#lmk if anyone needs anything tagged re

[waters-and-the-wilde]

no but i love the fact that Dark Matters doesn't have something bigger and more insidious than the Theia

like. what they have is guns and prisons and corporate cronies. maybe a dragon's hoard of stolen tech that they're sitting on but are more concerned with controlling than actually using in any wide-reaching capacity. they're pretty big and spooky but in a smoke and mirrors way that belies the fact that their power is mundane and in some ways still vulnerable to a bunch of meddling kids plucky gay space rogues. maybe that's part of the power fantasy but also part of the message. idk there's something about the tension between how deliberately cartoon-y the tone of the show is and the way it deliberately inflates and then punctures that spooky factor that makes my brain go brrrrrrr like the power they wield is legitimately a threat but it's like how ursula k le guin talks about how evil is banal. and how sasha's both 'the big villain' and also 'you know what i'm not actually all that good at my job it's kinda embarrassing. guess i'll die. i hope we both die'

'evil is banal' and 'we changed some stuff enough to ruin some rich peoples' days and make things a little better and we're never going to fully grasp the long-reaching ramifications because nobody really can' and 'HEHEH MIND MELD ALIEN ROCKET ESCAPE' 'we don't look back at our explosions but not bc we're cool. we're not cool we're just looking to the future. maybe we're a little bit cool. c'mon let a lady and a car lady be a little bit cool'

i have some notes scribbled on my phone to the effect of 'sasha's not actually very good at her job bc dark matters is inherently fucked up' i should go find that

[crossbackpoke-check]

Hello, im wehaveagathering from my main blog, im kind of obsessed with your hockey poetry edits and I think your blog is great! I guess I kind of have a dumb question, where do you find the images you use for your edits? Did you say Getty in your tags?? I’ve gotten into making icons recently (and i have ideas for poetry edits hrrrghhh) but it’s hard to find high res images. Thanks for your time and I hope you have a nice day :)

first of all thank you so much 🥹 and second that’s absolutely not a dumb question!! i do pull a lot of images from getty and i’ll also download pictures from sports articles (i got a lot of the hugheses pictures from online access articles, for example), or sometimes from instagram/facebook/twitter if an account is public. freely admitting that i am not technologically advanced? inclined? in the slightest here, but the image editing software that you use and how you import/export photos with it makes a difference in the quality of them as well!

if you haven’t seen them yet, i would also recommend checking out @simmyfrobby @national-hockey-lesbian @hauntedppgpaints @tapedsleeves @starscelly and @captainbradmarchand’s blogs just off the top of my head!!! they might know more places to get high res images and also i love their work 💕🫶

[gojocp]

"now playing:.."

cw: fluff, angst(??) in itadori's part featuring: gojo satoru, geto suguru, megumi fushiguro, nanami kento, yuuji itadori

a/n: the way i literally deleted all of the fic and had to redo it. also has anyone read the webtoon 'weak hero' cuz im re-reading it and there are literally ZERO fics abt it. also pls lmk if u find any apocalypse-type jjk or aot fics. lmk how this is!! (i think i turned geto in another version of gojo, i literally cannot write for anyone but him its so sad. also i feel like megumi's made no sense LMAO)

GOJO SATORU: 'always forever' by cults. "you and me.. always, forever!! we could stay.. alone, together!!" ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"hey, stop! get away suguru!" utahime shouts, running away from the 16 year old. "nope, sorry utahime! no tag-backs!!" he responds, slapping her back and running away.

"fine! screw you!" she shouts, running to haibara and tagging him quickly.

"haibara! get me!" yells suguru, waving his arms. "okay! if you say so!" haibara responds, doing as the upperclassmen says.

"thanks!" he smiles, making a bee-line towards utahime. "stop it! (y/n) help me, please! why aren't you two playing?" she yells.

"we're tired man.." satoru says, resting his head on yours as you lean against his shoulder, eating a popsicle.

"you were sitting there the whole time!" shoko exclaims. "you didn't even do anything." nanami agrees, having yet to be caught.

"if you need some shade you're free to join us." you say. "no thanks, we're actually getting excercise, unlike you guys. so lazy.." suguru responds.

"hey! stop ganging up on us! we'll sit if we want to! get lost!!" satoru shouts.

.・。.・゜✭・.

after 10 minutes of running around some more, the others decide to call it a day and take a seat in the shade of a seperate tree, not wanting to disturb the two of you. and not wanting to deal with satoru complaining.

"hey, this is nice y'know.." satoru starts, "just being alone together, while the others do their own thing. we should do this more often, just the two of us." he continues. "yeah, it's nice." you agree, looking up and placing a kiss on his jaw.

"hey! look at the sunset!" utahime exclaims, directing your attention away from your boyfriend for a moment. "oo, it's so pretty!" you gush.

"yeah," satoru agrees, looking at you. "it is pretty."

0:40 ——|———————— -3:20

GETO SUGURU: 'lovers rock' by tv girl. "and if you're too drunk to drive, and the music is right. she might let you stay, but just for the night" ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

just like any teenager, suguru believes he can hold alcohol pretty well. he can't.

when shoko sneaks alcohol into the dorms, she convinces the 4 of you to try some. of course, satoru boasts about how well he can tolerate alcohol and challenges suguru to a 'drink off', as he says. after taking a few drinks from his glass, satoru is out cold. shoko decides to put the bottle away and take satoru to his room, leaving you with your drunk boyfriend to take care of.

"please get up, sugu. let me take you back to your room." you say, trying to convince him to get off your lap. "nahh, i'm good." he responds, slurring his words.

"okay fine, stay there then." you say, standing up and leaving him to lay on the floor. "wait-! where are you going? don't leave!" he exclaims, standing up too quickly. you move to catch him, swinging one of his arms over your shoulder to support his weight.

"back to your room, suguru," you respond, "that's where we're going."

"no! i don't wanna." he says stubbornly, wrapping his other arm around you. "wait- stop! we're gonna fall!" you shout. "then we can fall..!" he giggles.

"oh my god, you're so stubborn. i'm taking you to my room." you say, slightly agitated. "ooo, didn't know you were like that." he says, wriggling his eyebrows. 'kill me now.' you think, realizing your mistake, knowing he won't leave you alone about it.

"let's hurry to your room then." he says, leaving a sloppy kiss on your cheek.

you drag him to your room and drop him on the bed and head to the bathroom to do your skincare. when you come back, you find him staring at you, love prominent in his eyes.

"hey, cutie." he flirts with a grin on his lips. "shut up and go to bed." you respond.

"ow, so rude." he says, making himself comfortable under the covers.

"i love you.." he says, giving you a wet kiss on the cheek. "i love you too, go to sleep." you say, facing away from him. he wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer, kissing your nape a few times and snuggling into your neck.

"goodnight.." he mumbles, falling asleep soon after. "goodnight, sugu."

1:20 ————|—————— -3:20

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO: 'see you again' by tyler, the creator. "can i get a kiss? and can you make it last forever..." ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

it's not often you and your friends get to hang out, often too busy with school work.

"wooo! i love the beach!" yuuji exclaims, chasing nobara as you all make your way to the sand. upon arriving, itadori quickly takes off his shoes and clothes, leaving him in his swimwear and runs into the water.

"guys!! (y/n)!! nobara!! megumi!! come swim!!" he exclaims, waving his arms. "coming!! wait up!" nobara says, running into the water.

after placing the towels and bags on the sand, you and megumi make your way to the water. "ugh! stop splashing me itadori!" nobara yells, splashing water back at itadori.

stepping into the water, megumi holds his hand out for you. "here." he says, offering you his hand. "thank you." you say, smiling at him. "eww! you guys are gross!" nobara says, splashing you with water as itadori joins in, splashing megumi.

"hey!" megumi scolds, throwing a beachball at itadori. "ow! what the hell?" itadori exclaims, as nobara laughs at him. "don't laugh, nobara!!"

"whatever.." she responds, splashing him again and swimming off. "get back here!" says itadori. "never!!" she retorts, getting splashed seconds later.

.・。.・゜✭・.

"oh god.. i'm so tired.." you say, heading back to the dorms. "i need a massage so bad." you continue. "i could give you one when we're back?" megumi offers, the others not being able to hear over their yells and shouts at each other. "i'd like that, thank you!" you beam, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

after changing your clothes, you lay down and megumi begins massaging the knots out of your back. letting out a sigh of pleasure, you say, "thank you, megumi.." you say, smiling softly. "anytime." he responds fondly.

after a bit of silence, megumi decides to break it. "you know, sometimes i wonder.." if you look both ways when you cross my mind. "yeah?" you urge him to continue. "no, nevermind.." he replies. "you sure?" you ask. "yeah." he says smiling. "okay.." you say, deciding not to push him.

"i'm done.." he says, moving away and tucking you in. "can i get a kiss?" you ask, as he starts to leave. and can you make it last forever? smiling, he walks over and places a soft kiss on your lips. "goodnight.." he says. "goodnight... i love you." you say, smiling up at him. "i love you too." he says, placing another kiss on your cheek and shutting the door behind him.

2:00 ——————|———— -3:20

NANAMI KENTO: 'for the first time' by mac de marco. "it's just like seeing her.. for the first time..again.." ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

two weeks. it had been two weeks since kento had seen you face-to-face. having to go on a mission out of the country, he wasn't very fond of leaving you alone for a long time. and even though you reassured him over and over, saying "oh, i'll be fine!! don't worry," and "it's only two weeks.. you'll be back in no time." he still worried.

and after two dreadful and godawful (according to him) weeks, he was finally back in japan, handing in his report.

"alright, that's everything. you're free to leave." upon hearing those words, he rushed out and quickly headed home.

"kento?" you asked, when you heard the front door open. "i'm home." he said warmly, with a fond smile etched on his face. 'they're so beautiful, just like when we first met.' running up to him, you wrap your arms around his neck and give him a warm hug, asking "how are you?".

"i'm okay, how have you been?" he asks. "ehh, it's been the same." you respond. squeezes his arms around your waist tighter and places soft kisses on your face.

"what's gotten into you, kento?" you question, laughing softly. "i missed you." he states, placing a final kiss on your forehead. "i missed you too, dear. how about you shower and we can eat? i made your favourite." you say, smiling up at him. "okay.. wait for me, my love." he responds, leaving to go shower.

.・。.・゜✭・.

after eating, you both head to bed and lie down. wrapping your arms around kento, you rest your head on his shoulder and look up at him.

