asked with an air of innocence and confidence.  

Sophie giggled. "You're a dick. You always stir it up with the witches. Which is why this," She leaned over, touching her mouth to his, "stays between us." she slanted her mouth over his kissing him deeply.

                                            ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

"You and Sophie?" Kaus smirked. "You hypocrite. You torture those witches, and yet there you were, getting positively Romeo and Juliet with Sophie Deveraux."

"Oh, hey hey hey, it wasn't like that." Marcel denied with a grin. "It was a... mutually satisfying hook-up."

"So, if Sophie didn't turn to you, her secret vampire lover, in her hour of need, what did she do?" asked Klaus.

"She did what any good girl do. She went to her priest."

                                 ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Sophie, Father Kieran, Jane-Anne, Bastiana, and Agnes were gathered inside St. Anne's Church.

"You've never cared about witch business, Sophie. And now, you have the gall to reveal our private dealings to an outsider." said Bastiana glaring at the dark haired woman.  

"You have to find another way." Insisted Father Kieran.  

"You think we do this lightly?" Bastiana demanded. "The vampire presence in the Quarter is growing stronger, we need more power to fight them off. Harsh times call for harsh measures."

"This is a little more than harsh, Bastiana." Sophie responded, how could Bastiana not see how wrong this was.  

"You don't understand, because you don't believe. You've never believed." Jane-Anne told Sophie. "But I believe enough to put everything on the line for this. And being chosen for the offering – it's an honor."

"It's a myth, Jane-Anne." Sophie wanted to make her sister see reason but she didn't know how to.  

"What you are planning to do is not only wrong; in my city, it's illegal." Father Kieran declared, it wasn't something he could knowingly allow.  

"In your city full of vampires?" Jane-Anne countered.  

"The vampires and the human faction have an arrangement, just like we have with you all." Father Kieran responded. "Protect the locals, protect our homes, we look the other way. What you are planning goes too far."

"We are simply taking what we need." Argued Bastiana. "Our connection to our ancestors weakens over time. You sow, and you reap; that's the way the Harvest works."

"I am the only ally the witches have in this town!" Father Kieran reminded heatedly. "Do you really wanna face Marcel without me? Because that is what you'll be dealing with if you go through with the Harvest."

A young man overhears them arguing and approached them. "Everything okay in here, Uncle Kieran?" He questioned in concern.  

"We're just finishing, Sean. Right?" Father Kieran glared at the witches. "I believe I've made myself clear."

"We'll take this matter to the elders." Agnes responded turning to Sean and grasping his hand in hers. "Continue your studies, Sean. Your uncle is an excellent role model." she smiled something beguiling. Sean nodded and as she turned to leave, she muttered a hex under her breath, hexing the young man. Father Kieran would regret putting his nose in their business. Something that had absolutely nothing to do with the Father.

                                    ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

"The witches were furious with Kieran." said Marcel. "Sophie tells me that the witches put a hex on his nephew Sean, made it seem like he was slowly losing his mind in order to distract Kieran, while they kept planning for the Harvest."

"So they attacked Kieran's nephew." Klaus realized.  

"Yeah. Kid wasn't the same after that, ended up going postal, killing all his fellow seminary students, all of them, and then himself."

"I might have read about that. The boy... killed a twin, or he was a twin or something." he said knowing the boy was Cami's twin.  

"Ah, no no no, they said he had a twin sister." Marcel said,

confirming his suspicions.

Marcel sipped at his liquor, while Klaus downed all of his in one gulp.

                                     ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Elijah still tinkered around with the broken violin as Davina had started packing her suitcase.

"So, enlighten me. What did you mean when you said you had to die?" Inquired Elijah.

"That's what the Harvest was." Davina informed him. "They said they'd put us four girls in a state of, like, peaceful limbo as part of the offering. And then later, at the Reaping, we'd awaken and be reborn. I never got as far as the limbo part, which means the Harvest isn't complete. That's why the witches are so freaked out. The Reaping is just around the corner, and if they don't finish it before then, it's over. All I have to do is wait it out."

"And then what?" asked Elijah.  

"They're punished, and I'm free." She stated, she hoped and dreamed of that day when this stupid nightmare she'd been living would finally be over.  

"From Marcel?" Elijah questioned.  

Davina shook her head. "Of magic." she corrected. "All our power will drain away. I'll be normal." she smiled slightly at the thought.  

"Is that what you want?" asked Elijah rather surprised she would want something so mundane. "To be normal?"

"I just don't wanna be what I am. I can't control it sometimes. Magic. I..." Davina's eyes grew wet, a feeling of guilt in her chest. "hurt people. Even when I don't mean to."

"Why don't you tell me about your friends." Elijah suggested encouragingly. "You must miss them."

"There's Tim. He doesn't know about any of this witch stuff. He's normal. My best friend, Monique. She was a part of the Harvest too." She replied before adding. "She's lucky. No one ever fought for me, but someone fought for her. The only one who ever spoke out against the Harvest was Monique's aunt."

"And who is that?" Elijah wondered.  

Davina sighed.  "Sophie Deveraux."

Elijah looked at her in shock at the name and everything he was learning about the Harvest and everyone involved.

                                       ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Sophie, Rebekah, Caroline, and Hayley walked through the Bayou to look for the dead witches.

"So, this Harvest thingy—tell me more." Rebekah told Sophie.

"Klaus said to wait." Sophie insisted.

"Yeah, you seemed to listen to everything he says." Caroline drawled out sarcastically. "Or we not out in the swamps?"

"Exactly," Rebekah waved a hand at Caroline. "here we are, amongst the crawly, buzzy creatures."

"We're here." Hayley announced suddenly.  

Caroline looked around and it was definitely the place where the witches were killed. Their bodies or what was left of them littered the ground in bloody ripped apart pieces, heads torn from the bodies.

Sophie's stomach churned in disgust, feeling sick to her stomach at the sight, she knelt down digging around in her bag for the ingredients she needed to consecrate her fallen witches.

Hayley's eyes widened as she caught sight of a huge pawprint in the mud. "Whoa." And not far from the pawprint there were three bloody scratches marking the bark of a tree.

Sophie's brow furrowed. "Is that a wolf track?"

Caroline's head whipped around when she heard a crunching noise like sticks being stepped on. Her eyes zeroed in on an approaching male as Rebekah called out. "Who's there?"

"Rebekah."

Rebekah followed Caroline's line of sight.

"What the hell? An Original?" The vampire questioned.

Caroline felt her chest tightened they couldn't let anyone know they were out in the bayou. She ran at him but he booked it.

"Caroline, no!" Rebekah cursed, under her breath. "Fuck.  

Caroline could hear Rebekah calling after her but she ignored her and pushed faster to catch up to the guy and by some miracle she did, stepping in his path.

"Get out of my way" he growled.

"Can't do that." she tensed when he advanced on her and it was like her body acted on instinct alone. When his hand reached out to grabbed her she grabbed his wrist before he could touch her, twisting it behind his back, she shifted behind him bringing her knee up before bringing it back down on the back of his leg, she heard the bones breaking as he collapsed to his knee with a cry of pain, acting quickly she gripped his head and gave it a violent twist, snapping his neck, she pushed him away, his body crumpling to the floor.

"I gotta say you're a quick learner."

Caroline looked to her left and saw Rebekah standing there. "I just reacted to my instincts." She let her instincts take over and it felt good. Fuck, did it feel good to be in control again. "Is this going to be a problem? Should we call Klaus?" She didn't wait for Rebekah to answer already nodding to her own question. "I'm gonna call, Klaus."

                                             ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Klaus glanced down at his phone ringing, Caroline's name flashing. "I have to take this." he didn't bother waiting for Marcel's response as he walked outside. "Caroline, is everything alright?"

" Depends on your definition? " She responded.

"Are you okay? You're not hurt, are you?"

" No, I'm fine but I might have taken down one of Marcel's guys out in the bayou ." She hedged cautiously. " Well, Rebekah thinks he might be Marcel's informant."  

Klaus rolled his eyes heavenward. "And where was Rebekah during this encounter?"

"He caught me by surprise ." Rebekah huffed and realized Caroline must have handed her the phone.

"Let me understand this: against all logic, you, Caroline and Hayley went to the bayou, where you ran into a man you think may be Marcel's informant, and Caroline took him down?"

"She was quite efficient but now we have a problem, what do we do with him now that he saw us?"  

"I'll handle it, but I'll need a distraction," he told her. And he wanted to see that Caroline was unharmed with his own eyes.  

"I'm on my way." Rebekah hung up.

Klaus frowned, he would have rather talk to Caroline before she hung up. He pocketed his phone before going back inside.

"Your sister again?" asked Marcel as Klaus retook his seat at the bar.  

"She craves attention. So come along, you were just getting to the juicy bits."

"I can't joke around about this." said Marcel on a more serious note. "I've done a lot in my day, but I do have a rule about kids."

                                    ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

"No one but Sophie ever questioned the Harvest." said Davina. "Not even my own mother. So neither did I. We thought it was such an honor, we had such faith." Her face twistedth bitterness. "We were so stupid."

"So how did it begin?" asked Elijah.

"We were led out like princesses. My mother was so proud."

                                   ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Night had fallen, and the four girls were led out into the Lafayette Cemetery by the elders to start the Harvest. There were birdbaths with liquid that was lit on fire burning around them, creating a bright orange glow.  

Bastiana started speaking. "Our magic fades as our ties to our ancestors weaken over time. We beseech them, accept this offering as a sign of our faith."

The girls knelt in a row in the middle of the crowd of people, of witches gathered.

                                       ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

"Bastiana, one of the Elders, called upon the four elements to bind our past and future magic together. Earth, to connect us to our ancestors. Water, to heal the community. Wind, to carry us to our ancestors and back. Fire, to purify." Davina went on to continue telling Elijah her story. "After all our preparation, we knew exactly what to expect. For weeks they told us that the magic in the knife they used to cut our palms would put us to sleep, and that later at the Reaping, we would all be resurrected. They said we'd awaken, and all be together and more powerful than ever. And it was just like we rehearsed it. All that was left was a little cut on our palms for the blood sacrifice."

                                       ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

The first girl in the row stood up to begin the Harvest but it was interrupted immediately after when Sophie ran into the cemetery.  "No! Stop! Bastiana, stop! You have to stop, Bastiana, please don't do this!"

A male witch wrapped his arms around Sophie restraining her, covering her mouth with his hand so she couldn't intervene further or scream creating a larger scene.

                                 ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

"Even after Sophie tried to stop it, we didn't suspect anything." Davina stated.

                                   ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

"To be born, you must sacrifice. Do you have faith?" Bastina asked the girl.

The girl nodded in response and held out her hand for the blood sacrifice. But instead of taking her hand Bastiana slit the girl's throat, the young witch falling to the ground. The other three girls started to scream in terror, but they were restrained so that they couldn't run away. Davina's mother stared straight ahead at her daughter screams, unflinchingly.

                                              ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

"Everyone involved in the ritual knew that this would happen." Elijah realized.  

"Except the four of us. They weren't putting us to sleep, they were slaughtering us!" Davina said with pure betrayal.

                                                      ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

The next young witch was pushed forward and Bastiana slashed her throat despite her protests and her fear.

"No, no!" Davina screamed.

"Monique Deveraux." Bastina said.

"NO, NO, NOOO!" Davina screamed as a man forced Monique forward.  

                                           ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

"I begged for someone to help. My own mother turned away from me." She recalled how much it hurt that her own mother didn't lift a single finger to help her. "Sophie screamed and screamed for her sister, anyone, to do something."

                                        ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

" What is wrong with you!?" Sophie screamed at them all in horror.  

A worried look flickered across Jane-Anne but still, she did nothing. Said nothing.  

                                     ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

"But no one did." Said Davina, not a single member of their coven.

"And yet you survived." Elijah said pointedly. "Therefore, someone or something intervened."

Davina nodded. "Yes. Someone finally did."  

                                          ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

"Monique, run away! Run away!" Sophie shouted right before a shrill whistle cut through the horror and a group of vampires descended, killing the witches, led by one man. "Marcel."

                                  ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

"You're the one who stopped it." Klaus stated, appraising Marcel closely.  

"Kieran knew every detail from Sophie. After his nephew's massacre in the church, he was so torn up. He left town just before the Harvest. But on his way out, he came to me, and he asked me to stop the Harvest. He knew I didn't want the witches getting any more power. And I do have a rule about people abusing kids, so, I did what he asked." Marcel shook his head ruefully. "But I was too late."

                                   ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

The vampires attacked the Elders. One of them ripping into Bastianna's throat, draining her dry before letting her dead boy fall to the ground, the magic knife she used to slit the girl's throats clattering to the ground. Agnes acted quickly picking up the fallen knife, grabbing Monique, slashing her throat clean open.

Davina screamed, hysterical and trying to break free of the arms around her as hard as she could. "No, Monique! Nooo! Let go of me! Stop it! Stop it! Let go of me! Stop it!"

Marcel watched as she screamed and rage and fought back, thrashing, headbutting the guy holding her in the face. Marcel sprung into action, killing the man quickly and taking Davina protectively into his arms. "I got you." He murmured, doing his best to assure her that she was safe. That he would protect her.

                                          ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

"There was something about seeing Davina fight." Marcel said, sloshing his drink around in his glass. "She didn't just go along to the slaughter, you know?"

Klaus smiled slightly thinking of a younger version of the man sitting next to him. "I do... Marcellus."

A somber look came over Marcel. "I felt like she and I... we were kindred spirits. "

Klaus could understand where Marcel was coming from. He had felt the same when he met him.