"i missed you kento.." you say sleepily. "i missed you too." he responds. "i love you.." you add, letting sleep engulf you. "i love you too." he whispers, while softly sleeping.

'it's just like seeing her for the first time.. again..'

2:40 ————————|—— -3:20

YUJI ITADORI: "i'll never smile again" by tommy dorsey. 'i'll never smile again...untill i smile at you' ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

'how did this happen?' he thinks to himself. 'this was supposed to be a grade one curse, where the hell did the special grade come from?'

you and yuuji were paired up to travel to shibuya to excorsise a grade one curse. easy enough, right? WRONG!! like all missions in shibuya, something had to go wrong, and in this case, a special grade appeared. you both tried your best to excorsise it, but all your efforts were futile as you were knocked out, and the curse remained in the city.

it had been two hours since then, another sorceror was sent to excorsise the curse. but yuji didn't care, his partner was unconsious and greatly injured, for heavens sake! you had been impaled in the arm and legs and cursed buds were planted inside you, growing deeper and deeper the more you used cursed energy.

i mean, it was already bad enough that an s grade curse appeared, but know you can't even use cursed techniques? the 15 year old couldn't recall what he had done to deserve this, but that's because he didn't do anything. the world is just cruel.

he couldn't ever imagine smiling or being truly happy in a world without you. you were the love of his life. you were his everything. he couldn't lose you too.

'i'll never smile again, until i smile at you.' he thinks to himself. 'please.. whatever god is up there, please save my partner.. i'm begging you..'

love really is the most twisted curse of all.

3:20 ——————————| -3:20

[captainsjack]

Shawngus case fic anon here, thank you so much for your recs!! I went through all your bookmarks as well, and you have impeccable taste thank you for the food. You mentioned I could ask for more recs if I liked so I was wondering if you knew of any good fake dating fics/gen psych fic?

yay i’m so glad you liked them!!! <33

i do have some favourite fics for your next categories, but everything i recommend (in general) comes from my bookmarks (i use the bookmark feature liberally it’s how i keep track of anything i like). so i definitely can recommend more, but it seems like you’ll have already come across them! i’ll list them below anyways in case misinterpreted your ask, or anyone else wants them <3

fake dating: unfortunately not too many idk why :( hopefully y’all can rectify this

fake it ‘till you make it (the_takis_gremlin). i LOVE this, my bestie wrote it and it’s amazing. basically gus enlists shawn in getting him out of bad dates, and shawn shows up as his boyfriend each time.

the last place you look (fencesit). i listed this one last time, since it’s also a case fic, but i’ll also list it here. she’s so good!! pretend married, reality tv show… the scene with them in the limo… i love it.

little murder in the big woods. listed this one too again lol, but it’s so fun to read, the case is super interesting, they’re pretend boyfriends living in a yurt together <3

gen fics: honestly i don’t read non-shawngus fics lol, but here are a few that i loved!

there’s a sixteen percent chance that at least one of us is going to die and its sequal, there’s a thirty two percent chance that at least one of us will need therapy (both by lapsus_calami) are so. fucking. good. breathtaking even. i read them so long ago and i still think about them. they’re the only non-shawngus fics i’ve ever read.

at the gay bar (trascendenza) is so cool!! it’s written in the form of a script which is so fun to read and really unique. it’s technically under shawngus tag, but they’re not dating nor do they get together so i figured i’d list it here. (if anyone reads it and realises i’m wrong and it’s actually shawngus lmk and i’ll wanna re read lol).

every superhero has an origin story (shinealightonme). i’ll be honest, i don’t actually remember much of this one bc i read it so long ago, but i trust my bookmarks so i know it’s good!! adorable baby shawngus fic <3

[icycoolslushie]

I'm Not the Same Person You Left - Benmars One-shot

Not Sad | Sad | Sadder | Saddest

TW/CW: Romeo and Juliette, blood, gore, violence, suicide, basically everything that happens in These Violent Delights

Hope is a feather. It sticks on for some time, but eventually it falls.

Alisa looked at the door again and again, as if hoping Marshall would suddenly walk through. It wasn’t fair she was alive when he wasn’t.

Benedikt Montagov screamed raw in his sleep.

No one came. They were used to this by now.

But Roma hesitated outside of his cousin’s door. It was his fault Marshall was dead.

The thought hit him like the bullet had hit Marshall. Only he didn’t die; he got to live with betrayal and the knowledge that it was his fault everything had gone to pieces.

Why, oh why, had he ever trusted Juliette? he asked himself again and again, though he knew why: he had hope.

Now that hope was crushed just like the thought of never seeing Marshall again.

“Mars! Marshall. MARSHALL SEO.”

Benedikt had said Marshall’s name in every variation, language, and tone he knew. He had pleaded with anyone (whether they were above or below) to get Marshall back. He had done everything except kill himself to see Marshall. But it was killing him anyway.

All he wanted was one last hug. One last laugh. One last smile.

“Mars,” he whispered softly, one last time, a boy that knew nothing would ever be right again but still had a sliver of hope left, before he buried his face into his pillow and sobbed out whatever liquid was still left in him.

The damn loneliness was killing Marshall Seo as much as Tyler Cai’s bullet had been.

He wanted to make sure poor little Alisa was safe, Roma was okay, but most of all he wanted to see Benedikt.

Ben, the other part of his heart, the twin of his soul, the yin to his yang, the yang to his yin. Ben. The person he loved most.

It was his fault, he supposed, for getting so entangled with a person who loved someone from the enemy’s side. But was it his fault he had become attached to a person? His fault he had eventually started loving his best friend? Was it his damn fault that he lived in a city divided by a blood feud?

Even if it wasn’t, it was still his life. And there was nothing he could do but wait till Juliette could do something about her cousin so he could finally get out of this safehouse and into Ben’s arms.

Then it occurred to him: he could do something. How had he not realized? Maybe the desperation was driving him mad, that he actually considered the craziest idea he had ever had.

Damn doing a favour for Juliette Cai. He needed to see Benedikt. Let Benedikt know he was alive. He could sneak out of here, his face hidden in his hoodie, buy (or steal) a wig from the roadside sellers, get a mask of some sort, and sneak into the White Flowers territory.

Yes, that’s what he would do. The only thing that would keep him sane.

He took an empty water jug and smashed it against the windows, breaking the wood that had warded up the glass. He heard something smash below, and knew that the debris must have fallen. He ducked to make sure no one had seen him. After two minutes, when he figured that if anyone had seen the broken glass and chopped wood would have left, he lifted himself up and looked out the window—the first view of the city he had seen since almost two weeks. It looked . . . different. Less people. He supposed they were all being cautious, and at least no one would be able to see a random person climbing down a building.

Marshall messed up his hair, put his hood on, and took a deep breath before he put one leg out the window.

Grabbing the windowsill tightly, he put his other leg out the window as well.

He climbed down, slowly and steadily, years of practice guiding him. When the distance left was just half a meter, he jumped down.

He hid behind an empty cart, making sure no one had seen him, waiting out two minutes in which he re-adjusted his hood and started walking again.

Within ten minutes, he found the tailor shop he, Benedikt, and Roma used to go to get disguises. Usually they paid, but he had no money now, so he entered through the back and found a large purple overcoat, a russet wig, and a cat mask. He put them on, listening attentively in case someone came into the storage room, and left.

He walked for a bit, until he could tell he was in White Flower territory, and Ben’s place was just a block away.

He took to the wall to make sure no one could see him and sneakily made his way deeper into the buildings.

When he was able to see Ben’s window, he stopped. Did he really want to do this? Endanger Ben? Put Ben’s life into even more danger?

No.

No, he didn’t.

But his desire to see him was overwhelming and Marshall decided he could not live with the fact that he would’ve been able to see Ben but didn’t.

And no doubt Ben wanted to see him too.

He took off the overcoat, the wig, and the mask, letting his disguise slip away.

Marshall took a few steps forward away, and was able to touch the window. He knocked hesitantly, then paused. Then knocked again, properly this time.

He gasped.

Benedikt wasn’t sure whether he was dreaming again, had died, was looking at Marshall’s ghost, or was getting hallucinations.

And honestly, he didn’t care. He was getting to see Marshall again, and that was all that mattered.

Benedikt’s blonde hair was messed up, his face was flushed, his skin was way too pale, and he basically looked like a ghost. Someone who hadn’t eaten, slept, or even had proper hygiene. Marshall grimaced when he saw his best friend.

“I must have died and gone to heaven to receive such a present,” Benedikt said. “Or I must certainly be dreaming. Or is it your ghost? Haunting me? I know I should’ve saved you, but I couldn’t. So I’ll let you give me as much grief as you want as long as you’ll stay.”

“Benedikt, you’ve gone crazy,” Marshall remarked.

“Maybe it is the actual you. Only you could be so vexing.”

Marshall leaned back. What was wrong with Benedikt? Then he noticed a plate, full. Not a crumb had been eaten. Benedikt hadn’t eaten anything today, maybe not even drank. Suddenly he felt selfish for delaying this visit for so long. “Can I come in?” he asked, not bothering for the answer, already moving to de-attach the window lock.

Benedikt seemed to have resurrected, and he fiddled with the lock before Marshall, opening it, letting him in.

He looked behind and in all directions, making sure no one could see him, and crawled through the window.

Tripping at the last second, he toppled into Ben, who didn’t have much strength—after all, he had been eating less—and together they fell, Marshall half on top of Benedikt, half on top of the floor. He blushed, which wasn’t like him to do.

Before Benedikt had gathered his strength to sit up, Marshall did, and grabbed the plate with food on it. He helped Benedikt sit up, and slowly fed him small bites of an apple. As Ben had finished the apple, Marshall peeled an orange and fed him that.

Slowly, Benedikt regained his strength, his proper strength, as Marshall fed him a day’s worth of food. It seemed as if Benedikt had only been having only one or none meals a day.

Finally, when the plate was empty, Marshall moved his right index finger over Ben’s lips, wiping away bread crumbs. When he was done, Ben moaned.

“What?” Marshall asked, honestly surprised.

“I never knew—all these years, and God, I was dumb.”

“We’ve been over this. You are dumb.”

Benedikt laughed. “That—you making me laugh. I—” He shook his head. “Can I kiss your finger?”

“You’ll get your mouth dirty again.”

“Maybe I want that.”

Marshall sighed and stuck out his finger into Benedikt’s lap. Ben kissed it. Then Marshall ran his finger over Benedikt’s mouth again, wiping his face clean, taking care of him.

Benedikt had wished for one last hug, one last laugh, one last smile. Now we would make sure each one was memorable, plastered into his memory.

He would make sure he never lost Marshall again.

Marshall Seo the full moon outside, bringing hope and possibilities and new beginnings. He cherished the view and feelings like he cherished Benedikt.

It grows back, though.

Benedikt Montagov had lost a feather, but it had grown back.

He had hope again.

Taglist: @della-vacker-supremacy @themadhatter999 @writeforjordelia @theenchanteddreamer @shadowhuntingdemigod @reyna-herondale Lmk if you wanna be added or removed! (Also feel free to tag other people.) @safinssmontagov (Fantasy Appreciation Week)

[spider-boygirl]

Just re-watched S2 E9: The Chase for the millionth time and remembered a scene that perfectly describes why a post-canon Toph and Zuko best friendship is so important to me.

When Iroh and Toph sit down to have tea, Iroh says to Toph, "You sound like my nephew: always thinking you need to do things on your own without anyone's support. There is nothing wrong with letting people who love you help you." As someone who struggles with this concept a lot, the idea of Toph and Zuko- two people who appear to have had very few friendships in their lives and have a hard time letting people in- learning to be good friends to one another and be emotionally vulnerable with each other, in a non-romantic context, is so beautiful to me.

I'm sure someone has said this before (lmk if so and I can tag them), but I haven't seen anything and the idea of their friendship brings me so much joy. They deserve friendships where they can learn to be vulnerable without fear of judgement.

Also I love what I've seen of @pencilscratchins ' art of them!! Please check her art out!!!

[pogueshomecoming]

so i thought - jj maybank x reader

requested? nope

description: Without closure, after the breakup JJ wonders if you’d ever been truthful during your relationship.

masterlist, taglist, and request links are in my bio :)

warnings: angst, crying, running, anixety… i think thats it

tumblr is weird about italics sometimes so incase they don’t stay italicized, flashbacks start and end with a -

word count: 1.5k

++

JJ eyes the long stretch of asphalt in front of him. It’s familiar, almost inviting. He starts walking, one foot after the other.

Before you, JJ wasn’t one for taking walks. Leisurely strolls weren’t something he was into. He always had somewhere to be.

After you, nothing was that important. Taking the time to walk with no destination sounded inviting, and JJ found himself taking the opportunity any time he could. It was the one time he had enough space to be alone with the millions of thoughts running through his mind.

Peace of mind wasn’t something JJ knew anymore. You’d be the only one who could give that to him, and he knows you don’t want to talk to him. He has so many questions. These roads don’t give him any answers, but they give him a break from the pitiful looks he gets from his friends. How many lies had you told him?

Did you ever like his friends?

-

JJ pushes open the chateau door, wondering why you hadn’t called him back all day, only to find you already there. It was surprising, but it looked so natural. The four of you were in the kitchen, and you were in the center. Apparently, you knew how to flip pancakes like a pro, and everyone, including JJ, was mesmerized by your presence.

“J, watch this!” You yell, your face lighting up like a Christmas tree. With a flick of your wrist, the pancake comes off the pan, flips once, and lands safely.

“That’s cool, baby. What are you guys up to without me?” JJ questions, faking being hurt but making his way into the kitchen anyway. You pass the hot pan over to John B so you can greet your boyfriend properly.

“I wanted to bond with them more, so I brought breakfast supplies. I figured that it would be fun.” You say lowly so only the two of you can hear. JJ knew you’d been worried about infiltrating the pogues’ solid friendship, but clearly for no reason.

“I think you won them over for sure.” JJ smiles at you, pressing his forehead to yours before he kisses you softly.

-

JJ sucks a breath in between his teeth. His feet are picking up the pace ever so slightly. Were you sincere in your efforts to woo his friends? He thought so at the time. Now, he’s not so sure. How could you leave four people so suddenly if they meant that much?

Did you always fake your laugh?

-

Hands on your waist are what wakes you up. JJ’s hands, to be exact. His fingertips travel from your waistband to your collarbones, dancing gently because he knows you’re ticklish. JJ is straddling your lap and grinning ear to ear above you.

Goosebumps rise on your skin as your laugh bubbles from your lungs until it’s pushed from your lips, filling the room like music. “JJ! Stop it!"

"Sorry, sweetheart, no can do. Tickling cheers everyone up, doesn’t it?” JJ pauses while he’s talking, but he attacks again before he gives you any time to answer. Being one of the most considerate boyfriends ever, he’s trying to get you to forget about your previous day that didn’t go so well. You squeal, and JJ starts laughing with you. It felt like heaven to the blonde boy.

Just when JJ thinks he’s gotten all of the laughs out of you, you snort, and suddenly you’re both laughing so hard you’re wheezing.

“Hey, love birds, the HMS pogue, and a beautiful day is waiting for us. You coming?” John B knocks, talking through the door.

In between laughs, you say, “Yeah, we’ll be right out!”

-

JJ’s heart rate has picked up now. Those soft mornings with you were all of his dreams come true. After spending a few years always waking up and participating in a walk of shame, he liked the change of using the time to have a moment instead, especially when that moment was shared with you.

Did you know that this would end?

-

“Are you re- J? You okay?” You knock as you open the bedroom door, finding JJ against the headboard with his knees to his chest. He wipes his face into the crook of his neck quickly.

“Yeah. I’m good. I only need to change shirts, and I’ll be ready, sorry I’m late.” JJ starts to move, but you stop him, placing a hand on his knee and sitting down next to him.

“What is it? You can tell me.” You make sure to make eye contact with him, so he knows he can’t lie to you. He lets v out a soft sigh.

“Things have been so good lately, like really good. Sometimes I get in my head and start wondering how long it’ll last. When will you realize I’m not what you want, and what will it take? If I make one wrong move, you could be gone."

Now that you’re closer to him, you can see his swollen red eyes. JJ is searching your own eyes for any sense of how you feel. Was this too much? Was this his wrong move?

"Baby, what are you talking about? Yeah, things are great. I don’t intend for that to change. You are not a problem, and I’m not going to let you think that you are. We’re good. We are always going to be good. How long have you been thinking about this?” You take both of his hands in yours and kiss his knuckles. The small gesture spreads warmth throughout his body.

“A couple of days. I’m sorry. I know it’s stupid. I keep telling myself it’s fine and there’s nothing to worry about but-”

“It’s not stupid. Come to me next time, alright? I’ll always reassure you.  I’ll always be by your side when you need me. We don’t have to go anywhere today. How about that? We can stay in and do nothing."

JJ looks at you and knows that you see him and his struggles. He knows that you see the patterns in his life. The patterns of his dad being nice to him to get what he wants, only to tear him up a week later. The patterns of JJ not letting anyone close for the same reason. The patterns that no one else has offered to stay as you have.

"Yeah, that sounds nice. You promise you’ll be here?” JJ is too exhausted to say anything else, but you know he appreciates you for being here.

“I will. Any time you need me, I’m here. Forever, if you need me."

-

JJ picks up his pace, now jogging. He’s trying to breathe, but his lungs aren’t working correctly anymore. Despite his gasps for air, he pushes on.

Were you always holding back?

-

You groan from across the room, looking at JJ with anger in your eyes.

"What’s gotten into you? We never fight. Tell me what’s going on, please, Y/N.” Worry is laced in JJ’s voice. He scrunches his eyebrows, and his foot taps timidly against the ground. He’s nervous.

“Nothing’s wrong. I don’t know why I started the fight. I’ve felt crazy the last few days. My emotions are all over the place. I just-"

"You what?” JJ asks impatiently. This sounds like a breakup.

There’s panic in your eyes, but you swallow, hoping it’ll go away. “I love you.”

“Y-you do?” JJ stutters, relief filling his lungs as he finally lets out the breath he’d been holding.

“I do.” You say tenderly, taking steps to close the distance and engulf JJ in your embrace.

-

JJ is sprinting now, his face in a grimace as he is reminding himself to breathe. His hot tears sting his cold skin. It didn’t make sense. He saw the panic in your eyes right before you said it.

Only a week later, you broke his heart. Were you planning to do it that day?

Sometimes JJ thinks the pain of not knowing hurts worse than losing you. Why couldn’t he have closure? Why couldn’t he stop feeling this way?

JJ stops running, coming to a halt immediately when he realizes where his feet have brought him.

Your house.

The door opens before he can knock. His chest is still rising and falling at a rapid pace as he catches his breath. The confused look on your face is washed away by one of sadness. Why are you sad? You broke his heart, not the other way around.

“Can we talk?”

++

JJ taglist + mutuals: lmk if you don’t want to be tagged :) sry i had to delelte and post again

@wlwkie, @jjjmaybank, @shawnssongs, @hopelesswritingxd, @newsiestrash123, @millie-753, @thatsonobx, @jjtheangel, @obxkie, @baileysb1tch, @ohbx, @babysbestlife, @psychicforest, @fanficscuziranout, @maebanks, @diverdown06, @pogue-writings, @maybankdreams, @thelocalpogue, @maybe-maybanks, @dpaccione, @teenwaywardasgardian, @extratragic, @pixelated-pogues, @kitluvs1, @a-brooding-bird, @ilovejjmaybank, @damonsalvawhore27, @beth-winchester21, @danicarosaline, @sunwardsss, @outerbanksbro, @collecting-stories, @yelyahryan, @brightcosmos, @ssprayberrythings, @abbiesthings, @sadcupofcoffee, @millenialpoems, @niya-savage, @queenofthepouges, @poguepunk, @perkeusjackson, @fanofmany, @stfukie @outerbankslut @jellyfishbeansontoast @dmonchld @alternativehp @cognacdelights @love-chx

[wwall-archive]

Proud - King and Longing Heart

A/N: Hi, I'm sappy and emotional but I'm sure y'all have figured that out by now lmao. ANYWAYS hi it's Alistair and I's six month wedding anniversary today and uh here's a fic to celebrate 🥺 and that's abt all I have to say on that for once awnwisnehs I may also being posting a poem later if I can work up the courage but. We will see 😔

CW: Like 2 sec mention of alcohol but not even of consumption. Getting undressed but like domestically not sexually and no nudity. Silly banter where we're kind of going back and forth poking fun at each other but it's all flirty and in good fun and just how we talk!! Hint at Al feeling insecure? But not explicitly stated.