                                     ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Marcel held Davina protectively to him while Sophie knelt on the ground, holding Monique's body in her lap. Grief-stricken, Sophie looked up at Marcel and Davina. Davina extended her hand out toward Monique. A light inside Monique leaked out from her body and into Davina's outstretched hand, Sophie and Marcel stare at her in utter amazement.

                                      ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

"Every girl who died released her power on to the next. When I was the last one, I suddenly had all of it, all the power that was supposed to be released back into the earth to appease our ancestors." Davina explained.

"So... the Harvest was actually working?" Elijah inquired.  

"Something was working." She couldn't be sure it was the harvest and she did not want to find out. "And I knew that I was supposed to be killed so the Harvest could be completed and we would all be resurrected. But, they lied to us about how they were killing us. How do I know they weren't lying to us about coming back?" She paused, falling silent for just a moment before admitting. "But mostly, I just didn't want to die. So, I let him save me. Marcel saved my life."

                                            ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Marcel watched the look of surprise flicker across Sophie's face and vamp-sped himself and Davina out of there before the witches could take her back and complete the sacrifice by killing her.

                                           ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Elijah felt a strong wave of disgusted by how Davina, someone who was still a child in the larger scheme of things was treated, he felt an equally strong wave of sympathy for her it was no wonder the girl latched onto Marcel and trusted him to keep her safe.

                                              ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

“You were quite the knight in shining armor, though Davina must realize you owe her as much as she owes you. You never could have banned the witches from using magic without her.” Klaus stated.  

“She's not exactly besties with them.” Marcel responded. “I'm protecting her. A lot of them would like to get their hands on her and kill her to finish the Harvest. If they don't, the other girls stay dead, and they lose their power.”

“And if they do, you lose yours.” Klaus said knowingly.  

“And Davina loses her life.” Marcel stated.  

“Isn't this like old times?” Rebekah said in greeting announcing her arrival. “Just how drunk are you two?”

“Skating on the razor's edge.” Klaus responding intentionally slurring his words as if he was actually drunk. “I'm gonna use the loo. Back in a tick.”

“I haven't seen him this lushy since the '20s.” Said Rebekah, once he got up from his seat, disappearing from sight.  

“So you came to take him home?” asked Marcel.

“Why else would I be here?” She responded.  

“I don't know. Maybe to make sure I didn't get too drunk and spill secrets better left unspilled about you and me. I know better.” He told her.  

“I hope so because you don't wanna end up on the wrong side of me.” she threatened.  

“Oh, Rebekah Mikaelson.” he said, locking his gaze on hers. “You do not wanna be on the wrong side of me.”

The two stare at each other intently, gazes lock, a quiet tension falling over them.

                                                 ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Klaus walked outside glancing around before taking off heading for tha Bayou. It didn’t take long for him to hear Sophie complaining. “Marcel is going to notice his guy missing. You shouldn’t have done that.”

“No, I should have just let him go back to Marcel with what he saw.” Caroline retorted. “That would have been a much better option. Wouldn’t it? All you care about is consecrating your dead witches.”

“If I don’t their power could be lost forever.” Sophie insisted.

“And won’t that be tragic you could no longer control peoples lives to suit your own agenda.” Caroline sniped.

“Could you two stop arguing for five minutes.” Hayley snapped annoyed with their bickering. “You’re going to lead someone straight to us.”

“Too late for that.” Klaus stated, watching as Caroline whirled around her annoyed expression quickly fading.

“Klaus.” She said and there was an edge of relief in her voice that he enjoyed.

He moved toward and glanced at the body she stood over. “I take this is, Marcel’s informant, Tomas?”

Caroline nodded. “I just acted when I saw him and I have no idea what we’re supposed to do with him now.”

Klaus settled his hand on her shoulder. “No, you did good. You weren’t hurt were you?” He asked his eyes looking her over carefully.

“No, it was over really fast,” Caroline said, a little surprised that she had taken care of him so quickly.

“Don’t sound surprise, Love.” He grinned at her. “I think you’ll find you’re more than exceptional when you set your mind to something.”

“Are you going to flirt with Caroline until he wakes up or can we get to the issue at hand.” Sophie waved a hand at the currently dead vampire.

Klaus shot her a glare. “Mind your tongue.” before ignoring her completely turning back to Caroline. “I’ll take care of this.” he told Caroline. “Do try not to get in any more trouble, will you?"

“No promises there.” Caroline knew how much trouble and her seemed to go hand in hand these days. “What are you going to do to him. You can’t kill him, you’ll tip Marcel off.”

“Let me worry about that,” Klaus stated, scooping up the body, throwing it over his shoulder. “I’ll see you back at the house, Love.”

Caroline watched as he sped away.

“It’s like we weren’t even here.” Sophie grumbled. It was like he had Caroline blinders or something. If she was near that was all he cared about.

“It’s not surprising.” Hayley glanced around the forest. “Now that that’s taken care of we should hurry this long before more of Marcel’s men show up.”

Caroline had to agree. Maybe next time she wouldn’t be so lucky in taking the enemy down so quickly but man did it feel good.

                                            ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Klaus glanced around at his surroundings outside the bar, making sure no one was around before stuffing Thomas’s body into the back of his car, carelessly, shutting the door. That was one problem taken care of.

                                      ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Elijah proudly presented Tim's violin to Davina. “You may return this now to its rightful owner. It's restored.”

Davina accepted the instrument, staring at it with a sad expression.  “I don't even know if I'll see him again.”

The room started to shake as if there was an earthquake. Elijah and Davina looked around worriedly, the window shutters burst open as the shaking abruptly stopped.

Elijah looked at the young witch in worry realizing she couldn’t control the power that she had. “Davina, this power that you contain, drawn from your fallen friends—it's too much for you. You need control which requires study and practice.” This was a way for him to gain her trust and possibly an ally in her.  “Now, my mother was a very powerful witch. She left behind her grimoires, a legacy of books filled with spells. These books contain all of the tools that you might need to control your magic. If you free me from here, I can share them with you. However, if you leave now with Marcel, we'll never see each other again, and I cannot find you, and I can't help you.”

Davina glared at him. “The witches manipulated me. You know how that ended.”

“This is not manipulation. This is one thing in exchange for another. I'm offering you a deal.” Elijah responded, hoping she would consider her options.

                                             ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Klaus entered the bar again only to find Marcel was gone just as Rebekah was returning from the restroom.

“That was fast work, Rebekah.” He praised almost tauntingly.

“Where's Marcel? In there, touching up his lipstick?”

Rebekah shot him a disgusted look. “Credit me with some taste, it's filthy in there. Where'd he go?”

Klaus’s eyes narrowed. “He didn't tell you he was leaving?”

“No.” she frowned. “Do you think he realized we were stalling him?”

“No.” but then it occurred to Klaus. “Unless... he was stalling us.”

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Marcel bursts into Davina's room. He wasn’t sure how much time he had until Klaus realized he had been stalling him. He was completely unaware of Elijah hiding in his own coffin. “Okay, now's our shot. You ready to blow this joint?”

Davina smiled. “Can't wait.”

Marcel grabbed  Davina's suitcase.  “We'll leave Elijah behind as a parting gift. Might buy me a little forgiveness for pulling one over on his siblings. Let's go.”

The two leave the attic with Davina giving her room a final parting glance before she followed Marcel.

Elijah waited till they were out of earshot before pulling himself out of his coffin.

Downstairs, Marcel walked ahead of Davina but she stopped suddenly in the middle of the church's main room, and he turned to look back at her, concerned.  “What's wrong? What's happening?"

The church started shaking, ”I don’t know. Something’s wrong.” her body tensed up as she started spasming.

Marcel ran up to her, to help her in any way he could.

“Marcel. There's something dangerous out there.” she warned. “Take me back!” she demanded before losing consciousness.  

Marcel caught her before she could collapse to the ground. “Damn it.”  He picked her up carrying her back to her room.

Elijah, smiled waiting in the doorway, he hid before Marcel reached the room.

Marcel placed her on to her bed, tucking her in, and looking at her with a tender look for just a moment before taking his leave.  

Once he was gone, Davina opened her eyes and lifted her head, dropping the act.  

                                               ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Marcel and Davina entered the attic room for the first time. “No one's gonna look for you here. It's only for a little while, 'til I get you out of town and someplace safe.” he reassured her. “For now I can get you whatever you want. What do you like to do? “

“Draw.” she whispered, nervous.  

“An artist, huh? That's cool, okay. I can buy out Vincent's for you tomorrow. Maybe get you some curtains, or–”

“Marcel?” She interrupted. “You know what I really want?” she paused for just a beat. “I wanna make them pay.” and Marcel nodded in response.  

                                                      ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Davina sat up in the bed when she was sure Marcel was gone. “Elijah?” she called out.  

Elijah emerged from where he had hidden himself. “I'm pleased you stayed.”

“You'll keep your promise about your mother's spell book?” Davina questioned.  

“I will.” Elijah said. “You know, difficulties aside, I value my family above everything. I am sorry that yours failed you.”

“Your brother Klaus handed you to Marcel in a box, yet you still don't give up on him?” Davina questioned, having trouble understanding how that was possible.  

“Well, I've given up on giving up.” said Elijah. “It's an affliction. I will fight for my family until my last breath.”

“And I'll fight the witches until mine.” Davina declared. She wanted them to pay for everything they have done.

                                                  ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

“Now what? You just gonna leave her up there for anybody to find?” Father Kieran questioned as Marcel was leaving the chuch..

“I'm not in the mood, Kieran.” Marcel responded annoyed.  

“You were supposed to get her out of New Orleans after the Harvest.” Father Kieran reminded him. “We failed those other three girls, we didn't fail her. That is why I came to you for help. That was the plan.”

“Plans change.” Marcel told him.  

“Especially after you found out how powerful she was.” said Father Kieran with judgment.  

“Let's get something straight.” Marcel tired of the Father’s judgment. “For eight months since you left, I've been running this town just fine. I don't need you coming back and gettin' in my business. I will do what I want, where I want. Got it?”

“You wanna be the boss? You wanna call the shots?” Father Kieran shot back defensively. “Fine. But I call the shots with the humans. And you don't wanna make an enemy of me. So, I would suggest one thing—stay away from my niece.”

“Fine. Who the hell's your niece?” Marcel asked.  

“Cami.” Father Kieran answered causing Marcel to stop in his tracks, processing what Kieran just revealed to him before huffing in frustration and leaving.

                                                   ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Night had fallen, Hayley, Caroline, and Sophie were returning to Sophie's truck

“Those people, all this, because of a vision about these babies, you don't think it’s true?” Hayley wondered.

Caroline frowned at Hayley. “These Babies? That’s how you address your children?”

Hayley shifted, uncomfortably, glancing quickly at Sophie before looking back at Caroline. “I meant my babies.”

“Look, I love Sabine, but she's the witch equivalent of a drama queen.” Sophie cut in quickly, hoping to distract Caroline. “I've learned to take little stock in whatever she says or sees. Just kinda wish she'd kept her mouth shut.”

“The Harvest ritual. You said you didn't believe in it. Were you right?” asked Hayley.  

“No. I saw it with my own eyes.” Sophie answered. “It was working. It was real.”

“So, how can you be so sure Sabine's vision isn't?” Asked Hayley.

Sophie didn’t have an answered because the truth was if it was true those babies would have to be killed.

“It doesn’t matter if it’s true are not,” said Caroline strongly. “Your children are going to be a target simply because Klaus is their father. You shouldn’t be worrying about something that might not come to pass and focus on keeping them safe.”

“And you would be so willing to protect them?” asked Sophie. She wondered how Caroline could speak so fiercely about children that she didn’t even know were actually her’s.

“Yes.” Caroline said without hesitation. Beyond the fact that Klaus fathered the twins Hayley carried they were two innocent babies who didn’t ask for any of this for that fact alone she would protect them.

Hayley’s hand drifted to her stomach self-consciously, feeling protective of the babies inside of her even as guilt filled her.

                                                   ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Marcel walked into the courtyard of the Abattoir not surprised to find Klaus waiting for him.

Klaus stood on the top of a cement barrier. “Taking me on a field trip to distract me. Pathetic. And obvious—I taught you better than that.”

“You taught me to protect what's mine.” Marcel countered. “You will not take Davina from me—end of story.”

“An immutable law of nature, Marcel, is the strong always take from the weak.”

“Oh, if you were so strong, you wouldn't have run away from New Orleans like a little bitch, all those years ago.” Marcel responded with ire.  

Klaus jaw clenched at the insult, jumping down from where he was standing, his fist slamming into Marcel. “You've been playing king with a bunch of children for too long. Don't mistake me for one of your nightwalker lackeys, Marcel. I can take Davina anytime I like.”

Marcel lunged for Klaus in retaliation but was knocked back down, hitting the ground, he looked up and Elijah stood there.

“Do forgive me, Marcel. If anyone is to teach my brother a lesson... it's me.”

Klaus stared at his brother in shock, his jaw clenching. He had spent so much time trying to get Elijah back yet here he stood in front of him and if he was honest with himself he wasn’t all too pleased to see him.

                                                       ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

“You did good out there today, Caroline.” Rebekah told Caroline grabbing three glasses, they had returned to the Mikaelson mansion. “I didn’t expect you to take down Marcel’s informant so easily.”  

Caroline smiled at the compliment as Rebekah poured several drinks as she started speaking to Hayley. “I don't care if we have to get you a leash, that was your last trip to the bayou.” Rebekah said to Hayley as she poured three glasses. “What is it with you and those wolves, anyway?”

“I feel like we're connected somehow. I don't know. Maybe it's just some pipe dream that I have of finding any real family out there.” She hoped she wasn’t deluding herself that she could find any semblance of her real family out there. She didn’t want everything she had done to be for nothing. “But sometimes, when I feel like it's me against the world, it keeps me going.”

Rebekah gave Hayley a sympathetic look and handed her a drink.

“She can’t have that!” Caroline protested as Hayley side-eyed Rebekah.

A look passed over Rebekah as she remembered that because of Hayley being pregnant that she should not be drinking. “Oh, right.” Rebekah shrugged and gulp down the glass she poured for Hayley in one go. “Well, if you ask me, family is a pain in the behind.” She held a glass out to Cariline as Hayley rolled her eye.

Caroline accepted the drink. “Thanks.”  

“And as for being in it alone, how dare you? I don't ruin a perfectly fabulous pair of boots traipsing through the bayou for just anyone.” Rebekah told Hayley sending her a pointed look.

Hayley smiled and Rebekah downed her second drink. The conversation between the girls was interrupted when Klaus came walking through the front door.

“Klaus.” Caroline smiled. “Finally, I-” she trailed off as Elijah walked in behind him with a huge smile and she tensed instinctively, remembering how he had invaded her mind.

“Elijah!” Rebekah broke out into a smile, running to Elijah and hugging him tightly. “You’re safe.”

Caroline not really wanting to stick around for Elijah’s reunion, downed her glass before reaching for the bottle, walking past Elijah and Rebekah, offering Klaus a faint smile as she passed him, heading outside.

Klaus brow furrowed as he watched her head outside. He wasn’t the least bit surprised that Rebekah was thrilled Elijah was back but he was surprised by Caroline’s reaction. Caroline had not gotten the chance to get to know Elijah yet but still, she seemed less than pleased about his return.

Klaus threw one more look at his siblings, watching as his brother went in obvious search of Hayley. Klaus turned, walking back outside. He didn’t see Caroline right away, which had him tensing. He scanned the grounds and caught sight of her walking to the apple tree and taking a seat on the ground with her back against it.

He tilted his head watching her a moment as she took a drink from the bottle of bourbon she had grabbed, he frowned wondering what was wrong.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Caroline sat back against the tree, her hands peeling at the label of the bottle she held.

She was happy for Klaus and Rebekah. That they had gotten their brother back but that didn’t mean she had to like it. It was conflicting to be happy for them but also not liking it. When Elijah was around she felt like she had to have her guard up every second, not wanting him to mess with her head again.

She looked up at approaching footsteps to see Klaus. “What are you doing out here?” he asked.

“Wanted some fresh air.” she said in answer.

Klaus didn’t think she needed to come all the way out here for fresh air. He took the last few steps forward taking a seat beside her against the tree, his arm brushing against hers. “What’s wrong?”

Caroline turned her head to look at him and found his intense blue gaze on her expectantly. She looked away, avoiding, his eyes. “Nothing.” she dismissed.

“I don’t believe that.” Klaus shook his head, he turned his body toward hers, reaching to cup her cheek and direct her eyes back to him. “Tell me what’s wrong? What’s bothering you?”

Caroline stared back at his searching his gaze and felt compelled to tell him the truth. Not because he was trying to compel her because he wasn’t and she knew he wouldn’t. But because of the concern in his gaze, left her with the feeling of being pulled toward him in the best way. “Your brother? Elijah. I don’t like being around him. I don’t trust him not to try and mess with my head like before.”

“You mean when the witches had you and he searched through your memories?” Klaus frowned. “It really bothers you, doesn’t it? Having someone mess with your head?” He recalled how she reacted when she learned he was compelling Cami, a woman, she didn’t even know. Her dislike for the way he controlled his hybirds. How determined she was to not let Silas into her head again.

“No one likes having their head mess with.” She avoided looking into his eyes by looking over his shoulder.

Klaus felt anger boiling at the surface, a quiet rage feeling his chest but it wasn’t for him or his family or his plans. No, this anger had far more importance. There was only one reason why Caroline could possibly feel so passionately about this. Someone had messed with her head and since vampires couldn’t compel other vampires it had to have happened when she was still human. “Who?” his voice was low with anger, taking on a darker tone than he usually used with her.

“What?” Caroline brow furrowed in confusion.

“Who messed with your head when you were still human?” He demanded, his hand gripped her arm. “Who compelled you?!”

Caroline glanced down at his hand, his grip tight before dragging her eyes back to his. Klaus realizing he might be hurting her lessen his grip and brushed his hand down her arm until he could grasp her smaller hands in between his larger one. “Tell me?”

Caroline was sure if she told him the truth he would kill Damon and she couldn’t allow that. Not because he didn’t deserve it because there was a part of her that would always believe he deserved whatever he got for what he did to her. But because of how much Stefan loved his brother and she wouldn’t wish that loss on her best friend regardless of her anti-Damon feelings.

“Caroline..” His thumb brushed against her wrist, making goosebumps rise on her flesh. “Tell me.”

Still, she hesitated even though he was looking at her so imploring sounding completely earnest and genuine.

“Please, Caroline.” his other hand reached out to cup her cheek. “I need to know.” He had to know so he could make the person pay in the worst way imaginable.

Caroline opened and closed her mouth, her hand reaching up to grip the one he had on her cheek, seeing the concern, the need to know who hurt her, Caroline felt herself giving in. “You can’t kill him.”

“Kill who?” he just needed a name and they would pay for their mistreatment of her.

“You have to promise me you won’t kill him.” If she was going to tell him she had to know she wasn’t signing Damon’s death warrant.

Klaus clenched his jaw, reluctant to make a promise he was certain he would break.

“Promise me.” Caroline insisted, her hand tightening around his.

Klaus breathed deeply, his chest rising and falling with the movement. “I promise.”

Caroline watched him for any sign that he was lying before nodding more to herself than him. “Damon.” she admitted slowly. “It was Damon.”

Klaus' eyes thinned, jaw clenching, he had to keep his hands from, tensing not wanting to hurt her as he slowly removed his hand from hers, not certain his anger wouldn’t get the better of him in a moment of impulsiveness. “What he did he do? What manner did he compel you?”

Caroline frowned as she looked away, her eyes closing as she forced the memories of those few weeks with Damon to the back of her mind as they started to surface.

“Caroline.” Klaus’s hand squeezed around her own, bringing her eyes back to him slowly.

“When I met Damon I was still human. Honestly, I was an insecure mess. I felt like everything I did back then was in competition with Elena. So when Damon showed up showing an interest in me it felt like a win.” She murmured quietly. “But it wasn’t. That first night I slept with him on my own but he fed on me and when I woke up I was terrified, I remember what he had done.”

Klaus felt rage coursing through him that Damon would dare feed on Caroline, prey on her insecurities. But he forced himself not to react physically, feeling there was more to the story and we wanted to know all of it. He didn’t want Caroline shutting down on him now that he convinced her to tell him something so personal. “What happened after?”

“I fought him but he attacked me again and later he compelled to be okay with the fact that he was a vampire. He fed on me, treated me like a human blood bag.” She shook her head in disgust. “He had me run stupid errands for him, he was cruel, I was nothing but a puppet that he could feed on anytime he wanted.” Her fist clenched, muscles tightening, her stomach turned like acid. “It went on for a few weeks” she muttered in utter disgust.

“Damon controlled you, he took your choices away.” The words were said through clenched teeth, his voice lethal.

Caroline nodded slowly. "Yes, he took my choices away. My actions were not always my own."

The thought of anyone taking Caroline's choices away from her, controlling her actions, feeding on her like she was nothing but a walking blood bad angered him. He wanted to tear Damon apart.

Klaus reached up, cupping her face, his other one wrapping around her hand. “You deserved so much better than what Damon Salvatore did to you. No one should have treated you like that.” he paused, his hand tightening around her hand as he felt it tremble in his grip. “Does your mom know?”

“No.” Caroline gave her head a shake. “I never told her.”

“What about Stefan? Elena? Do they know what he was doing to you?”

Caroline admitted in a whisper. “They knew what was going on.”

“And they did nothing!” Klaus responded heatedly unable to keep his opinion to himself. “Because of your friends, Elena, you had to pretend like nothing was wrong!”

“These friends of yours that you’re so determined to stay loyal to they don’t deserve you none of them. You’re worth so much more, Caroline,” he cupped her face with both his hands. “You deserve people in your life who will always put you first. You deserve someone who would show you even a fraction of the loyalty you have shown your worthless friends.”

Caroline bit her lip to keep it from trembling. “And that someone’s supposed to be you?” she asked her voice somber.

“I’ll be whoever you want me to be.” Klaus told her. “But more importantly I will never let anyone treat you the way you’ve been treated, I will never let anyone hurt you.”

His words hit her in the chest, causing the pain she felt to lessen. She knew he meant every word and she felt a gratitude that what she’d been through hadn’t just been swept under the rug because it was convenient. She couldn’t stop her self as she reached out, gripping fistfuls of his shirt and tugging him forward, wrapping her arms around his waist.

Klaus’s hands fell away stunned by her embrace but seconds later he wrapped one around her and stroked a hand through her hair as she buried her face in the crook of her shoulder. “I promise, you’ll never have your choices taken from you again.”

And when the time came and he saw Damon again he would make him pay, he wouldn’t kill him.

He would make him suffer in ways he never imagined. His eyes blackened taking on the look of his hybrid eyes, hugging her more tightly to his body as he continued stroke a hand through her blonde strands.

Caroline's arms tightened around, feeling a wave of comfort as his hand's stroke through her hair, his strong arms around her making her feel like there was not a single thing on this earth that could hurt her in this moment.

It could have been seconds or minutes or longer but footsteps sounded before they were being interrupted. “Niklaus, come inside, I have information to share.”

Caroline pulled away at the sound of Elijah’s voice and tried to compose herself, putting more distance between her and Klaus.

“Not now, Elijah.” Klaus snapped, annoyed with the intrusion.

“This is important Niklaus.” Elijah insisted, looking between the two.

Klaus snapped his gaze around to his brother. “I said not now, Elijah!”

“No, it’s fine.” Caroline stood up, brushing grass from her pants. “It could be important.”

Klaus stood, taking her hand in his and catching her eye. “ You’re importan t, Caroline.”

Caroline shot him a warm smile, appreciating his words. “So is this.” She looked at Elijah her warm smile fading. “We’re coming.”

Elijah observed the two, his eyes zeroing on his brother’s grasp on Caroline’s hand with a thoughtful look before he nodded, walking back toward the house.

“Thank you.” Caroline told Klaus, taking a step closer to him when Elijah was gone and brushed a lingering kiss to his cheek, her free hand, gripping his shoulder.

Klaus nodded in surprise, squeezing her hand, his eyes taking her in, feeling more connected to her than he had before.

Caroline gently removed her hand from his and nodded to the house with a small smile. “We should join the others.”

Klaus nodded reluctantly, grabbing up the last bit of the bottle finishing it off and tossing it aside, before placing a hand on her lower back as they the walk back to the house. A comfortable silence between them.

                                                ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

The Mikaelson siblings, Hayley and Caroline sat around the study in various places, Elijah stood behind the desk in the room, explaining everything that he had managed to learn from Davina. “Everything that brought us here to New Orleans was a lie.”

A trickle of fear traveled down Hayley’s spine. They couldn’t know the truth about her and Sophie, could they? The truth about the babies she carried?

“This story that Sophie Deveraux fabricated, this struggle for control of the French Quarter, this war between vampires and witches, wasn't over territory at all, this was over Davina.”

Relief hit her like a wave but she did her best not to outwardly show it. She was just glad that they hadn’t found out the truth of her envolvement with Sophie or how she had stolen something, two something’s that were never meant to be hers but was a price she was willing to pay if it meant she got her family back. Her pack.  

“So all of this for one girl?” Caroline asked, trying to understand. It was a lot to go through all to get to one girl.

“She isn’t just any one girl.” Elijah responded.

                                            ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

“I swear, I had no idea that the Harvest could possibly be real!” Sophie argued, to her sister in the back room of Rousseau’s. Her face was filled with guilt and grief, eyes wet with tears.  

“But the one thing that you were sure of is that I was wrong and that I would risk Monique's life on a maybe. And now my daughter is dead.” Jane-Anne cried, face grief-stricken.  

“Please tell me how to fix this.” Sophie pleaded desperately.  

“Now that Marcel has Davina, how we are even supposed to find her? If we don't finish the Harvest, Monique and those two other girls are dead for real.” Jane-Anne responded, sounding defeated, lost.

Sophie stepped toward her sister, grabbing her hands.  “Look at me. You and I are gonna find a way to get Monique back.” She said firmly, face set in determination. “It'll be our little secret. We'll do it together. I'll seal off the cemetery from the vampires, find Davina, stop Marcel and finish the ritual once and for all. Even if I have to slit Davina's throat myself.”

Jane-Anne nodded, holding tightly to her sister’s hand as she gave her something to hope for. A chance to get her daughter back. No matter the cost.  

                                            ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

“Eight months ago, Sophie Deveraux and her sister Jane-Anne lost everything. Now, four months after that, a young pregnant girl wanders into their restaurant. Suddenly, all hope is renewed. Jane-Anne actually sacrificed her life so that her sister could use Hayley to find Davina. If Sophie Deveraux is successful in capturing Davina, she can return Jane-Anne's daughter back to life.” Said Elijah with weight, looking at each of them. “We thought we'd come here to wage a war for power. This is about family. In order to return her niece to life, Sophie Deveraux will fight to the death. That makes her more dangerous than anyone.”