Word Count: 871

Tag List: @sacredempressnatlyia @ladynyat @solomates @cosmicselfship (I. Forget who was even on the tag list at this point. I need to post writing more. I should make a tag list post. Y'all just have this and if you would rather not be tagged just lmk no questions asked avatavtaavyaa!!! and if anyone else would like to be tagged/I forgot to tag you also just lmk as per usual <3)

~~~

I fell back onto our bed dramatically as Alistair closed the door behind us, sighing loudly. “If Teagan doesn't start running Redcliffe and stop randomly showing up here to make us have formal dinners with him to discuss policy, I may go insane.”

His chuckle was low, and soothing, “Are you telling me you don't enjoy being grilled about what we intend to do for road infrastructure on the Imperial Highway?"

“After the huge construction effort that was made to re-pave the whole thing just last year? Not particularly, no.”

He laughed more loudly at that, “Can you really blame him for wanting to make sure that people have an easy time traveling to Redcliffe?”

I raised my head enough to look at him and raise an eyebrow in question, “Are you insinuating anyone has ever had a difficult time getting Redcliffe because of infrastructure and not the plethora of other issues that plague the Hinterlands? Because I beg to differ.”

“You've got me there.”

“Does that mean you'll tell Teagan to go home and stay home?”

“Are you insinuating Teagan listens to me? Because I beg to differ.”

“...You've got me there.” I sat up slowly, stretching my arms out, “Feel like helping me get this dress off? Because these laces are hell and I'd love you forever if you undid them so I don't have to.”

He placed a hand over his heart in mock offense as he moved to meet me at the mirror, “Ouch, I didn't know I was still earning your undying love.”

“I’ve gotta keep you on your toes somehow, can't have you getting complacent.”

“Right, because running a kingdom couldn't possibly be enough to keep me sharp.”

“I see we should be prioritizing curbing your ego, then. I'll note that.” I began undoing the necklace I was wearing as he began undoing the laces on my dress that I couldn't reach.

“So are we going to acknowledge that our wedding was six months ago today, or were we just intending to let that slip by?” His eyes met mine in the mirror over my shoulder once he posed the question.

“Ah, you noted that, did you? I didn't know if six months would be a milestone you'd consider.”

He shrugged, “I'm holding onto the really fancy wine until a full year, but half of one isn't something to snub, is it?”

“No, you're right. Quite impressive that we've gone a full six months of being officially joined at the hip and you're still not sick of my antics.”

He pouted softly, “If it makes you feel any better, I would never describe any of your behaviors as ‘antics’.” He finished with the laces and moved his hands to rest them on my shoulders, rubbing them softly.

“Six months and you've already got the whipped husband thing down pat. That really is the most impressive part, I'd say.”

He reached for one of my hands, raising it to his lips to kiss my knuckles softly, “I could've never perfected the mindset without your guidance. Or just my general adoration for you.”

I rolled my eyes, but couldn't stop my smile, “Oh, stop that. What did I say about derailing conversations with compliments?”

His eyes were gentle, and so was his hand on my shoulder. “Have I told you that I love you?” A thousand times, and he knew it.

“Have I told you I’m proud to be your wife?” His expression snapped to shock as he held my gaze in the mirror. A genuine question, and based on the reaction I was receiving, I assumed the answer was ‘no’.

“Well- I-” I was almost embarrassed to say that I found his sputtering endearing. Almost.

“How does it feel, being on the receiving end of the sudden compliment, huh?” My tone was teasing, but my voice was quiet.

His voice was choked with emotion even as he joked back, “Pretty good, actually. I really don't see what you've been complaining about.”

I ran my thumb over his knuckles, softly, “You know I mean it, right?”

“It's still a little hard to believe, if I'm being honest.”

I turned to face him, taking his face in my hands. Our height difference made the position awkward, as I was determined to look into his eyes, but I would make it work.

“You are the best man I have ever known, and I am proud of you. None of your accomplishments have been anything to write off, down to the way you retain your goodness even in spite of everything you've been through. To even be associated with you was one of the few things I wear as a badge of pride, and to now be viewed as your partner is truly all I could ask for. Do you understand?”

His misty eyes told me that he did. He opened his mouth to speak, but promptly shut it again, and settled for leaning down even farther to bury his face in my neck. I settled for bringing my hand up to run it through his hair, silently.

After a few moments, I both heard and felt him murmur, almost silently, “I love you.”

“And I love you, my King.”

[windandwater]

was tagged for the first time in a while lol y’all learned your lesson about making me do surveys, huh

anyways

top 3 ships:

I’m forcing myself not to go on a whole spiel about what a ship even is conceptually and what criteria I should use to come up with a top 3? liking it a lot? reading a lot of fic of it? writing fic of it? longevity? it’s 2020 and I even have favorite canon ships now!

still, lest this list get 20 miles long, I’m going to narrow it down to the two I’ve actually written fic of, and one I wish I could write about because I need more of them in my life. and just know that this list is WILDLY incomplete.

Sirius Black/Remus Lupin Legolas/Gimli Angie Cartinelli/Peggy Carter

also I’m going to give you a runner-up b/c this list needs more ladies and it’s Korra/Asami because I quite literally only watched that show in its entirety once I found out they got together (I thought they had hella chemistry from the very beginning) so I think that counts.

…but yeah there are more (anyone want book recs? I got book recs) (what if I just go off on a tangent about Shakespeare) (what about a list of pairings from fandoms I’m not in and whose original works I have never consumed that would be pretty hilarious) (lmk if you want an annotated list of pairings I like I’ll fuckin do it) but we clearly don’t have time.

lipstick or chapstick:

uhhh. why is this an either/or question? why do people always try make me choose between 2 things? it’s not that simple, you need a 2 page explanation of my lip habits or this is all pointless! fuck off!

so basically I rarely wear makeup b/c I can’t have any of it around my eyes (allergic reactions suck also fuck off with that “wear it every day” bullshit hey world? this is my face. deal with it.) BUT I do sometimes wear lipstick and a bit of foundation (applied far away from my eyes) for (very, VERY) special occasions. and as for chapstick, I wear it during times when my lips are super dry or prone to chapping, you know, like a normal person. I still don’t understand this question.

last song:

idk, whatever came up on my shuffle as I was coming in to work. I ran into a coworker on the way so I wasn’t really listening.

but my first song this morning was The Grateful Dead - Bertha. A+ way to start the day, it’s a good walk-to-the-subway song.

last movie:

I re-watched Magic Mike XXL to make myself feel better about the world and it worked. that movie really just chugs “loving women” juice the whole way through, it’s delightful.

I meant to use it to get myself into a movie-watching mood and watch something I hadn’t seen before b/c it’s been months since I watched anything but youtube, but it didn’t work. oh well.

reading:

any time I get this question at the end or beginning of the year it’s going to be the same goddamn answer: I’m reading Lord of the Ring again. as usual. I’m at the part where Sam and Frodo wake up in Ithilien and everyone bows to them and I’m just weeping all the way through because I love Samwise Gamgee so much.

anyway next on my list is either The Starless Sea by Eric Morgenstern, which I have a copy of but am less excited about than Wayward Son by Rainbow Rowell, which I will read instead if I get an ebook of it by the time I finish LotR.

[imaginetmnt]

major changes

it’s 5am and i could be writing a more sophisticated post about this, so bear with me through this post, ‘cause it’s important. i reached out to the other mods, and we have all agreed on this.

for now on, this will be a platonic blog only.

okay, big whoop. what does that change, exactly, you ask?

mostly all of the romantic submissions/posts/asks will be deleted

i say mostly all because, frankly

it is 5am and i have collected what i needed

the romantic posts i haven’t deleted are posts with the “continue reading” bar, and right now, i am too lazy to save and compile and organize those

i don’t know what to do with the remaining posts, so i decided to leave them on this blog.

the posts that aren’t deleted will still be tagged under the romance/romantic tags

from this point on, we will no longer take romantic submissions/asks

you can still submit/ask things regarding fluff! fluff and romantic posts are different, so if you want to submit/ask for fluff, you still can!

i know some of you really liked our romantic posts/asks and like submitting romantic things for the blog. i know this could be upsetting news. but instead of just trashing all the romantic posts into the abyss, never to be seen again, i have spent the last 6 hours creating and re-posting the romantic posts onto another side blog! if you want to see the romantic blog, just click here and everything should be there. if you want, you can submit romantic asks/submissions on the new side blog, but we will not be answering questions. again, to clarify:

you can submit romantic posts via the submission/ask box on the new side blog

if you send in an ask for us to answer (ex. can you write turtle doing romantic thing) on the side blog or on this blog, we will not answer it

read through this carefully. if anyone sends a romantic ask and we don’t post a reply with “we don’t do this anymore” or anything like that, you will know why. with this change, we will also be changing the rules of the blog. i will start deleting the romantic posts as soon as i finish posting them on the new side blog.

another note: the new side blog will not be active. we will not be making imagines on there. this blog is still our main imagine blog. the new side blog just serves as a place for the romantic posts to be held in.

if you have any questions/concerns, you can address me, Yaka, and tell me your thoughts. 

final edit: alright it’s 7am, i’ve done the major things and i’m headin’ out. again, if y’all have any questions/concerns, address them to me (yaka) and lmk

[bikaelsons]

die easy

CHAPTER SEVEN ∙ to the promised land

note: there is no author's note bc i regret nothing (except the canonical slander of marcel's character i had to participate in)

warnings: canon-typical violence, course language, alcohol (btw if anyone needs anything else tagged lmk)

<< previous chapter - next chapter>>

ao3 link - tumblr masterlist

The gazebo was a lovely structure, big enough to host a banquet. The shrubs brushing up against it provided an illusion of privacy Elijah did not allow himself to believe. Katerina had picked an open space for their reunion, ensuring nothing could block her minions’ view of her. She was nothing if not cunning, even to those she claimed as friends.

She was there when Elijah arrived, something he hadn’t been expecting. He knew how much she enjoyed keeping him waiting, like a wine bottle on ice. Perhaps this now was to throw him off his game—he’d wanted time to scope out the situation, figure out how to dodge her questions as much as possible. The last thing he wanted was for her fascination with him to extend to Tam and her sons.