                                                     ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Sophie kneeled in front of Jane-Anne's grave at Lafayette Cemetery in the pouring rain, crying. She was not going to let her sister’s death be in vain. She would get her niece, Sophie back at any cost. And she didn’t care who she had to sacrifice to do it.

                                                 ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Hayley slipped out of the room with the excuse that she was tired but the truth was she needed a moment, breathing deeply, she pushed down the fear that they would find out the truth. She knew if Klaus ever did find out she would be as good as dead. No amount of pleading, begging or negotiating would save her.

She prayed to a god she didn’t even believe in that if Klaus ever did find out the truth she would be long gone.  

Notes:

The Klaus and Caroline scene discussing her experience with compelling was not what I wrote at first. I changed it cause I didn't want to offend anyone but I will be posting the original scene I had planned separately if you want to check it out. It may be triggering so if you're easily triggered you shouldn't read it or if you're a big Damon fan.

Thanks for reading and the continued support for this story. It keeps me motivated.

[andsundrymuses]

The Rules

This blog is 18+ (please do not follow or interact if you’re underage). Mun is 30+. Please be honest about your age.

No godmodding. There is always some grey area, of course. I’ll tell you if you cross my line, and please do the same for me. If it continues to be a problem after that, I will drop our threads.

Respect. It goes both ways. I try to be nice and approachable, and expect the same. Ooc homophobia, biphobia, transphobia, racism, sexism, ableism, and the like will get you unfollowed and possibly blocked. Any of those things IC will be evaluated case by case.

Following: I only RP with mutuals, and I am selective about following because I like a clean dash. If I’ve followed you, I want to rp with you. I can be shy, though, and sometimes I may not have a clear idea how to start stuff with your character. If we haven’t interacted at all after a while, though, I will likely unfollow for my own sanity. I will not follow any rp blogs that do not have their age listed somehow (21+, “of age”, etc.). 

Unfollowing: I reserve the right to unfollow whoever I want at any time, and you are free to do the same. I only ask that if you unfollow me and we were mutuals, please also soft block me too.

Duplicates: Feel free to follow me! Come cry and scream with me about our muses. Let’s do weird ass same muse AUs. I probably won’t follow first (exceptions might be made for multimuse blogs featuring same muses that clearly state they’re okay with duplicates), because I know it stresses some people out, but if you follow me first, I’ll probably follow back. :D

I tend to write para/multi-para rp. 2-4 paragraphs is the sweet spot for me, but sometimes I get on a roll and write novels for people. Sorry? Short stuff, one liners, texting posts, and crack often get dropped without notice if they don’t develop into more. You don’t have to match my lengths, but at least put in the effort to give me something to respond to. And if you’re consistently replying to my multi para replies with a few sentences, I will probably drop our thread.

If you are not roleplaying with me on a given thread, please don’t reblog it! Do not reblog personal/ooc posts or graphics I’ve made specifically for this blog’s use.

Feel free to send me asks and memes and spam my inbox whether we’re mutuals or not! I love it! I will usually delete asks if they stay in my inbox over a week, but if you send something and I don’t answer, it just means I didn’t have muse or an answer for it right then. It doesn’t mean I’m ignoring you or that I never want to hear from you again. Sometimes things work, sometimes they don’t, but if you keep throwing things at me, eventually something will.

Discord is available for MUTUALS for both ooc chat and ic rp @ weaponizedembrace#6384. Please tell me who you are, if it’s not obvious. 

I don’t require formatting or icons for interaction. It’s all about the writing at the end of the day. I use standard text and sometimes I use icons, though sometimes I don’t.

No OOC hate/drama on the dash. Repeated negative vagueing will likely get you unfollowed/softblocked. My anon is turned off because people couldn’t be nice, and I am a ball of anxiety and depression a lot of the time. For anyone “brave” enough to send hate to me under their actual urls, know that most of it will be deleted (and the sender will probably be blocked). If I ever feel I need to respond to hate/drama sent directly to me in my ask box, it will be tagged “wank”. Please blacklist accordingly, if you wish.

Shipping: 1) I ship chemistry. I will likely want to write at least a little with you before fully committing to shipping, no matter who your muse is. 2) Respect my muses listed sexuality, even if it means we can’t ship. 3) If you send me a shippy/smutty meme and we’ve never even discussed shipping, be prepared for my muses to respond in a way that might not be positive (or for me to delete your ask). 4) If you want to ship, talk to me. Chances are, I want to ship too, but please don’t just throw shipping at me out of the blue.

Smut: I like writing smut, but only once muses are muns are comfortable with each other. How long that takes will vary. Do not expect my muses to be DTF in our first thread, though it may occasionally happen.

I try to cut posts. Exceptions to this: if the thread involves three or more muses (for ease of rereading later, all replies after my last one will be reblogged with my new reply, if possible). Sometimes I reblog asks for ease of rereading later as well. I will always cut it the next reply, if you don’t first. (If this is really an issue for you, tell me and I won’t do it on the threads I have with you.)

Triggers: 1) Canon-typical violence/blood/etc. will not be tagged in most cases. I will try to remember to tag nsfw (my tag is “metal arm kink || nsfw”, if you need to block it), and for triggers. “tw: death”, “tw: drugs”, etc. If I forget one or there’s one I’m not tagging that you think I should be, please message me! And if you guys could, please tag for “cancer” for me. I may not always need this, but it’s appreciated for now. 

Other tags you may want to blacklist: I tag very long posts as “longpost”. Also, I tend not to use large gifs except in responses to ooc asks, but if I ever use more than one per post, or one that’s especially huge-esque, I will tag “largegifs”.

Please know that the things my muses say and do do not reflect the mun’s personal feelings.

Unless otherwise credited, graphics/gifs/icons used here are mine. Please do not use.

I do not ask for a password to be sent, nor will I send one to you. If I followed you, I have read your rules, and will probably reread them again before interacting. If I break one of your rules, it’s probably because I’ve read 900 rules pages and they’ve run together. Please tell me if that happens, and I will correct my mistake.

I know my rules are long because I’m a wordy fuck (who curses a lot, you’ve been warned), but if you have read this far, thank you very much for taking the time. Know that I appreciate you. :) 

Any time I change or update these rules (or any other info page), I will re-link to them in a new post.

[yukiwrites]

The Mask of the Medusa

Thank you so much for commissioning me, @argoforg! I hope this is to your liking ;D

Summary: Aegis is a villain, but he won’t plot to destroy the world, nor steal the largest diamond in history, no. He will turn his victims to stone, be they superheroes or not, and have a merry way with them, regardless of their choosing.

Warning! This is very n/s/f/w and contains strong language!

Commission info HERE and HERE!

Alexander Nikos, also known as the Masked Medusa. A few years ago, the ancient artifact chose Nikos as its new master, and ever since then, he's been putting its powers to a very good use.

The moment someone gazed upon his mask, he would be able to activate its powers much like the Cursed Woman from the legend and turn them into stone. Not only that, he would be able to, say, manipulate the stonework so as to change the petrified person's position or even un-petrify this or that specific spot oe limb.

Truly a handy bonus for someone like Nikos.

Under the guise of the Mask, he called himself Aegis, the impenetrable shield. No one would be able to get past him; Nor heroes, neither heroines, nor the law. As long as he was the Mask's chosen, he would be able to get his fun regardless of whom he uses his powers on.

What better way to use his newfound gift than to sell it for good money and an added bonus of having his way with the merchandise? The day The Collector's midwayman contacted Nikos had been a turning point in his modest life.

His job was simple: From time to time, he would be contacted by any of the Collector's contacts and receive the name of his targets. He would then have as much time as he was allowed to to devise plans to ambush the heroes or heroines in question, petrify them and wait for the contact to collect the statues as well as their uniforms.

Nikos made sure to include a clause in the contract that would favor his personal fun: After stripping the statues' uniforms, he would get to have his way with them, in however way he wanted to.

The best part? The Collector didn't mind whatever was done to them, as long as they were clean and their uniforms, intact.

Nikos sipped at the coffee, his breath puffing away the smoke. "Fuck, this Destroyer woman's really up to my alley." He licked his lips, turning the file he skimmed to the next page. "Hmmm, and this Analytic girl? I need to lick her pussy at least once. Probably more." He bit his lip so hard it turned white, already closing his eyes to enjoy his imagination.

Putting the mug on the table, he uncrossed his legs, stretching. "If I want to get 'em at once, I'll need to petrify them on the same day. I don't think I'll be able to hold on having only one of them here. Ah, the temptation..." Getting up, he circled the coffee table and headed to his study. "Now, to get info on these babes..." He pulled a secret book, making the bookshelf move into the stone, then sideways, opening a secret pathway to his hideout.

Inside, there were some of his most prized possessions: The Arrow, one of the fastest superheroes to date (using the Mask on him was a pain in the ass, but oh, so worthy... Hmm, his ass...); The Scale, a woman with the skin of reptiles and a snake tail (it felt fitting for them to be together -- the man who possessed the Mask of the Medusa and the woman who looked like the Medusa herself); The Cable, a teen who had total control over copper and its components (luckily, Aegis' mask was made out of something not known to the modern man), among others.

There was also a database, courtesy of the Collector, which contained access to hundreds of thousands of hidden cameras. With these, he would be able to study the pattern of the heroes or heroines he was supposed to catch.

Snapping his fingers and cracking his neck, Nikos sat down in front of the five monitors, all of which flashed with blue lights over a large keyboard. "I can't wait to fuck you two." He licked his lips once more, getting to work.

Planning was usually way different than acting on the plan. He had to be prepared for the unexpected, though from the looks of it, The Analytic and The Destroyer would be easy targets.

The Analytic's powers consisted on detecting other heroes' super-powers, as well as sensing their presence. She was a key member of a blah-blah-blah quartet, which didn't interest Nikos at the moment. She often worked with them, yes, but since she never entered the battlefield by herself and always used long-range comms to talk with her partners, ambushing her wouldn't be hard.

Besides, her power had a weakness: it didn't detect magical artifacts. Nikos would be able to turn her to stone from behind if his Mask didn't require eye contact.

Also, might he note on her appearance? She had a dynamite body and long purple hair she never cared to tie up in a ponytail… It looked perfect to pull during more FUN and intimate times, that was for sure. Nikos couldn’t wait to taste her.

The Destroyer? Despite her showy name, she had the usual super-strength power, though she made sure to build up her body accordingly: her arm and leg muscles were the size of watermelons. Also, she didn't fashion a mask, so finding her not-so-secret identity wasn't hard. Ambushing her would be the easiest part of the job, though he would need to make sure to avoid any direct contact.

He didn't have any superpower, after all.

After a few days of planning, Aegis set to action: and, by god, how much hotter they were in person. Analytic's uniform? It was of a bright purple and red, squeaky glued on her skin, emphasizing her curves and big as fuck tits. "GOD, they're amazing." He groaned in almost physical pain once she was petrified, groping her immediately.

Manipulating the stone, he felt their softness and had to stop himself from rubbing his dick all over her while still on the clock. "Ohh, yes, I'm gonna have so much fun with you tonight." He took the horrified statue, carrying her back to the black SUV he used when in action.

His erection was still going on strong by the time he drove to the Destroyer's location, and seeing her in person through the car's glass made him do a pit-stop to masturbate. "Tonight's gonna be a night to remember."

The Destroyer's uniform looked like gym clothes, making one able to see her stomach muscles as well as her entire beefy arms. Her legs, oh, her legs... They were so thick Nikos wanted to fuck her thigh gap instead of her pussy.

Which was what he was going to do, but after taking pain meds. Seeing his Medusa Mask instantly activated The Destroyer's fight or flight reflexes, making her lunge herself at him. He turned her into stone right away, yes, but was still there to cushion her fall.

He wasn't as young as he'd like, but by Medusa he was having the time of his life, pain or no pain.

Taking the statues home, he had to hold himself back so as not to jump on them right away. He had to take pictures of their preys as well as their uniforms and send them to the Collector. Only after receiving his confirmation (which usually happened within 5 minutes; that man's associates apparently never slept) Nikos would be able to strip and finally have his way with the statues.

Their horrified expressions, signature of the Mask, always turned him on to no end. Their open mouths, their frowns of sheer terror... How powerless they were to go against him! They could only scream in their eternalized state, his power and will the only thing that could ever bring them back. And that was only during this strict window of time -- after the Collector took them, they would be out of his reach, and would be forever remembered as the statues they became.

Nikos could never get enough of this post-work high. Alleged 'super'-heroes, down there, begging him to turn them back; powerless against his might. Their bodies at his disposal as he manipulated them however he wanted.

The 'ding' from the Collector's associate rang after what it seemed to be an eternity. 

Have fun with them. Send pictures this time. The message read.

Get ready for a feast. Nikos replied, already licking his lips.

He took the statues, one at the time, to a special bedroom he kept all of his toys. He sometimes liked to dress the statues with skimpy Dominatrix outfits or even tie them up so they'd be even more at his mercy.

However, that night, he was going to purely relish on those women's natural assets.

Carefully, he took out the Destroyer's uniform -- it was much harder than the Analytic's because of how her body was built. Nevertheless, he couldn't wait and snacked on her nipples -- surprisingly small for a woman of her height.

He tasted her skin by undoing the stone only around her chest, relishing on how hard the nipples became. "You whore, look at how your body's responding to me, and I barely did anything! Are you a virgin, maybe? Fuck, if you are, I won't be satisfied with only your thigh gap."