“Katerina,” he greeted, watching her response to him carefully. Her hair was different, and she wore a new perfume he couldn’t place.

Katerina’s eyes widened as she took him in. “You’re a little late, aren’t you?”

He knew for a fact that he wasn’t. Reaching out, he touched the new thread of colour in her hair. Pinkish red. “You coloured your hair. I like it.”

She blinked heavily, a standard response. Before she could get her questions out, Elijah stepped forward to kiss her. She remained frozen for a moment before sinking into it. She tasted like coffee.

Katerina hated coffee.

Elena.

Elijah reigned himself in, fighting back the urge to shove her away from him and instead drew her closer, taking the chance to slip into her mind. She’d been taking vervain, he could tell, but there were a few thoughts he could skim from the surface. Interesting.

Elijah disengaged carefully, giving nothing away. “I missed you,” he tested.

“And I’ve missed you.” Another mistake. Katerina would never admit such a thing so openly.

“This is an interesting little town you’ve chosen to settle down in. So, do you have it with you?”

“Do I have what?” Elena asked innocently.

“The cure.”

Her heartbeat picked up. “It’s safe. How about I go find it?”

She turned away quickly but Elijah was faster, grabbing her arm forcefully. “Where’s Katherine, Elena?” he growled.

“I—I don’t—”

“Don’t imagine you can continue lying to me. What have you done with her? Are the Salvatores with you?”

Elena swallowed whatever trepidation his tone instilled in her and face him boldly, head-on. “I don’t have to tell you anything. Why are you here, anyway? You really expect me to believe you want the cure?”

No, he wanted Katerina. But he could hardly have the others knowing that. Not if they had Katerina themselves. God, he hoped she’d been careful … “I don’t have to tell you anything,” Elijah parroted back at her.

Elena rolled her eyes. Something was … off in the movement. He’d enjoyed a fair few conversations with her in the past, but this was different.

Elijah’s phone buzzed in his hand. Katerina’s name and picture popped up.

Answering, he barked, “Katerina?”

“Hello, Elijah,” Stefan’s voice taunted on the other end.

“Where is she?”

“Where’s Elena?”

Jaw working, Elijah stared at Elena as he said, “Safe. How long she remains so depends upon you.”

“Well, I guess the same goes for Katherine.”

Elijah tried to force a laugh. “I’m sure she can take care of herself against the two of you.”

“Oh, you mean the three of us. ‘Cause your little sister decided to join Team Good Guys for the time being.”

Elijah’s fury ignited at the same time as Elena’s delight lit up her face. Blood pounding, he hissed, “Put her on the phone.”

The conversation did little to progress from there. Rebekah was with Katherine and Damon, Stefan wouldn’t help until Elena was returned, etcetera, etcetera. It would have been nought but a plebeian nuisance had Elijah not known for a fact that Rebekah would end Katherine at a whim.

“You listen to me very carefully, Stefan,” he said, enunciating exactly. “If anything whatsoever happens to Katherine, I will descend upon Elena.” Precisely what that entailed, he did not know. He hung up before Stefan could enquire further.

“You’re both idiots,” said Elena, dropping to sit down on one of the benches. “And what happened to you? I thought you were supposed to be a man of honour, and yet you’ve been hooking up with Katherine this entire time?”

He hadn’t, but that was moot. He had to maintain the lie, the lie that the cure had drawn him in and not the promise of Katerina. “She contacted me about the cure. We thought we could be of mutual use to one another.”

“Admit it, Elijah. You fell into her trap.”

“You underestimate me, Elena. I know who she is. I know what she’s done.” Better than anyone, I know.

“And you think she’s changed? She’s playing you. She lied to you, Elijah.”

“And what of you, Elena? Now a vampire, but … there’s something else changed. You’re not yourself.” She shrugged at him, uncaring, and the realisation dawned upon him. “You’ve abandoned your emotions. Why?”

“Didn’t she tell you?” asked Elena, tone lilting. “Jeremy’s dead. Katherine killed him.”

Elijah’s stomach dropped into his shoes. Jeremy Gilbert was just a boy, and one of Matthew’s closest friends at that. For Katherine to have killed him …

Perhaps it was worst that Elijah was unsurprised.

“She lied,” he said. Not about the cure, but about herself. About being better than she had been. But had she really told him that, or had he simply put the words to her lips as he always did, making her something she never was?

Elena, however, found this hysterical. “I hate to say I told you so, but duh!”

Elijah’s fists clenched and unclenched as he tried to remain in control. “And your friends, you’ve all been mourning him?”

“Well, I haven’t,” Elena chirped. “But everyone else is pretty torn up about it. I think poor Matt went to the funeral all alone.”

Losing whatever shred of control remained, Elijah slammed his fist into one of the gazebo’s supporting columns.

 #

 Katerina had never shied away from a snapped neck or a dramatic entrance, so it was no surprise that both were involved in her next meeting with Elijah.

She stood over Elena’s body triumphantly, a grin blooming on her lips.

Elijah barely contained the tremble in his voice. “You killed Jeremy Gilbert.”

Katerina stopped short, watching him carefully. “Of course I did. I do what I must to survive, just as I always have.”

“And is that what I am to you? A means of survival?”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” Katerina crooned, stepping toward him.

“I asked you a question!” Elijah barked, stopping her short.

“Of course you’re not just survival to me,” she said. “We’ve always seen one another, you and me. We need each other.” She rested a hand on his cheek. “I love you.”

Elijah pulled away, ignoring the impulse and leaving his cheek exposed to the bitter wind. “I don’t know you. I don’t think I ever will.”

So he left her.

 #

 Elijah drove back to Mystic Falls as though Katherine herself was pursuing him. He had the cure in his pocket and a chip on his shoulder, and there wasn’t anything anyone could do to stop him.

His first stop was at Folger’s Inn to re-book his old room. They recognised him; he compelled them not to do so again. It wasn’t really a touching reunion.

His next stop was Matthew’s. The house was empty, cold. From what Elijah could scent, Matthew hadn’t been there for some days at least. His truck was missing, too.

Elijah drove past the Gilbert residence, wondering if Matt had taken to staying there instead.

It was a burnt-out husk.

Frustration mounting, Elijah turned back into town and parked outside the Mystic Grill. He released a sigh of relief at the sight of Matthew’s truck in the Employees Only section.

Checking to ensure the cure was safe in his inner-jacket pocket, Elijah locked the car behind him and headed inside. Not much had changed about the Grill—it was as crowded and greasy as usual. The ambient lighting was better suited to a sultry dinner date than a midday mealtime. No one else seemed to care.

Elijah found Matthew taking orders from an older couple at a table in the corner. He perched on a stool at the bar, waiting patiently as Matthew listed the specials three times only for the man to order “our regular” with little explanation.

“Got it,” Matthew confirmed, scribbling something down. “Will that be all today?”

“Yes, Matty,” said the woman.

Matthew left and headed for the kitchen, not seeing Elijah on his way past. He didn’t interrupt him. It was nearing 1pm—maybe he’d be on break soon.

Behind Elijah, the couple spoke in hushed tones that required vampire senses to decipher.

“Poor boy,” the woman was saying. “He grew up with little Jeremy Gilbert. The whole thing is such a tragedy.”

“We’ll tip him well,” the man said, tone detached. “With a mother like his, I bet he needs it.”

“Elijah?” Matthew’s voice snapped Elijah out of his eavesdropping.

“Matthew,” Elijah greeted. “It’s … you look … well.” He looked like he hadn’t slept in three days, but that wasn’t the kind of thing one just said outright. “I stopped by your home to see you.”

“I don’t live there anymore. I’ve moved into Ty’s place.”

Elijah nodded. “Living with your friend must be … that sounds like a good idea.” That sounds like a good idea? Had he lost the ability to speak in Pennsylvania?

“Ty’s not there,” said Matt. “Your brother kinda chased him out of town.”

Ah, that sounded like Niklaus. “You’ve been there alone?”

“Don’t really have anyone else around anymore.”

“I … heard about Jeremy. Matthew, I—”

“You know what? I have some work to do. Some of us have jobs.”

“Of course. Would you have time to catch up later?”

“No, Elijah. I don’t think I will.” Matt pulled the pad of paper from his apron pocket and left to greet a crowd of newcomers.

 #

 Of all the places Matt wanted to be, prom wasn’t one of them. Yet here he was, wearing one of Ty’s tuxes and standing by the punchbowl with his hands in his pockets, determined to have something that resembled a good time.

Speaking of which, Rebekah sauntered up wearing a dress the colour of lemons and looking … remarkably out of place.

“So are you and Bonnie, like, a thing?” she asked, feigning nonchalance. She’d really adopted the modern speech patterns quickly.

“We’re not a thing; we’re friends. Who are you here with?”

Rebekah hesitated. “No one,” she admitted. “Go on, I know what you’re thinking—why didn’t I just compel myself a date?”

That had been what he was thinking, but he didn’t want her to know. “Actually, I was thinking, ‘I wonder if Bonnie wants ice?’.”

“Oh. Can I … ask you a question?”

“Why?” Matt asked shortly. “You seem to already know everything I’m thinking, so—”

“Do you think I would make a good human?”

Matt could admit to being a little taken aback at that. Were any vampires he knew ‘good’? Maybe Stefan, when he had his humanity and pleasant weather and the right lighting. But was Rebekah? “I think that ‘good’ is a hard word to live up to, and I’ve never seen you do anything remotely good, so … Honestly? No, I don’t. Sorry.”

He left before Rebekah could respond.

 #

 Elijah wondered how many times over the years this exact scene had played out. By now, he should be better at predicting its ending.

He sat across from Niklaus, a white oak stake on the table between them. Somewhere, a grandfather clock ticked to punctuate the silence.

Niklaus’ jaw tensed at the sight of it. “Why would you give me this?”

Because you’re paranoid enough to kill us all if I don’t. “We are immortal but for the stake. Now that it’s yours, you have nothing to fear.”

“Silas will continue to torment me.”

“You’ve survived endless torments throughout the centuries, each more wicked than the last: the hunter’s curse, our father’s wrath, Marcellus’ death. You’ll shake this. And if you can’t, you can outrun him.”

Niklaus chuckled. “Yes, it’s that simple. Without the cure, what makes you think I’ll spare your beloved Katerina? Or have you figured out you’re simply another fly in her web?”

Elijah’s tone darkened. “You may do with Katerina what you will. I ask something else in return for this.”

“And what might that be?”

“I wish you to relinquish your hold on the Lockwood boy. Allow him to return here to his friends.”

Niklaus laughed outright at that. “You’re serious? Why would you care for the fate of one boy?”

“Why would you?”

“He betrayed me.”

“He was never yours to possess. Really, Niklaus—I’d have thought that Marcellus taught you not to bleed devotion from those in your thrall.”

Niklaus closed the distance between them, shoving Elijah against a wall. “How dare you use Marcellus against me? I only ever loved him.”

“You used the guise of philanthropy to own him and dared to call it freedom. If fever hadn’t taken his mother you’d have drowned her like Carol Lockwood. What is this obsession you have, Niklaus? Power is not and never has been possessing those that despise you, yet you would punish Tyler for seeking freedom from one he loathed.”

Niklaus pressed the stake against Elijah’s suit, right over his emerald satin pocket square. Also, incidentally, his heart. “I see I am to court betrayal at every turn.”

“I have only betrayed you once in our existence, Niklaus, and we are a thousand years and a broken curse beyond it now. Free Tyler Lockwood and let him return to his friends.”

Niklaus pressed in closer until they were nose-to-nose. “I’ll consider it.” He snapped himself away, tucking the stake into his leather jacket.

Elijah straightened his suit. “It is such a hollow little life you lead, Niklaus.” He pressed a hand to his brother’s cheek, then left.

 #

 “You’re sure you’re okay?” Matt checked again, looking at April worriedly. She was still pale and more than a little woozy.

“I’m fine,” she promised. “You should get going before my aunt gets back from her dinner.”

Matt didn’t like the idea of leaving April, but she had enough vampire blood in her system to keep her safe. And not just any vampire’s—Rebekah’s.

“Well, I’ll get going. Call me if you need anything, okay?”

“I will. Thanks for driving me home.” April’s smile was just as bright as it had been when they were kids.

“Night.”

Matt headed back out to his truck, getting it going so he could start the AC on warm. He held his hands in front of the vents, huddling over them for warmth.

It had been … a hell of a night. Emphasis on ‘hell’. April had gotten hurt over vampire shit again. She’d almost died again. Rebekah had had to save her … okay, that hadn’t happened before, but still didn’t feel particularly unusual. She really was desperate to get the cure from Elijah, but he’d made her good, human behaviour a condition of her obtaining it. You know, like an asshole.

Filled with a night’s worth of bitter anger, Matt dialled before he even knew what he was doing.

“Matthew.”

“You need to give Rebekah the cure.”

“I see she’s informed you of our little wager.” Elijah sounded almost … amused? “She will receive the cure, provided she lives up to her end of it.”

“Give it to her now,” Matt ground out. “You’re not her father. You don’t get to teach her lessons. Who do you think you are?”

The line crackled.

“I see you’ve made some assumptions about the situation—”

“Am I wrong?” Matt pressed. “Did you not tell Rebekah you’d only give her her one true desire if she proved herself worthy to you?”

“It was never about worth. What do you take me for? This is about certainty. She sees only what is ahead of her and nothing of what she will leave behind. A thousand years as a vampire, with all the darkness that comes with that, but all the gifts as well. She cannot leave it so easily, and I will not allow my sister to end her immortal life on a whim.”

“She’s a thousand years old,” said Matt. “How long has she wanted this? How long has she been broken by it? How many times has she longed for the chance you’re keeping from her now?”

“She doesn’t understand—”

“No, don’t. Don’t you dare decide what she understands. You don’t know her, Elijah! You hadn’t seen her in a century before a few months ago. Give her the cure and let her decide. We both know she deserves it more than Klaus ever will, and with the way Elena’s been I’m not sure even the cure will save her.”

“If the Salvatores discover that you have ruined Elena’s chance at humanity, they might kill you.”

“Wow, I wonder what it’s like to be in danger.”

“I’m serious, Matthew.”

“Let them,” Matt bit back.

“You don’t mean that.”

Matt tightened his hand over the steering wheel. “Look, just give her the cure, Elijah. Whether or not she takes it is up to her.”

“You don’t command me.”

“You don’t command her.”

Only Elijah’s breathing drifted down the line, holding the silence until he spoke again. “I’ll see.”

And he hung up.

 #

 Matt drove home in silence, operating on autopilot and arriving home without even thinking about it until he came to a halt half a street away. Either side of the road was lined with cars.

Right—the party.

Matt pulled off into a back road to get a park closer to the house and walked the rest of the way. The party was just kicking off under Caroline’s supervision. Matt dodged a gaggle of drunk football players making a beeline for him while exclaiming, “Matty!” and got inside undisturbed.

He found Caroline in the den, nursing some of Ty’s dad’s good scotch. She greeted him with a muted, “Hey,” tipping the glass towards him.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Tyler’s gone.” She hiccupped a little. “He left about an hour ago.”

Without saying goodbye to anyone but Caroline. Shitty but unsurprising. “I’m sure he wished he could stay,” Matt said.

Caroline shrugged, downing the rest of her glass. Matt eyed the half-empty bottle. “You sure you don’t want to slow down?”

“I have vamp-level tolerance,” Caroline told him, refilling her glass. “I’m sure I’ll be fine. But you might want to check upstairs. I’m pretty sure Bradley Dixon and Lexie McGuire are about to start banging in your room.” She tapped her ear, then took another sip.

“God, can we not end this already?” Matt rubbed a hand over his face. “I’m exhausted, April almost died, Elena’s well and truly off the reservation—just, do we have to do this now?”

Caroline took a moment to catch up with what he was saying, and then she stood. “I’ll go start compelling people.”

“Are you sure you’re good to do that?”

She turned back to Matt, setting the glass down and putting one finger to her nose, then drawing it away in a straight line. “Not drunk. There?”

“That’s not exactly scientific. Just … don’t compel anyone. I’ll take care of it.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“Shut off the electricity for half an hour. You start telling people that the Grill is mostly empty and they should move there.”

“Is it?”

“It’s a Friday night, so no. I’m sure they’ll find somewhere.” He grabbed a torch from one of the chests of drawers in the den and tucked it into his sleeve.

 #

 There were a few screams when the power first went out, but Caroline managed to convince everyone to move on quickly enough. Matt stayed out at the back of the house at the power supply. He waited until Caroline called out to him, then switched it all back on.

He rejoined Caroline at the house, watching her sway on bare feet, the skirt of her dress bunched up in one hand.

“You need me to call a cab?”

“I can drive.” Caroline stared him down for a moment, still swaying. “All right, maybe not.”

“You can stay here if you want. I’ll make up one of the spare rooms for you.”

“I’ll stay in Ty’s. Good night.” Caroline gave him a half-hug and headed upstairs. Something told him staying in Ty’s room wouldn’t be cathartic for her, but whatever.

Though the party had lasted only an hour, the house was already a mess. The keg had been taken (the team was never one to waste perfectly good beer), but red cups littered every horizontal surface and there were snacks covering the dining table—and the dining room floor, which now crunched underfoot.

Matt had just started cleaning up the mess when there was a knock at the door. He brought the broom with him to answer it, part of him thinking he could always use it to chase whoever it was off.

Except that it was Elijah, so perhaps not.

“What are you doing here?” Matt asked.

Elijah eyed the broom. “Are you going to beat me with that?”

“Why are you here?”

“Are you going to invite me into your new residence?”

Matt refused to look away from the gaze Elijah levelled at him. “Did you give Rebekah the cure?”

“Yes and no. I … intended to. She stood before me and I put it into her hands. As it turns out, I was fooled by Silas’ shapeshifting capabilities.”

“Which means he has the cure in his possession, and we’re all screwed.” None more so than Rebekah. “Fuck, I—I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten involved.”

“This isn’t your fault. You were right about Rebekah, about everything.”

“If I hadn’t told you to give it to her, Silas wouldn’t have it.”

“If I had given it to Rebekah the moment she told me she wanted it, Silas wouldn’t have it either.”

It was true, however much Matt didn’t want to admit it. “We fucked up.”

“I contest your inclusion in that ‘we’, but yes.”

“You could’ve just called me to tell me all this.”

“I wanted to ensure that you are well. I hear there’s been some … drama.”

“That’s one word for it.”

“Are you all right?”

“Peachy.”

“Testy, more like. How about we have a conversation?”

“I don’t have time, sorry. I have an entire house to clean.”

“I could help you,” Elijah offered.

“How many years has it been since the last time you held a broom?” Matt asked incredulously.

“I hear there are vacuums now.”

Matt raised the hand with the broom in it a little. “Call me old-fashioned.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Elijah hesitated, a hand on either side of the doorframe. Matt could tell he wanted to ask for an invitation, but something stopped him. “Well, I should be heading off. Rebekah will require some consoling. I’m glad to see you’ve landed on your feet.”

“Likewise.”

“Have a good evening.” Elijah pushed himself back off the doorframe and disappeared into the night.

 #

 It wasn’t that Elijah wanted to leave.

He didn’t feel particularly motivated to stay, but for Matthew’s issues. He’d been concerned by the earlier phone conversation, the terse attitude and disinterest in conversation. He wasn’t himself.

But the moment Rebekah told Elijah where Klaus had gone, he knew he had no choice.

New Orleans had been kind to their family, once upon a time. That kindness had evaporated into smoke the moment Mikael arrived and killed Marcellus. And if Klaus was returning …

There was going to be blood. And where there was blood on Klaus’ hands, thereafter ran Elijah, eager to clean it up.

Perhaps self-awareness made it less pathetic.

But for the first time, Elijah didn’t follow immediately. He had unfinished business—not with Katerina or the Knights, and certainly not with Rebekah, who’d do as she pleased for as long as she could until Niklaus inevitably came after her for it.

No, it was the matter of Matthew and his most recent loss. In that vein, Elijah had arrangements to make.

 #

 Caroline was gone when Matt woke up.

The few cleaning tasks he’d left to do later were completed, and the house was pristine. The note on the fridge read: Hope you slept well. I cleaned everything else up and grabbed some more groceries for you. See you later xoxo

Matt smoothed a hand over his face, pulling the fridge open to investigate. It was stocked full of milk and three kinds of juice, some various fruits and vegetables and yoghurt, too.

And she’d managed it all before 9am.

Matt skipped over all of it to get at the leftover Chinese food instead.

He’d made it halfway through what remained of the chicken lo mein when his phone rang. It was Elijah, something that no longer surprised him.

Picking it up, Matt said, “Yes,” a bit more curtly than he intended.

“Matthew. I hope I’ve found you well.”

“Uh, yeah.”

“I’m afraid I have to leave town. My brother has taken off and I’m tasked with fetching him.”

Klaus was gone? That could only be good news. “Tasked by who?”

“None but fate, I suppose. I’m going off to ensure he doesn’t get himself into trouble.”

“I wouldn’t be worried about him.”

“I’m afraid I seem unable to shake that particular concern.” He paused. “Matthew, I’m sending you the details of someone my assistant has located. I’d like you to go and see him.”

“Who?”