Licking down her body, Nikos positioned her so her legs would be touching one another, so only the thigh gap could be seen.

By Medusa, what a small and adorable gap it was! Since her legs were so thick, only a small triangle could be seen through them, making Nikos' body clamor to feel it.

Promptly lying her down, Nikos freed his erection, rubbing the skin up and down so as to stimulate himself. He gurgled a laugh, looking up at Analytic, who watched everything in her silent horror. "You don't know how much I need to fuck your tits, Ana." He nicknamed her, despite knowing her true name. Using something she felt powerful about, her superhero name, and diminishing it to fit his own fantasies would NEVER get old.

He rubbed himself against the Destroyer, now Dest, never getting enough of how the Mask's stone felt over his dick. He licked Dest's bare nipples, the taste of salt and sweat making him roll his eyes in pleasure.

But he wanted more. He wanted to taste something even better.

Holding his erection in place, Nikos got on his feet so as to grab Ana and put her on a bridge position, her legs spread out right in front of his face, over Dest's body on the floor.

Nikos then un-petrified her vulva only, the pink contrasting with the grey. He inadvertently opened his mouth, ready to have a snack. He breathed heavily, once again rubbing his dick on Dest, slightly licking Ana's clit.

"Fuuuuck," he cursed, quickly biting and sucking on Ana's labia. "You washed yourself JUST for me, didn'tcha, Ana? You taste so, hmmm, good. Oh, fuck." He inserted his tongue into her vagina, moving his hips back and forth over Dest's thigh gap -- it was really tight.

Nothing that he couldn't circle around, though. He always had lube on him, so he didn't even need to stop sucking on Ana's pussy to squeeze lube on Dest's gap, immediately placing his dick in place.

"Gg-rahh..." He bemoaned, gasping for breath without realizing how wet Ana's vagina had become. He pushed even further, inserting his entire erection through Dest's gap. "You're DEFINITELY a virgin, you bitch. I'm so gonna fuck you later." He huffed, struggling to go in and out.

He didn't care to please Ana, no, but it seemed as though her pussy liked it so much, it started to pulsate before letting out a squirt. "Wh- fuck! You whore, you really liked this, huh?" He blinked, feeling her fluids dripping down his cheek to Dest's chest.

With a smirk, he licked what fluid he could from Dest, quickly going back up to Ana, forgetting to 'penetrate'.

The moment he did, he was washed over by a wave of pleasure, closing his eyes to accelerate his movements. All the while sucking Ana so hard he could notice how her vulva swelled up in pleasure. God, he wanted to fuck her, too.

He's gonna need two dicks at this rate!

Or rather, he'll need to ask for more time to savor these unexpectedly delicious acquisitions before handing them to the Collector. He knew he would want to fuck Dest senseless -- virgins were always the best to, after all.

And Ana? With her veteran pussy and out-of-the-charts reactions? He only wish he could hear their voices under their screams! Ahh, he had the best job of the world.

[sailorgreywolf-legacy]

Legacy - Chapter 30

Mexico looked down at America’s hand, which was holding onto his thigh possessively. America spoke, more to himself than to Mexico “That bastard. I swear I should hurt him for this.” Mexico sighed, “This is the part where I remind you that all this happened centuries ago. I’m the only one who’s allowed to hold grudges for hundreds of years.” America moved his hand even farther up Mexico’s thigh. He looked concerned “So, did he come back that night?” The other laughed and put his hand on America’s “Of course not. I didn’t see him again until the next day. As usual, he apologized for losing his temper, promised he would wait for my consent, and we continued the dance.” America growled “Fucking pedophile. He took advantage of you.” Mexico didn’t have any love for Spain, but he still felt the need to defend him “He isn’t a pedophile. I was a teen, at that time it was perfectly acceptable. Had I been consenting, there would have been nothing wrong with us sleeping together.” The other looked down for a second, obviously not happy with being corrected. Then he changed the subject “Well, your work paid off. I got your letter.” _________________________________________________________________________________________

America looked around to make sure he wasn’t forgetting anything important. Packing up the winter camp had been quite a production, but the new found discipline had made it so the army was able to reform into marching condition very quickly. Alfred actually felt like he was the one holding up the progress. There was something that had not ceased to bother him, and that was Mexico. He had received weapons from Spain, which meant that France must have talked to Spain. But, as far as he could tell, France had failed to give his letter to Mexico. America knew he should have expected as much from France. He had probably seen Mexico and decided that he didn’t need the American boy as competition. He turned around one more time and decided that he truly wasn’t forgetting anything. He walked out of the stark building, which was now empty.

It was then that a man, not wearing the uniform of the colonial militia, walked up to him. In another second, the mortal had a gun to his head. The one holding the gun was a colonial solider, the very same Virginian that America had talked to about letters. The solider said “I recognize Spanish colors. What do you want? In 5 words or less.” The unknown messenger glared at the Virginian before looking back at America “Mexico sends his regards.” America’s heart leapt into his throat, Mexico actually got the letter. Better yet, he actually read it. He addressed the solider “That’s enough, Lee. Let him go.” The man obeyed, although he looked like he didn’t quite trust the Spanish man. Once the gun was lowered, the messenger produced a letter, which was neatly folded and sealed. He handed it to America, saying as he did so, “I was instructed to give this to you and only you. You can trust that Spain knows nothing of this letter, or yours.” America took the letter silently and stared at it.

He expected it to vanish as soon as someone pinched him. At this point, it could be a rejection and he wouldn’t care. Mexico had taken the time to put pen to paper and write to him, and that was enough for America. He waited until the other two men walked away. He finally broke the wax seal and unfolded the letter. The first few lines made America feel lightheaded. It read “I have already forgiven you. I forgave you long ago. Don’t worry yourself over my situation when your own is so critical.”

He was forgiven. Everything he had been hoping for came true. He read the rest of the letter as quickly as humanly possible. He skipped over the little words like “a” and “the” in an attempt to absorb the letter more quickly. It wasn’t flowery or sentimental. The language was to the point and relatively brusque, it wasn’t hard to imagine Mexico speaking the words in his usual fashion. But, the message couldn’t be clearer: Mexico didn’t hate him; rather he wished America the best of luck in winning the revolution. The last words were, even with the complete lack of sentiment, the sweetest things America had ever read “I will think of you Alfred, enough for the both of us. You need not think of me. You have a war to win, now go and win it.”

After he finished reading the actual words, America found himself staring at the handwriting. It had a kind of elegance to it, but there was a restrained passion in the flourish at the end of each word. He ran his finger over the words; they left grooves in the paper where they had been written. America tried to imagine Mexico sitting down and writing this letter. In his imagination, Mexico was wearing a white undershirt and very tight black trousers. His black hair was held back in a ponytail. He also, for some reason had a smear of black ink across his cheek, which made him look amazingly sexy. America shook his head and the vision disappeared. The letter was still in his hand, much to his surprise. He had expected it to vanish.

Once the shock began to fade, America felt empowered. If he could get Mexico to write to him just through the force of his words, he could defeat England easily in battle. He folded the letter back up and put it in his pocket. He was going to hold onto this letter, most likely, until the day he died, which, considering the state of his army, wouldn’t be any time soon. He looked up at the horizon, which seemed to have turned incredibly blue, and said, to no one in particular “I’m going to go win my freedom.” _________________________________________________________________________________________

It had been a while since Spain and Mexico had their confrontation, and everything had returned to normal. Or at the very least, everything had returned to as normal as it had been before. It had been easier to spend more and more time with Puerto Rico. She was a soothing person to be around; she was uncomplicated and sweet. After all the drama and political scheming, Mexico was glad to have a little less complication. The only irksome thing was that Puerto Rico had started talking about wedding plans. Mexico didn’t want to be married for many reasons, most prominent among them being that he didn’t want to feel even guiltier about his infidelity. It was almost comforting to know that Spain was never going to actually let them be married. All the same, days spent with Catalina were days that Mexico barely saw Spain aside from the daily dinner, and even that had become awkwardly quiet.

It was a lovely morning in fall and Mexico could not stand being cooped up inside. Puerto Rico actually was the one to suggest they both go for a ride to enjoy the weather. It was a somewhat unspoken reason that they both wanted to get away from prying eyes. Colombia seemed to always walk in on them, and Mexico knew exactly why. Colombia was attempting to prevent any feeling of intimacy by making it feel like it was impossible to get a private moment. The time outside would give them solitude.

He met her in the front hall of the house. Her long hair was held back in a loose braid. She was dressed in a light dress, with a corset around her waist, in short, women’s riding clothes. He was dressed relatively lightly as well, as was fit for a casual occasion. He walked up to her with a smile, “Good morning, Cat. You look beautiful.” She blushed and looked down modestly. He walked forward a few more steps and put his hand softly under her chin and tilted it back up. Their eyes met and they both smiled at the same time. He smiled sweetly, an expression that was matched by Puerto Rico, and he said “You always look beautiful.” She replied “You would say that. You see me through biased eyes.” He could tell that this was false modesty, as was befitting a catholic girl, but he replied to it accordingly “I’m not blinded by love. Everyone can see how lovely you are. I’m just lucky you are mine to love.” She leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the cheek “You’re sweet to me. Shall we go? I had one of the servants prepare a picnic for us.” Mexico nodded and took her hand.

The horses were waiting outside, where they were already prepared. Philippines handed Mexico his reigns wordlessly. He could tell from her glare that she didn’t approve of him spending this time with his fiancé. However, he ignored it. It was not her opinion that mattered in regard to his love life. He mounted his horse, which Philippines had miraculously been able to saddle. With a flick of the reigns, Mexico’s stallion took off at full speed. Mexico greatly disliked riding slowly; it was like restraining the horse’s natural potential. Puerto Rico kept up easily. It was not lady like, but she understood that she needed to keep up with her fiancé.

The horses eventually slowed down as they tired. With the speed they were riding, they reached an open clearing, surrounded on one side by trees. At this point they both stopped. Mexico dismounted first and walked over to his fiancé’s horse. He helped her down by putting his hands on her waist and lifting her down. Once she was on the ground, she smiled up at him and said “You’re such a gentleman, Alejandro.” He leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the lips before saying “Only for you my love.” She responded “Then I am a fortunate woman.” She returned his kiss more passionately. For a couple moments, there was nothing but the feeling of her lips against his. When they finally broke apart, Mexico couldn’t help but smile.

He wished life was really this simple. He profoundly wished he could tell Puerto Rico everything about his life, all the secrets he was keeping, but he couldn’t because she would not understand his hate. In the moment, he was stuck between two feelings. He wanted this simplicity and sweetness, but the need for vengeance kept him from being able to give his whole heart to her. She spoke “We should unpack the things and then we can talk.”

They set up the picnic under a tree so that they were protected from the sun. Although it was a nice day, the warm weather was a bit uncomfortable in direct sunlight. At first the conversation was light, mostly the gossip around the court. She mentioned lightly “I heard one of your couriers met a rather unfortunate end recently.” Mexico knew exactly who she was talking about. He couldn’t abide traitors within his own ranks, especially with so much at stake. He responded “It is sad, but some men should pick their bar fights more carefully.” That was not strictly true, but it was close enough. The man had died in a bar, but Mexico had personally been there. It had not been a fight; it had simply been a knife between the ribs. Puerto Rico didn’t see the incident as anything more than an unfortunate accident, which was the way it should be. From there, the conversation lapsed back into light discussion.

However, eventually Puerto Rico brought up something that seemed to be bothering her deeply “Alejandro, do you still love me?” He was understandably shocked “Of course I do, why would you ask me such a thing?” To emphasize the sincerity of his statement, Mexico put his hand softly on her cheek. Puerto Rico looked down for a second, as though looking for the right words to state her observation. She finally looked back at him and said, her voice relatively measured, “I feel that you are slipping away from me. When we first met, you looked at me with so much lust and passion that it was almost frightening. But now, I don’t see any of it. It is like I have been replaced by some greater passion, I know not what. I fear that if I do not reach out to you soon, I will lose you.” Mexico should have figured as much, Puerto Rico was seeing that he was not committed to the relationship. He couldn’t tell her why though, because that would require telling her about his revolution.

He came up with a response that was somewhat close to the truth, “Cat, I love you; I always have and always will. Partially, I have learned to temper my passions because I knew it scared you. I have also been distracted by recent events in the Americas. The revolution in the English colonies is close to my Northern border.” She seemed to be studying his eyes to see if the words were genuine, or perhaps she was looking for some spark of passion. Whatever she seemed to see in his eyes comforted her. She matched his hand on her cheek by putting her hand on his, “Don’t shut me out. Let me be a balm for your worry. I will do anything to make you happy.” She took his hand from her cheek and moved it to her thigh, which was covered in only light cloth. She repeated, her dark brown eyes looking directly into his, “Anything at all that would make you happy.” She moved his hand farther up her thigh.

Mexico was quick to stop that “You do not need to use your body to make me happy.” He pulled his hand away, “Sin is not the answer. We are not yet married, to consummate before marriage is a sin.” She sighed and took a small sip of wine “We are going to be married, so does the time matter? Our engagement is never going to be annulled. If this will rekindle your passion for me, I will do it.” Mexico was not as against sinning as he was saying, his affair with Brazil proved that. But, although he did feel lust towards Puerto Rico, he wanted her to be pure. She was one of the few truly innocent people in his life, and he didn’t want to corrupt that innocence. He also knew that when the revolution came, their engagement would be broken. If she was not a virgin at that time, then she would eternally hate him for his deceit. He responded again “You don’t need to, Cat. All I need you to do is be there for me when I am in need of a sympathetic ear.” She nodded and looked slightly relieved. Mexico touched her cheek again and ran his hand lightly down her face and neck. He leaned in again and kissed her lips again. His hands were more brazen now to show his passion. He let them roam over her chest. She pulled herself closer, using one of her hands around his neck. They were dangerously close to both losing control, but it didn’t matter.

The moment was broken by the sound of someone clearing their throat behind him. Mexico broke the kiss to turn around. A mortal messenger was standing behind him, looking at the two of them with a mix a fascination and envy. Mexico addressed him “I did specifically state that I did not want to be disturbed today. This better be very important.” The man spoke “Spain has summoned you. He said you must return at once. It is urgent.” The Aztec boy swore under his breathe, but he knew that he needed to heed the order. He looked at Puerto Rico and said “I’m sorry; I do not want to abandon you.” She responded “You have your duties, I can wait for you.” Mexico nodded and stood up. _________________________________________________________________________________________

The ride back was short, but it gave him time to think about things. He had no idea what could be so urgent, but summons from Spain were very rarely good. He reached the house and quickly found Spain in one of the larger rooms with Peru, Colombia, Bolivia, Chile, and Venezuela, the last of whom had come to Spain at the same time Mexico had. It must be a truly important matter if all of the big colonies were here to talk about it. Spain seemed exceptionally agitated; he was pacing rapidly. Once he had noticed Mexico’s presence, he said with a sweeping gesture “Good, everyone is here. You should all sit; I have a lot to say.”

Venezuela sat in the only available armchair. Predictably, Bolivia, Chile, and Peru all sat together on the biggest available couch. This left Mexico to sit with Colombia on a rather small couch. The other glanced suggestively at Mexico, who tried his best to ignore how provocative Colombia was being. Spain didn’t pay attention to the seating arrangements, which was lucky. Instead, he started speaking at once “I have received a letter from France. The 13 colonies have won the war for independence. He is now one country and he is calling himself the United States of America.” Everyone, with the exception of Chile, started talking at once, mostly to each other. Colombia turned to Mexico and said simply “So it is possible.” The Aztec boy responded “Not for anyone else, now Europe is on high alert.”

Spain quickly took control of the conversation, “Quiet, everyone. I am aware of how shocking this is. No one thought an upstart like him would ever be able to win. But I need to stress to you all that I am not England. We need to stand strong as an empire, not fracture. I will not tolerate revolution in my empire.” Mexico understood why Spain was resorting to bluster; revolution could spread now that it was proven to work. Spain, of all people, was scared of losing his empire. It was the only thing that had ever brought him prestige, and he couldn’t lose that. Spain continued to talk, “You are all strictly forbidden from communicating with the United States in any way. I will not have him corrupting any of you. If he attempts contact, I want to know at once.” He finally stopped pacing and looked directly at Mexico, “Alejandro, I want you to be especially cautious. Alfred has shown interest in you.” Colombia scoffed “Well that figures. Alejandro does seem to attract eyes.” Mexico glanced over at him. Colombia looked completely and utterly jealous. Spain concluded “That is all. Remember that revolution is the worst kind of sin, and god will not save your soul after I break your body. You are all mine, and that is not going to change, not now or ever at any point in the future.”

[wyldlittledog]

The Rules

THE RULES

This blog is 18+ (please do not follow or interact if you’re underage). Mun is 30+. Please be honest about your age.

No godmodding. There is always some grey area. I’ll tell you if you cross my line, and please do the same for me. If it continues to be a problem after that, I will probably drop our threads.

Respect. It goes both ways. I try to be nice and approachable, and expect the same. Ooc homophobia, biphobia, transphobia, racism, sexism, ableism, and the like will get you unfollowed and possibly blocked. Any of those things IC will be evaluated case by case, because while we are not our muses, I also don’t wanna see hate constantly IC. That sort of thing seems like a red flag to me, tbh.

Following: I am selective about following and like a clean dash. I rarely follow non-rp blogs. If you’re an rp blog and I’ve followed, I want to rp with you. I can be shy, though, and sometimes I may not have a clear idea how to start stuff with your character. If we haven’t interacted at all after a couple weeks, I will likely unfollow for my own sanity. I will not follow any rp blogs that do not have their age listed (either specifically, or a general “18+”, “21+”, etc.). Porn blogs that follow me are ALWAYS blocked.

I tend to write para/multi-para rp. 2-4 paragraphs is the sweet spot for me. Short stuff and one liners often get dropped without notice if they don’t develop into more. You don’t have to match my lengths, but at least put in the effort to give me something to respond to, and if you’re consistently replying to my multi para replies with a line or two, I’ll likely drop the thread.

Starters: If you ask for a starter or tell me it’s okay to write you a starter, please commit to at least trying to reply a few times. Some threads take time to “warm up” and click and start running smoothly. If my starter just doesn’t work for you at all, please talk to me about it, and I am happy to edit. If I notice I’ve been writing starters for you that are consistently ignored or rarely replied to, I will stop writing starters for you.

If you are not roleplaying with me on a given thread, please don’t reblog it, but feel free to hit like if you’re enjoying reading it, or even comment! Do not reblog personal/ooc posts or graphics I’ve made specifically for this blog’s use.

Discord is available for MUTUALS for both ooc chat and ic rp @ wyldlittledog#6384. Please tell me who you are, if it’s not obvious. I don’t bite, but reserve the right to block anyone (there and here) if I become uncomfortable or start feeling harassed.

I don’t require formatting or icons for interaction. It’s all about the writing at the end of the day. I personally like making/using icons/graphics, but I may not every time.

No OOC drama on the dash. Most hate/drama sent to asks will be deleted. If I ever feel I need to respond to hate/drama sent directly to me in my ask box, it will be tagged “wank”. Please blacklist accordingly, if you wish.

Shipping: 1) I ship chemistry. Even if you write a muse that has a canon ship with mine (Agron or Castus), I will likely want to write at least a little with you before fully committing to shipping. 2) Nasir is gay. I am not comfortable changing his canon sexuality just to open up the possibility of more ships. 3) Please tell me if you’re interested in shipping, otherwise I may assume Nasir’s canon relationship with Agron in our threads. Telling me you’re interested doesn’t mean we’ll jump right into it, but it let’s me know to start our thread in such a way as to allow for the possibility. 4) I rarely take exclusives. Any exclusive ships are listed as such on my ships page. If you are interested in becoming exclusive with Nasir, here’s a handy guide to how that works.  5) If you send me a shippy/smutty meme and we’ve never shipped our character or discussed it, be prepared for my muse to respond in a way that might not be positive, or not at all.

Smut: I like writing smut, but only once muses are muns are comfortable with each other. How long that takes will vary. Do not expect Nasir to be DTF in our first thread.

I try to cut posts. Exceptions to this: if I am on mobile and I get excited and need to reply RIGHT THIS SECOND, or if the thread involves three or more muses (I like to reread, and for ease of rereading, all replies after my last one will be reblogged with my new reply, if possible). Sometimes I reblog asks for ease of rereading a thread on my blog later. I will always cut it the next reply, if you don’t first. (If this is really an issue for you, tell me and I won’t do it on the threads I have with you.)

I will try to remember to tag “nsfw”, and for triggers. “tw: death”, “tw: violence”, etc. If I forget one or there’s one I’m not tagging that you think I should be, please message me! And if you guys could, please tag for “cancer” for me. I may not always need this, but it’s appreciated for now. 

There is a ton of potential triggers in Nasir’s canon verse (which often bleeds into his other verses), and content that is problematic. This includes slavery, rape, extreme violence and torture, among other things, and will be tagged. Please be aware of this, and know that the things Nasir says and does do not usually reflect the mun’s personal feelings. Rape and nsfw content concerning underage muses will never be written in detail, but because it is a large part of Nasir’s canon history and affected him and several of his close friends deeply, it will come up.

Unless otherwise credited noted, graphics/gifs used here are mine. Please do not use without credit to this blog. If you see something here that’s yours and I didn’t know who to credit, shoot me a message and I will credit you and/or remove the content if you request!

I know my rules are long because I’m a wordy fuck, but if you have read this far, thank you very much for taking the time. Know that I appreciate you. :)

Any time I change or update these rules (or any other info page), I will re-link to them in a new post.

[dem-khuya]

03042019:1453

good afternoon. i just finished eating my sandwich and now i’m sitting at my university’s cafe, taking a quick break before heading back.

i really liked being able to read my past entries, to reflect on what i was thinking at the time. sometimes i wrote very impulsively, specifically when i’m in a lot of pain, so those entries aren’t like, exactly useful lol. but the other stuff was interesting. i was surprised that i was actually good at putting together what i was thinking and having a point to it, instead of writing a huge mass of thoughts without head or tail (無頭無尾).

anyway, there’s two people i would like to talk about today and they happen to be the people i love. first off it’s rhys. he’s almost six (his birthday is may 19th) and lately i haven’t been spending a lot of time at home, so whenever my parents come to visit, he clings to me so tight. yesterday when we were walking to the restaurant, he hung onto my leg as we crossed the street. i really miss him. i’m planning to drive him to the park when i get home for spring break and play with him there. i feel like his childhood is so brief and this pure love that he has for me isn’t going to last much longer...that is, he will learn to resent me, learn to be angry at me...that sort of thing makes me sad, but i would like to make him as happy as i can, while i can, and while it is so easy to. he is still at an age where i can give him the world.

god...six years old...could you believe how big that is? so big. and yet he still remembers things from when he was three. i love this boy so much that i could pull my heart out for him!

on the other hand,earlier, while i was eating my sandwich (which was great thanks for asking) i wanted to reread through lhiftya’s tumblr blog again. when i was still in high school i did it because i wanted to understand her better and, to some extent the reason is still similar, but since it’s been such a long time since she updated it, it’s just something that i reread every now and again to understand who she was then and what she was feeling in the past. but i got to the part where she wrote about how much she really loved her friend irene and it made me sad so i closed out (pensive face)

hah...i’m such a bad person.

i remember a few days ago when i was talking to lhiftya and i said something about my mama being jealous, and lhiftya said she was a jealous person too, while i said that i wasn’t. i just get hurt. but then lhiftya said well maybe you just have never been jealous before! and i wondered about that...have i ever felt jealous before? maybe not...or maybe i have, and i am just too shameful to admit it.

i think i have, maybe, back when i was still in high school and i first met lhiftya and i wanted to be close to her, but saw how much she already loved irene and how close the two of them were already. but i don’t know if that exactly is envy. my mother is envious and the way that i see it manifest is hateful, resentful, almost...when i was jealous, i think i was mostly hurt, but i kept it to myself or cried about it to someone. but i didn’t really resent either of them for it. ok sometimes i was mad at irene because she made a big show about how close they were in front of me! i don’t know irene that well but she is, what, six or seven years older than me, who flexes like that to a fucking 17 year old...come on.

anyway.

even nowadays, during the occasional moment when lhiftya mentions irene i get a little sad but i know for lhiftya it is sad for her too, more than it is for me. i know they were childhood friends and were really close before they had the falling out. when i think about that falling out i still get mad...with how kind and sweet and loving and wise lhiftya is i don’t understand how someone like irene could...i don’t know. it’s not my issue.

i wonder if i would have opened myself up if she were still friends with irene though? i remember back then i’d shut myself off to her frequently because i always felt like i would never be as close to her as she was with irene. i liked to draw my own boundaries. i remember when i was close friends with alex, i knew that alex and edvin had grown up together and had a bond that i never would with either of them, and even when i had a crush on alex, i was just sad about that closeness, never jealous, never wanting to be in edvin’s place. i knew that there were things they could share with one another that they wouldn’t with me and knowing that, i acted accordingly. even when it sometimes made me sad.

but i think with lhiftya it wasn’t that easy. for a long time i couldn’t tell what i meant to her, and when i loved her it was very painful, so closing parts of myself off from her was the only way that i could handle it. but she always wanted to be closer. that was something i had never dealt with before. most people don’t exactly want to get to know me that well, or at least, don’t make an active effort the way that she did and does still. but i remember then, letting her in was always wonderful in the moment, but then something little would always remind me of how much she loved irene, and i would close myself off again. and because i did that, i ended up hurting her too. i didn’t have the courage to say that seeing her with irene made me sad, because i knew, deep down, it was such a mean and baseless thing to say. who was i to do that, when i had only known her for a fraction of how long she had known irene?

i remember i mentioned it once, and it hurt her. i still remember what she said too—“is that what you think of me?” i don’t really remember what we said after that, or even how we made up. but i do remember her saying that. i remember too, what led up to us to stop talking for a year. i remember it because we stopped talking the week that my sister got married. she had a falling out with irene in march, and the two of us were trying to make a new forum to write on but her depression cycles, as well as the falling out with irene, made her fade in and out again, and that hurt me too. i was such an easily hurt person then. i think it still had to do with the fact that i didn’t know where i was in her heart—or maybe, i was suspicious of it. which was a cruel thing to be to someone who was in pain. i should have been better. and then the day before my family left for my sister’s wedding, she asked if i ever hated her. i remember, at the time, thinking the question was unbearable. i wanted to say no, i never did. but being who i was, i remembered all these things that shouldn’t have mattered...