“He’s a psychologist I’ve had compelled to assist you. He will keep his Wednesday night appointments free for you, unless you ask to change the time. I’ve paid in advance, so it’s all taken care of.”

A psychologist? Really? “What do you expect me to talk to him about?”

“Anything you desire. You’re under no obligation to attend, but I’ve ensured that he will remain available for you. I’ve compelled him to forget all about you unless he’s speaking with you, so your secrets really are safe with him.”

“I don’t have any secrets.”

“On the contrary, Matthew—you’ve been burdened with everyone’s secrets. I do hope you’re well. Please call me if you need anything, even just to talk.”

“I will.” Matt didn’t know whether to feel touched or violated. He decided to go with neither and changed the subject. “Uh, good luck with your brother.”

“Thank you, Matthew. Take care.”

The line clicked.

 #

 Elijah really should have known better than to imagine fetching his brother from New Orleans would be a simple matter. Few things with Klaus were, but his relationship with the city was likely the most complicated relationship in his life, besides Marcellus.

Of course, Marcellus and New Orleans always had come together, and since the boy was alive after all …

Snapping out of his pondering, Elijah pulled up at the cemetery parking lot. He tried and failed to not check his phone for messages. There were several texts from Rebekah but none from Matthew. His offer of a psychologist was intrusive, he knew, and trying to find out what Matthew’s response was would be unhelpful. That didn’t stop Elijah from checking constantly for any message, be it one of gratitude or anger at overstepping.

Putting his phone away, Elijah stepped out of the car. His Mercedes was at odds with the rust-buckets that flanked it on either side; Elijah took care not to bump into either of them as he exited the car, desperate not to ruin his best suit.

He didn’t know why he’d dressed up so well just to return to New Orleans. Or perhaps he did know and was avoiding the truth, even in his own mind.

Good impressions were priceless, he reminded himself as he crunched his loafers over the gravel. The sound reminded him of clenched teeth and grinding bones.

Upon approach, Elijah could hear five heartbeats in the crypt: Sophie Deveraux; the other witch named Agnes; yet another witch Elijah hadn’t yet identified; and, finally, the young wolf girl with two heartbeats inside her, both her own and another smaller, more rapid one.

The witches knew Elijah was coming before he was in sight of them. He entered the crypt to find them arranged around Hayley in casual stances, though he could smell the magic ready to burst in the room.

“Elijah,” Sophie greeted, her dark eyes hard. “Is it done?”

“My brother has once more gotten himself into Marcel’s good graces,” Elijah confirmed. He forced his gaze to remain on Sophie, though his attention was with the girl in the center of the room. “He will continue to work as your agent there.” Well, Klaus hadn’t (and wouldn’t) put it that way, but until they could free themselves of the witches’ threats against the child they were relatively at the mercy of the Nine Covens.

“That’s good.” Despite her words, Sophie’s tone was not congratulatory. “I’m sure Hayley is relieved.”

“I’d like her to be a good deal more than that.”

Sophie’s eyebrow raised. “Oh?”

“I want her freed.”

“We’re not doing that,” said Agnes.

Sophie shot Agnes a look that may have been discreet by mortal standards, but for Elijah it stretched an eternity and spoke volumes of their relationship.

“Free how?”

“I don’t expect you to free her from the spell,” said Elijah, tone obvious, “and I wouldn’t bother to ask. But I do want her at my side.”

“You’ll try to break the link.”

“If we do, there will be dire consequences. You assured us of that. Or were you bluffing?” Elijah trailed off with the shadow of a smirk.

Predictably, Sophie’s hackles rose. “No, we weren’t. Try to break the spell and we both die. No loopholes.”

We’ll see about that. “I simply wish to have her at my side. It benefits both of us—you do not have to see to her upkeep, nor take on the trouble of confining her. Something tells me she’s displeased at her accommodation so far, and wolves can be so difficult when the full moon nears. Have you seen her through one yet?”

“Pregnant wolves don’t turn on the full moon.”

“No, but all wolves become … agitated. Are you prepared to deal with the bloodshed that comes with confining a wolf under her moon? Or have the wolves been absent from this city so long that you’ve forgotten their capabilities?”

Sophie remained stoic, but the third, nameless witch shifted uncomfortably. “He’s right, Sophie,” she said, and as she spoke Elijah spied the silver edge that poked up over her shirt collar. A bite, and not one from vampire fangs either.

“Besides,” Elijah continued, “my brother is fickle and barely convinced of this course of action. If you intend to bind his assistance to his love for this child, he’d best be near it as it grows. Hearing that heartbeat’s strength could do wonders for his cooperation.”

Sophie sighed.

“You’re not seriously considering this?” Agnes demanded.

Ignoring the interjection, Sophie said, “You know the consequences for breaking the spell fine enough. Remember that you can’t take her out of the city, either. If she’s too far from me, we’ll both feel the effects of the spell straining. It won’t be pleasant, especially for the baby.”

“Understood.”

Sophie held his gaze for a moment, expression still inscrutable. “Fine,” she said, stepping aside slightly. “She’s all yours.”

Elijah offered Hayley his hand. She took it cautiously, peering around as though waiting for a trap to reveal itself. He felt the tension begin leaving her the moment she touched him. He put himself between her and the witches; she went willingly where he guided her, something he suspected she didn’t do very often.

“I’d say it was a pleasure doing business with you,” he began, giving Agnes a tepid smile, “but it certainly was not.”

“We’ll be seeing you soon,” Sophie promised, her eyes looking past Elijah at Hayley, who he felt shudder behind him.

“Of course.” Wasting no more time, Elijah dropped his hands on Hayley’s waist and lifted her slightly to speed her away, back to the car.

He set her back on her feet seconds later. She blinked, a little disoriented.

“Sorry,” he said. “Agnes was eyeing you and I thought it might be best to get you out as fast as possible.”

Hayley nodded shortly. She was doing her best to conceal the small shakes wracking her frame. Her jaw was tense and her eyes were distant.

“Are you all right?” Elijah asked as gently as he could.

“Fine,” she said. “Just … had a bit of a wild time. Not the good kind.”

“I am sorry. But you’re free of them now, I swear.”

“Am I?” Hayley asked, looking at him finally. Her eyes were glassy.

“The spell is an issue,” Elijah agreed, “but my family and I have dealt with greater.”

“And if the spell breaks, you really think I’ll be free? Your brother won’t allow that.”

Elijah paused, unsure of what to say to that. Hayley spoke again before he could figure it out.

“Let’s just get out of here,” she said. “I need to wash this awful day off myself and sleep for a thousand years. Please tell me you have somewhere for us to go.”

“Of course. Niklaus is readying it as we speak.”

She snorted. “Oh, goodie.”

 #

 The house was all set up with water and electricity by the time they arrived. There was hot water for Hayley’s shower, which she disappeared off to complete the moment she was shown her new room. Elijah’s assistant had brought her some basic clothes and toiletries, but she didn’t say thank you for them.

Since they’d done this to her to start with, Elijah was hardly offended.

Most of the furniture was covered in sheets, but Elijah located Niklaus in the one room that had been cleared out and dusted off—the former sitting room, where Klaus now sipped bourbon and gazed into the empty, cold fireplace.

“Already drinking, brother?”

Klaus smirked at him over the rim of his glass. “Of all the interventions you’ve staged for me over the years, this is by far the most pedestrian.”

“On the contrary.” Elijah sat down across from him, pouring out his own glass. “The drinking is by far the most tolerable of your vices. Do please continue.”

“Mm.” Klaus balanced his glass on the edge of his chair. “The house is remarkably well-kept, given its age.”

“The plantation house, you mean,” Elijah corrected. “Of course it has been. It was heritage listed before you compelled it into your possession, and this country so loves its monuments to horror. Was it really necessary that we inhabit one?”

Klaus shrugged. “It’s a perfectly fine place to live. We’re familiar with it, and we know there’s no way Marcel frequents it.”

“I have no doubt that the reason we’re here is Marcellus, but I do doubt it’s convenience. When he does discover you no longer stay at the hotel in town, I’m certain he’ll be devastated upon realising your actual residence. It follows that you intend to capitalise on his misery—or perhaps you only wish to enjoy it from afar?”

Klaus prickled. “Whatever harms my enemy is a tool for my own keeping, I suppose.”

“You forget the century for which he was most certainly not your enemy.”

“He is now,” Klaus snarled.

“Just him? Not these witches? Not anyone else who would harm your child? Do not make the mistake of focusing on the enemy before you, Niklaus. Remember who put him in your path, and what means they used to get there.”

“Marcel holds the witches in subjugation,” Klaus said, as though Elijah was unaware. “Why shouldn’t they find freedom in whatever way they can? I of all people know what it’s like to be denied who you truly are.”

Elijah couldn’t stop his scoff. “All these centuries I’ve spent seeking the exact location of your capacity for empathy. I should’ve known it lay with the kind of vermin that would curse your own family. You do so appreciate the majesty in an act of subjugation. Our current locale is further proof of that.”

“Watch yourself, Elijah,” Klaus warned.

“Or you will do what, Niklaus?” Elijah volleyed back, an edge to his tone. “I wish to see this through the same as you do, but make no mistake—what Marcellus has done, taking this city as his and making it his own, growing his community, even attacking the wolves and the witches … that is nothing compared to the crime of threatening this family. If you accept this child as yours, if you open yourself to fatherhood, that is your only objective. Any violence you bring to this house that isn’t in pursuit of that is a perversion I will not tolerate. Do you understand me?”

Klaus froze, taken aback for perhaps the first time in a century.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Elijah said smoothly. He downed his entire drink in one swig and dropped the glass on the table. “I’m going to go check on your child’s mother for you.”

 #

 Elijah woke early the next morning. The heat had already settled over the house like a blanket, so he made a note to ask his assistant about installing air conditioning. He and Niklaus would cope with the poor weather just fine, but Hayley would need the comfort.

He could provide her with that, at least.

He had a full breakfast ready for Hayley when she woke. Perhaps it was too much hovering, he wondered as she choked down a single pancake and avoided meeting his eyes.

“The house needs some work before it’s suitable,” Elijah said, gauging her reaction. “I’d like to open it up and clear out the dust today, if you find that amenable.”

Hayley nodded. “I can help.”

“You don’t have to. Being here is enough—you should relax.”

“No, I need to keep busy or I might actually go crazy.” She shoved her plate away, looking a little peaky. “If I haven’t already.”

“Are you ill?”