i think maybe that’s what it was then, jealousy, envy. i was jealous of irene because i thought, do you see how much lhiftya loves you, that even when you are no longer together she has room in her heart for you, so much room that i didn’t know where i was supposed to be? and in turn i resented lhiftya too. because i did not belong in that room. that was the way that i saw it then.

so i didn’t answer her. for the whole week. i dressed up and went to my sister’s wedding and tried hard not to think about anything. on the way back i did respond. seven days after i received the message. is that not cruel?

i said to her, no, i never hated her. but the damage had already been done. she said a lot of things...a lot of them i deserved. one that i’ll remember for a long time was when she asked if i wanted her to die. i don’t even remember what i said except no, please don’t say that. i think i was sort of pathetic through the whole thing. i loved her too much to say anything, but at the same time, it was a love that hurt me too much to say something when i should have.

and then we stopped talking. i remember the last thing i did was that i downloaded some app that would let me delete every message i’d sent to her in the past week. so i did that. i might have deleted more too, i don’t really remember.

i think sometimes i got desperate. maybe a month or two in i think i sent her messages on skype, but i think, at that point, she didn’t even want to deal with me. she was having it so hard already. afterwards i think i deleted her from my skype because seeing her image there and knowing that she was unreachable was too painful for me.

i wish that i had been a bigger person then. i wish that i could have seen past myself, my selfish feelings, and have been there when she needed it. in that year, i had started university and she had gotten married. i should have been there for that. i should have been there for a lot of things. that is something else i don’t think i could forgive myself for. that whole year, she said to me, was painful. but it had been my fault. i was the reason that we had to suffer like that, that she had to suffer like that, for a whole year. if only i had said the right thing, if only...

but i had been young then, too. i had just turned eighteen when all of that happened, and i had never loved anyone before, at least, i had never loved anyone the way that i loved lhiftya. i didn’t know how to express to her what i had felt. i know that she apologized to me before, for being complicit in the way that she and irene had kept me removed from their (and resultantly her) world, but for some reason, i felt that the apology wasn’t enough. i didn’t have the capacity to forgive her. for me forgiveness is such a hard thing to come by, and at the time, i should have said that to her. i should have told her, i understand that you apologized and i accept your apology, but i need time to think things over. instead, being the coward that i was, i said nothing.

and it hurt her, all the nothing that i said. it was such...a deep hurt, too.

why am i thinking about all of this all of a sudden? something something have i ever been jealous before...but also, this is the first time i have been able to look back and see everything, i think, for what it was instead of just what i’d felt. it’s hard to admit but when we started talking again the october of my sophomore year, even when we clicked almost instantly, i was still doing that. the closing myself off part. one part because the pain from her words was still fresh, another part because i didn’t know if i was going to get hurt again. but this time we are much more open with one another. and i see that she tries so hard every day, for me, for herself too, and it inspires me to do the same, to be a better person, a better lover, a better friend.

where would we be if she did not reach out to me on instagram that day? but also, where would we be if i had been a better person, and had just responded to her when she needed it, been there when she needed it, forgiven her because she deserved it? this is what surprises me most. before it used to be remembering what she had said to me before we stopped talking that made me cry but now i’m thinking about how lonely she was for that year, how much she had gone through, how much pain i had inflicted on her by not being available when all she wanted was me. there. i regret that most. i understand that i was young and my pain was justified but...if i had just been bigger, if i had just been better and stronger and kinder...through my actions i had cut...i have cut our relationship one year short. that is one year more with lhiftya that i threw away.

and over what? was it worth it? no, it wasn’t. maybe it was necessary to have the relationship that we do today but what if it wasn’t? where would we be then?

one of my favorite passages from richard siken’s poetry is this:

Dear Forgiveness, you know that recently

we have had our difficulties and there are many things

I want to ask you.

I tried that one time, in high school, second lunch, and then again,

years later, in the chlorinated pool.

I am still talking to you about help. I still do not have

these luxuries.

i like most that siken talks to forgiveness like a person, but i also like the resentment too. i have never had a good relationship with forgiveness and i still don’t. i wonder if it is a result of trauma, or maybe it is because i inherited that part of myself from my mother. maybe it is that intergenerational trauma i keep reading about. in any case, it was this incapability to forgive lhiftya, and my fear of saying it out loud, that led us to that white noise of a year. i am too embarrased to say how long it took, like really took, for me to really look past this and forgive her. a long time, let’s say. this is the first time that i was able to really say it and see things more objectively and i’m glad. i’m also not afraid anymore, of being hurt by lhiftya, or being hurt by how much i love her, and i’m glad for that too. i am more open with her, and i let her into my heart too. sometimes i wonder if it is too much, but i think, i will never love anyone the way that i love her, and i decide that it is better this way, to love her completely, to risk the very, very small chance that i will be hurt by letting her in as close to me as possible. so maybe that is love for me—deciding whether or not i minded being hurt by someone.

i just wish these realizations had come sooner...for me, for her, for us both. i wish that forgiveness was not a long winded street for me.

i hope that i can continue to be a better person for lhiftya. no...i promise that i will try to be a better person...i promise that i will be a better person for her. even if it takes a long time, i’ll do it for her. she deserves at least that much.

[diythelifeyoucrave]

Now i get it...

Saturday night live did a skit a few weeks ago that touched upon the “difficulty” of people having a discussion about the current state of sexual harassment/sexual assault/objectification/#metoo which ultimately played out into the joke being that you just don’t talk about it and instead have an internal discussion in your head. The thing is that i would love to have a conversation about it, hell bring on an argument so that at least there is discourse and debate and people are freely speaking to experience and want moving forward.There is the absolute need for outrage, but at a point outrage needs to evolve to something greater, something tangible, because right now the outrage seems to have a shelf life and nothing more. 

And now to the reason for this...I know that the prevailing direction is that when a woman makes a generalization of what “men” must do, collective of all men, the immediate thing is not for us (men) to individually claim that we are not that “man” and minimize the statement but to just let the message breathe. BUT...BUT...BUT, sometimes you read something that speaks to what men need to do, and yet the underlying story isnt about a vision for a better man, or a better society, or male/female dynamic and reads more like this is what men need to do/be/become to better match for that particular woman and her preference and at that point it is no longer a discussion about Gender/sex but a window to a needed therapy session. 

Such is my reaction to an article i read this morning in the Washington Post Entitled “We all want good sex. It’s time for men to do their part” by Shannon Lell.  Http://flip.it/5YHy-q . Here are some line from it that struck me.

“As a middle -aged, single, heterosexual, femininst living through this volatile time, when relationship norms are unclear and constantly shifting, the divide between men and women has never felt so wide. And i have never been so lonely. Men can’t seem to get it right, even when they publicly shout their support for women. Case in point: Aziz Ansari”

- First thought...wow, any more labels you want to throw in there for good measure? Sounds like for all that you are simple conversation is a struggle here, and for all that can be said about Aziz Ansari, someone im sure neither of us know...what is known is that his date was not assaulted nor harassed. At best she was not given the respect she thought she was owed, nor did she seem to demand that level of respect if she felt disrespected. Hindsight of a bad hookup its not a litmus test.

“In my experience, the days of using sex appeal to begin a relationship are over. Because if that’s all there is, its dehumanizing. it leads to shallow intimacy, being objectification or coercion.”

- Translation...YOUR days of using sex appeal are over... it may not work for you anymore, and that is okay, but the rest of the world is not responsible for your personal shift. If sex appeal is dehumanizing...then it sounds like there is a disconnect with how you relate to your own sex appeal which isnt to say that unwanted attention is any less unwanted, but you are talking about the context of a relationship...so sex is either a part of your relationship or not, if it is, why then can that not be something to celebrate along with everything else in a relationship?

“I dont need a man to ask permission for every move he makes. We shouldn’t let the battle cry of consent translate into boring sex. Sometimes spontaneity is what makes sex passionate, particularly sex with someone you don’t know well. But men, please check your entitlement at the door. Intentions are important, and everyone’s intentions during sex should be of care, healing, and relief, not of personal appetite and blind conquest.”

- Yes i can see how someone playing 21 questions is a buzzkill, UNLESS that is some kind of mutually enjoyed foreplay. But this line of thought is all over the place because in one moment we are addressing passion and people you “don’t know well” and the next you are talking about intention being about healing, and relief and not about personal appetite!. SEX IS NOT A SOCIAL CONSTRUCT!. THERE ARE NO ESTABLISHED NORMS OF SEX THAT EVERYONE MUST ADHERE TO...aside that it be consensual. To be totally honest I have never thought of sex as ever being healing or about relief. I’ve never wanted to cum or looked at a partner and though she is ideal for my relief. As for entitlement, i am lost here, but also lost as to what the author then sees as passionate sex for everyone, because it sounds a lot like its supposed to be somewhat lustful, but not too lustful, and not about the excitement of who you are having sex with, and that if we could all maybe pray over it first that would be ideal. Sorry but speak that truth to yourself and find your partners accordingly but please stop suggesting that men and men alone adopt this to make your loneliness less palpable. I have known far more women in my life than men who have had sex for reasons of pure lust, of it being hopefully about them getting off, and fucked how they would like, as their only intention and it being nothing about care or healing or relief. In my life i have only even known one guy (pre-tinder) who could even come close to saying he was going out to hook up with someone, meanwhile the number of women i have know who could and did make that happen...point being sex and entitlement seems to only be about a certain group of men of wealth, prestige and who could offer something well beyond themselves. Your everyday guy walking down the street has an entitlement that usually stops at his front door, eveything else is a very wishful ego. 

“The trite wisdom of the late 1990′s, early 2000s - that men are from Mars and women are from Venus - allowed men a pass; they weren’t expected to learn the nuance of nonverbal communication. Women were coached to spell out their desires because male brains just “don’t work” at picking up subtleties of feminine persuasion. Men were positioned as needing to be hit over the head with a big stick like a cave man to understand the more emotional female brain.”

- I think this comes down to what someone’s personal take away was from that school of thought. Being in college and plenty of discussions at the time my take away was that the book was not a call of action for women or a pass for men. It was simply a look at how men and women relate differently. Point of fact men do not necessarily see things as women do, or relate emotionally, on the same play and may not be as keen to nonverbal communication. But many of the take aways were that came as a result of social conditioning that told boys to respond and act verbally where girls were told not to, where boys were told that men don’t live in their emotion and girls were told not to shy away from emotion. If anything it was a fresh take on how conditioning has brought us towards certain issues.But that said as an eye opener i took it as a means of saying men need to expand upon emotional perception, and depth and women could facilitate that by not relying upon non verbal communication but begin to speak to verbal communication...the idea being merge through the existing divide. Apparently i guess this authors take was that men need not evolve...im really getting a sense that this author as a declared feminist is not really looking just for sex, or partnership, but also selective control.

“Ive been taking risks and perfecting these communication skills my whole life out of necessity. I’ve been apologizing for myself for decades. It’s time for the men i date to meet me halfway”

- Its it possible that what you perfected, has perfectly led you to your current loneliness because you have insisted that it is the way you must be and how everyone else must receive you? An expert in non verbal communication seems to leave a lot lacking especially if paired against a severe resistance to verbal communication. Not to mention...who insisted that you apologize for yourself? From the sounds of it, it is hardly about the men you date meeting you halfway, its about them fully committing you where you are, based on where you have been that they individually had no part in. Real talk...sounds like your loneliness and lack of sex/lust is the result not of lack of lust or desire, but being really unable to open up the parameters with how you accept people and their existence. And of course that is your very right, but that means it isnt for everyone else to accomodate you....especially ALL MEN.

[wolfpawn]

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 42

Chapter Summary -  With Tom in Sudan and Danielle in Wales, they are tested for the first time on the ability to be apart from one another for a notable amount of time, can they hack it, and what are they planning for their little reunion?

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long.  This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog  @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe @lys-syl @youcantcatchafallingstar

If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.

“You got it!” Tom was forced to hold the phone away from his ear as Danielle shrieked excitedly down it at him.

“I have not gotten anything yet, technically speaking.” Tom pointed out.

“But you were brilliant, and half of the nominations, I haven’t heard of the shows, much less the actors.”

“Elle, that’s mean.” Tom scolded.

“But I haven’t.”

“Well, you’re not renowned for your love of watching telly.” He pointed out.

“Guilty,” she admitted nonchalantly, causing Tom to chuckle. “Who else has congratulated you?”

“So far, I have had texts from Luke, Ben, the cast, obviously, Kenneth Brannagh, a few of my previous work colleagues, couple of the guys from school and college, cousins, my aunt, Sarah, and of course, mum called, but I only got a message because I was charging my phone, I will ring her back in a while.”

“And Emma?” Danielle asked, noting that he had not mentioned the youngest of the Hiddleston siblings.

“She hasn’t sent anything yet, but mum said that her schedule is hectic at the moment and that Jack was saying she does not get home from the show until three or four most mornings, so I think she is still asleep now, it’s lunch time here, but I think you are still midmorning.”

“Yeah, it is. That’s fair enough.”

Tom had been about to ask Elle something when he noticed the disheartened tone to her voice. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“She’s not talking to me.” Danielle almost sounded like a child, her voice was so small.

“Emma?”

“She’s barely responding to anything I text her, she only responds with one-word answers.”

“She will get over it with time, as you said already; it’s just a little weird for her. Though it’s not fair for her to guilt you like this.”

“It’s also not fair to go after a friend’s brother.” Danielle countered.

“What, are you saying you broke some ‘girl code’?”

“I don’t think there is something officially written out, but yes, I have done something worthy of being told to go fuck myself in many people’s books.”

Tom felt crestfallen. “Do you regret us?”

“I know it sounds bad, but no, I don’t. Emma is one of my closest friends, I have never really been as close with anyone like I have her, I love her, I would do anything, legal or otherwise for her, but I love you, and I like being with you.”

“These are different sorts of love you have for us both, I assume?”

Danielle laughed, “Obviously.”

“It will be resolved soon enough, darling. She cannot stay too mad at people for too long, it is not her way. Do you want me to say something?”

“No, if she needs to be mad for a bit, then let her be, I rather not talk to her until she is ready to. She could say something in anger that could make a big difference to everything and I don’t want to do that.”

“I don’t think I have ever heard of you not confronting something head on before,” Tom noted.

“Because normally, I don’t feel like I could lose my best friend from it.”

“You won’t lose her.” Tom felt hurt on Danielle’s behalf. “She’ll realise soon enough that she’s not actually mad at us and that this isn’t some sort of trashy little fling and that we are happy together, then she will realise you are all the more special.” His smile was blatant through the phone.

“Especially when we decide to…Shit, I am being called back onto set here. Tom, I will talk to you later and I am so happy for you, bye.”

Tom did not even get to say goodbye before Danielle hung up the phone, not that he would have been able to utter the word anyway. He stood, phone still to his ear as he processed what Danielle had been saying before she was called off. She was clearly about to mention something that indicated that she was thinking of something regarding the long-term future for them. His curiosity was piqued at what she could have been about to say. Looking at the screen, he realised he had received several more texts of congratulations, one of which was from Emma.

Emma – Just heard, well done. X

Tom stared at the message before deciding what to text back.

Tom – thanks, sis, sort of shocked, obviously, in an honoured sort of way. By the way, is everything okay? Elle thinks you are angry at her.

Tom looked at the phone for a moment wondering should he have mentioned Elle, before pressing send and turning it off, heading through the departures lounge to start the journey back to London. His trip back to Sudan was over, and in truth, felt worn from it, but, armed with new experiences of the situation there due to his revisiting, he would be able to speak more of it and the terrible situation there, so hr knew it was worth it.

*

“Hey Irish,” Danielle looked at the sound guy who was standing nearby with a few other behind the scenes set staff. “We’re stuck working this weekend, but off earlyish Saturday and late on Sunday, so we are having an unofficial Christmas Party, you in?”

Danielle had taken out her phone as soon as he had informed her that they were working to tell Tom. “I’m probably not going to be able to.”

“Cancelling plans?” he asked, referring to her phone.

“Himself and I were supposed to be going to friends, so yeah.”

One of the make-up artists looked at her curiously. “You never mentioned a boyfriend.”

Danielle froze for a moment, thinking as fast as she could. “Does anyone around here, if you don’t have a wedding band or a diamond ring, I don’t know anyone’s relationship status.”

“True actually. So what will be your plans now?” The artist conceded.

“I will have to tell him the situation and see what he does about it, he may come here instead now.”

“Surely he can join us all then.”

She looked at the other woman apologetically. “He’ll be just back from a tedious flight, so I will mention it, but I can’t give a definite answer yet.”

“Ooh, he sounds fancy, what does he do?”

“Promotion,” Danielle thought quickly, technically, it was not a lie.

“Meh, scratch that,” The other woman dismissed, “at least in makeup, I get to work up close with celebrities. So Danny has an introvert boyfriend, let me guess, you two sit in, watch Game of Thrones and read most days off.” She smiled playfully.

“Not really a big fan of the show, but yeah, read, relax, walk the dog and going for a run usually.”

“Ooh, a dog and everything, very cosy. I hope we get to meet him.”

Danielle smiled politely, but in her mind, she feared such a thing, not yet mentally ready to declare to the wider world about her celebrity boyfriend. “Maybe if he is feeling up to it, we can join you all.” She commented as she thought of what to say to Tom of what was now her weekend, knowing full well he would plead for her to allow him to join her for it.

“Cool, so Danny is a ‘maybe’, what about you Jack?” the makeup artist decided to focus on who else could be roped into a drinking session.

Danielle just smiled, part of her relieved that she already had set up the excuse for her not being there at the weekend. A piss-up, in the guise of a Christmas party, was the last thing she wanted, especially that she knew Tom would be back. Unlocking her phone, she decided to finish and send the text to Tom.

Danielle – Your coming home has saved me from a weekend of hangovers and regrets. Are you coming Friday or Saturday?

*

“It hilarious,” Danielle erupted in fresh giggles.

“I respectfully disagree,” Tom grumbled, though he was somewhat surprised by her reaction, relieved that she had not been upset.

“It’s hilarious, trust me.” Danielle reaffirmed, looking at her laptop. “Though what has me concerned is; the artist putting it there because they knew you lived nearby, which is somewhat odd and unsettling, and how did the paparazzi know you would be passing there. Was it all done as a stunt?”

“You think I set this up?” there was both hurt and anger in his voice.

Danielle sighed, she knew he was jetlagged and that he was always somewhat sensitive when people suggested that he was media hungry. “No, I am saying that they would, of course, know you are home, since you were on the TV this morning, talking about your trip, which, by the way, was a very well done piece, but let’s face it, I knew it would be, I think they did the stunt to keep making money off you and her, even if all you were doing was going to Sainsbury’s for some milk.”

“Sorry,” Tom groaned, his tiredness blatant in his voice, “I shouldn’t…”

“Love, you’re exhausted, please, go get some rest.” Danielle encouraged.

“I’m not…”

“Tom, you seem to forget you were on telly this morning, I saw you with my own two eyes, you’re bollixed tired, don’t deny it. Get some rest, after all, you promised to come see me this weekend.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to go out with the others, I can entertain myself for a couple hours?” Tom asked, turning on the kettle to make a cup of tea while he read over a few things that had accumulated while he was away.

“Well, let us look at everything for a moment, I could go drinking, something you and I both know of my lack of interest in, with a bunch of people I only know three weeks and will only be working with for another two, or I could hide away in a hotel room with my incredibly sexy boyfriend and show him how much I have missed him over the past few weeks, especially when I may have bought something just for the occasion. Such a difficult decision to make.” She feigned a tone of deep thought for a moment before giggling. “I ought to spank that delectable derrière of yours for even suggesting such a thing.”

“I am not going to lie, I am looking forward to seeing…wait, you want to spank me and you bought something, please tell me it’s something I can ogle you in?”

“You’ll have to wait and see.” She could not hide the grin on her face or the excitement in her tone.

“Darling, you have no idea how much I want to get in my car and drive there to you, right this instant.” He groaned in frustration.

“Aw, is my poor man frustrated?” she half-joked.

“Well, thanks to your imagery, I am now sporting something that could…”

“Herd cattle?” Danielle laughed, loving how he was getting more and more wound up.

“Country mouse.” Tom grinned, using Danielle’s own analogy of herself.

“City mouse,” she retorted jestfully.

“Darling, I cannot wait to be around you.”

“Are you heading to your mum’s between now and then?”

Tom’s brow furrowed slightly, unsure as to why she was asking about his mother. “I don’t plan to, why?”

“I was just going to ask you to send me a picture of Mac, I miss him.” she stated sadly.

“If I do, I will.” He promised.

“They have a collie dog staying here at the moment that reminds me of him, I think one of his parents was a collie and the other a German Sheppard, it is so like him.”

“They let dogs stay there?”

“Yeah, not everyone wants to put their dogs in kennels when they go away, so they allow them here for another ten pound a night.”

“That’s a great idea.”

“I know, right? So if you see him, tell him I miss him and I will see him soon, and get me a photo.”

“I promise if I see him, I will.” He smiled, loving how much Danielle cared for the scraggy pup he had rang her about one cold morning while he was on set. “I will talk to you soon, and trust me when I say, I cannot wait to join you.”

“Goodbye Tom, I…I love you.” She admitted in a meek voice.

Tom’s eyes widened at her words, she had said them once or twice before, but never over the phone like that. “I love you too, Elle.” He smiled, “Goodbye, darling.” As soon as Danielle hung up, Tom thought to himself for a moment and then grinned slyly, so with a quick Google, he retrieved the number he required and pressed the call button. When a woman answered the phone, he put his most charming voice on. “Hello, I know this is an odd request, but I need to ask a favour and keep something secret for me.”

[magma-paint]

Obligatory reflection, correcting the record, whatever you want to call this.

This morning at time of posting I made an announcement that anon asks are now available again on my page so long as people are civil about it, and that got me thinking of why I disabled anon asks in the first place. As a result, I’m going to revisit such string of events not just to correct the record of what happened, but so I never have to address or discuss it ever again because I don’t want anything to do with what happened and move on. And in hindsight, it was probably the stupidest sh1t to get worked up over anyway.

During the summer or just entering the season I was browsing my dash like I usually do when I want to kill time and I came across a post one of my friends shared of a video for what you could call a “hair hack” or “grad hack”--pretty much some kind of life hack--for you gals with hair of a natural texture that makes wearing a grad cap difficult if you wish to leave your hair like that for your graduation instead of straightening it or styling it differently to accommodate it. When this all blew up it was assumed that the video itself is what I took issue with and as a result I got at least 30 hate-mail messages in my ask box basically calling me racist, stupid, a [female genitalia], telling me to get off Tumblr, that whole “show me on the doll where the video touched/triggered you” shtick, and on and on it goes, even as far as putting me on a few people’s block lists or “watch out for” lists, basically assuming I responded to the post the way I did because I “hate black people”. Very untrue. What I really responded to was a response to the video that read along the lines of “They only make grad caps for people with straight hair, I swear...”

This was the part of the post I took issue with, not the video itself, because the statement of “grad caps are only made for straight hair” is just so completely stupid and let’s just say the way in which I responded to such a statement was rash, heated, and more or less pulling a first-time-on-the-internet me. Agitated, loud, trying to sound smart, but in reality just looking like a raving lunatic to onlookers. I don’t remember exactly what I said, but “complaining about grad caps is a problem of your own making” was somewhere in there. So, to correct the record, here is what I was trying to say when I was going on an uncalled-for tirade about the statement made in response to the video:

Graduation caps are manufactured on mannequins that are standardized to match the average measurements of an adult head (I know there are high school grad caps and college/university grad caps, but by the time you reach graduation you’re pretty much an adult, so we’re just going to go off of that). These mannequins are pretty much the equivalent of a blank head model you would put a wig on for display or to put it up so that you can get easy access to it without fumbling with the net it comes in if you’re in a rush, no hair whatsoever.

Graduation caps are only worn once for one event and after that last graduation (depending on the degree you wish to obtain or were ultimately aiming for), you’re never going to wear one again, so to complain that a headpiece you only wear once (or however many times you have to with your respective degree, I’m not going to claim I know everything about graduation ceremonies or degrees) doesn’t fit is absolutely ridiculous. I didn’t say anything about not making modifications to it to make it work for the occasion. You absolutely can make modifications to your cap as you see fit and that are also allowed by the school.

Graduation caps are manufactured with the assumption that the wearer either fixes their hair in a manner that allows the cap to be worn as it should without a problem (gelled, straight) or their hair is short enough that certain textures, such as curly, thick, wiry, spiky, won’t make it hard to put it on and wear for however long the ceremony lasts and/or if they continue to wear it at the grad party. Again, I never said anything about not being able to modify your cap as you see fit and within school rules to accommodate it. Absolutely modify it as needed if you want to leave your hair in its natural style.

What I was trying to get at in response to the response to the video was that graduation caps are not made exclusively for people with straight hair, hair of certain textures, or no hair due to either cancer treatment or another medical condition (such as that in which the immune system attacks the hair follicles on the head, for instance) and to think that this is the case specifically to spite those with hair of a certain texture is ludicrous. If the person responding to the video or whoever thought that graduation caps were made the way they were specifically to spite them, then that’s a problem of their own making. Not the fact that they have hair of a certain texture, which is what was taken out of context/misinterpreted, but the fact they think these headpieces you only wear once or twice in your entire life are somehow discriminatory because those with straight hair are able to wear it without having to modify or hack for it accordingly.

Let me repeat myself: I was not insinuating anyone having a natural hair texture was a problem of their own making, but the notion that graduation caps being made a certain way specifically to spite someone with said hair texture was a problem of their own making. This is what got misinterpreted and the aforementioned blacklisting on certain blogs and hate-mail in my ask box from anons is the result.

There, now this is the response I should’ve made in the first place, though ideally the only response I should’ve made was no response at all. I should have just calmed down and walked away from my screen or responded more civilly instead of the raging fit I went off on if I had to respond at all. For anyone who got wind of this drama, hopefully this cleared up any confusion. Anyone out there who still hates me as a result, well, think what you want of me, that’s your bridge to build and cross. I’m not going to claim I don’t fuck up, I absolutely do. In this case I fucked up massively and I would expect people to call me out on it. However, if calling me out means sending hate-mail by anon asks and acting just as irrationally as I responded to the response in the first place, going as far as to brand me as a racist and blacklist me for this accusation based on nothing more than a statement that was misinterpreted, then you have no right to claim the moral high ground either. But I’m ready to be done with this nonsense, especially because what started it was just so utterly stupid. I’m not going to be responding to anything else on the matter and if anyone brings my attention to a mention of me and this drama still circulating, I’m just going to dismiss it. And to further stick this point that I’m through with political, social, or any other kind of drama of that nature, I will no longer be posting anything slightly in that realm, even if it’s on topics I’m strongly for. For now, anon asks are back open again, but the second someone decides to be an ass about it, I’m shutting it off.