She rested her hand over her mouth for a moment, tense. After a moment, she relaxed. “I’m fine. The morning sickness isn’t that bad yet.”

“Have you received any medical advice yet?”

“I only had my pregnancy confirmed by a spell, so no. Didn’t even get to pee on a stick.” Despite the building heat, Hayley wrapped her arms around herself. “Doesn’t quite feel real yet.”

“Would you like me to procure you a stick?” Elijah offered, smiling.

Hayley laughed. It was an incredible sound, loud and bawdy and inelegant. “Thanks, but I think I’m good.”

“Understandable,” Elijah allowed. “But on a more serious note, I’d be happy to find a competent physician, someone we can compel to see to your needs. External threats aren’t the only thing you need to be kept safe from.”

“I’d appreciate that.” She smiled at him across the table.

Elijah stood, his chair creaking as it was slid back by his legs. “I’ll clean up.”

“I can help—”

“No, please, it’s fine.” He still hadn’t heard from Matthew or Rebekah, and he was finding that focusing his energy on the new situation was a good distraction from his concerns. And that meant keeping as busy as possible, as much as possible.

“Okay.” Hayley stood, looking a little awkward as Elijah gathered her plate together. “Thanks for cooking breakfast. I’m enjoying it while it lasts.”

“Thank you for eating with me.” Elijah turned his most charming smile on her. “I’ll meet you upstairs in fifteen minutes? I’d love to get the library cleared out for use again.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Brilliant,” said Elijah, stacking the glasses on the plates and carrying them into the kitchen. He heard her linger, both hers and the baby’s heartbeats suspended in the dining room. There was a rasp as her fingers trailed over the wood of the table, tapping lightly before she turned to leave.

Upstairs, she fussed around in her room for a while before heading to the bathroom and switching the shower on. Elijah stopped listening abruptly, switching on the tap in front of him and starting in on the washing up.

He had a big day ahead, and even bigger days ahead of that. He could only hope he’d succeed in all he had to do.

Little did he know of the silver dagger that awaited him in his brother’s grasp not three rooms away.

 #

 Matt groaned as he woke, rubbing at his neck and surveying the textbooks scattered over the coffee table.

Rebekah appeared the moment he made a sound. “Are you hungry? Sore?”

“I’m fine.” He shielded his eyes from the sun filtering in through the window. Great—morning in the Salvatore house. He’d slept all night there after staying up to study with Rebekah.

No, wait—they had been studying, but then he’d volunteered to help get Elena back and … yeah.

“You let Damon Salvatore kill you as a part of his latest plan and then a magic ring brought you back to life,” Rebekah said exasperatedly. “You’re not fine.”

“Except that it’s not even the worst thing to happen to me this week, so I’m getting good at adjusting to the new, fucked-up status quo.”

“You’re exhausted.”

“That’s a default setting. You can go home, by the way.”

“To the house Nik built? Too pretentious for me. I prefer somewhere homely.”

Matt scuffed a socked foot against the burgundy carpet, 99% sure it had been stained that colour by blood. “This isn’t much better.”

“But you’re here, and you can’t be trusted to study alone. You’d probably rather go toss yourself off a cliff or something.”

“I don’t have a death-wish.”

“Just a ‘maybe-it-doesn’t-matter-that-I-keep-living’ wish. Either way, I’m not going anywhere. Get used to it.” She folded her arms over her chest, literally not budging. Matt was a bit disoriented by her determination—his experience with Elijah had taught him that some vampires have manners. Rebekah was indicating that her brother was an outlier after all.

“So you’re just gonna stand there and watch me?”

She dropped her arms, gesturing to the chair beside him questioningly. He nodded, giving her permission to drop into the spot. She perched there elegantly, her hands folded in her lap. She’d been there all day and night and still hadn’t removed her heels.

“Coming back to life,” she started, voice gentler than he’d heard it before, “it feels … wrong. It can be difficult to come to terms with.”

Matt supposed it made sense that Rebekah would have a complicated relationship with resurrection. “I think there’s a difference between this and … when you were turned. I mean, I don’t know everything that went down, but I heard that you didn’t really want it. I chose to do this.”

“Is that supposed to be a comfort?”

“No. Just a fact.”

Rebekah’s jaw tensed. “I’ve been daggered by my brother countless times over the centuries. Each time I woke, the world was a new place—new inventions, new societies, new wars, new misery. It was jarring, but it was nothing compared to coming back to life after my father ran me through. The first time you die … there’s nothing like it.”

Matt waited to see if she was going to continue. She didn’t.

“This, uh …” He cleared his throat. “This wasn’t the first time I’ve died.”

Her head whipped around to look at him. “What?”

“It’s happened before. Jeremy started seeing ghosts and my sister was one of them, so I thought maybe if I died and came back like he did I’d see her, too.”

“Did you?”

“No.”

Silence fell, stretching out between them like a high wire. Neither of them dared to cross it.

Changing the subject, Matt said, “On second thought, maybe I am a little hungry.”

Rebekah had her phone out of her pocket and in her hand before Matt could even process the blur of her movement. “I’m going to order some pizza.”

“There’s two whole leftover ones in the fridge.”

Rebekah laughed incredulously as she put the phone to her ear. “If you think I’m putting anything that comes out a microwave into my mouth, you’re sorely mistaken.” She flounced away to make the order. Matt didn’t know what pizza place was open at 10am, but he had a feeling compulsion was involved. Rebekah had developed a taste for modern takeout, after all.

Being left with nothing but his thoughts was its own torture. Matt tried reading through the nearest textbook but none of the information penetrated the fog that had settled over his mind. He picked up a pen only to put it down moments later.

His phone rested face-down on the table. He picked it up to check, seeing one message there. From Caroline, not Elijah. The disappointment was stronger than usual.

Whatever he said to Rebekah, dying was never something he would just get over. And having Damon be the one to do it…

Pulling up the conversation with Elijah, Matt let his thumbs hover over the keyboard for a moment. How are you? he asked, then erased it in favour of Haven’t heard from you in a while. Hope everything’s okay. He sent that instead.

“I hope you’re good with pepperoni,” Rebekah announced, marching back in. “I figure we eat some brain food then get back to the study?”

“Sounds good,” Matt agreed. “I might just grab a shower, get cleaned up.”

Rebekah’s nose wrinkled. “Yeah, I wasn’t going to mention the smell.”

“Thanks,” he said acerbically, avoiding the temptation to toss a pen at her. She laughed at his annoyance, and he couldn’t help but chuckle back.

He was sore when he stood; he had to smother it when Rebekah started toward him, looking ready to sweep him up and carry him at the slightest sign of trouble.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he told her.

She rolled her eyes. “Try not to brain yourself in the shower, you fool.”

 #

 Klaus stood over his brother’s body, the pallid grey of desiccated skin dark against the white of his collar, dull in contrast to the shining silver dagger buried in his chest. In another time, it would’ve made a fine painting.

In the next room, Hayley continued clearing the dust, coughing slightly.

The phone in Elijah’s pocket buzzed. Klaus knelt beside his brother’s body and pulled it free.

Haven’t heard from you in a while, it read. Hope everything’s okay. From a contact only listed as “Matthew”. No surname given.

It took only a few scrolls of Klaus’ thumb to uncover the rest of the conversation. Matthew Donovan.

A surge of anger ran through Klaus. Elijah discussing sensitive matters with their enemy—and to say nothing of what he may have mentioned beyond the text messages … What was it about the busboy that had Rebekah and Elijah so thoroughly devoted?

Glancing down at his brother, Klaus scrolled back to the bottom and began to formulate a reply.

 #

 There was a response from Elijah when Matt got out of the shower.

I am otherwise occupied. Please do not contact me this way again.

Matt told himself it was nothing. Elijah was occupied with whatever was going on in New Orleans, with his brother, with his family. It was useless to bitch about it.

Denying the disappointment did nothing to lessen it.

 #

 The explosion rocked through Matt, leaving him breathless. He wasn’t close enough to feel it, but the sound had his blood pounding in his ears as he stumbled down the street.

She’s fine, he told himself. Rebekah is fine. She just … stepped on an explosive device for you. You know, after she promised to show you the world.

But she was an Original. She’d be fine.

Matt’s hands shook as he pulled his phone out, his sweat-slick fingers struggling to punch in the passcode to unlock it. He pulled up his text conversations, scrolling past all his friends until he found the last conversation between him and Elijah.

Your sister can survive explosions, right? he tapped out. He sent it before he could think, then followed it up with a panicked: I think she’s okay. She should be.

Not exactly super comforting, he had to admit. And Elijah had also asked him not to contact again, but maybe if he knew something was happening with Rebekah …

It was gross of him to use Rebekah’s situation to connect with Elijah again. A little disgusted at himself, Matt put his phone away and broke out into a jog.

He had a graduation to make.

 #

 That night, Matt stayed firmly in the boundaries of his home, resting a hand on either side of the frame. Rebekah stood outside, her hair a slash of gold under the porchlight.

“I know that we were under duress today,” she began awkwardly, “so … whatever, you know, plans that we were making … I understand if you don’t want to.”

Plans to travel around the world. With her. Starting in Italy, apparently. It was never going to end well. But if he was still with her, maybe Elijah would contact her …

Matt sighed. “You and I … this isn’t gonna work. I need to keep my love life a low-vampire zone, too, okay?”

Her smile faltered. “Of course. I get it.”

“So whatever happens on the road, stays on the road, all right?”

She brightened back up again. “I’m sorry, are you saying …”

Matt shrugged. “I’ve never set one foot outside this town. I have no college plans, no idea what the future holds for me … But I do know that it’s time that I start truly living. And, since you almost killed me this year, I figured it’s your obligation to show me how.”

Rebekah didn’t jump up and down, per se, but she did rock on her heels excitedly. “Okay. Um—do you want to pack? We can leave in like an hour. I’ll just go get my things.”

“Sounds good. See you then.” Matt stepped back and shut the door in her face, if only to stop her from seeing his own smile.

Maybe he was waiting for news of Elijah. In any event, he could afford to have fun while he did.

He deserved it.

[isabellaflvme]

( hi it’s jinx again!! hopefully for the last time !!! i also play mary!! )

ISABELLA FLUME has joined the fight! the TWENTY-SEVEN year old works as a MANAGER/OWNER OF HONEYDUKES, but spend HER time fighting for NEUTRAL. ISA is known to be INTELLIGENT & MATERNAL, as well as PEOPLE PLEASING & OVERTHINKING. ( fc: deborah ann woll )

AESTHETIC: always having a deck of cards & candies in her robes, sugar, curiosity, rain, worn hardback books, broken paper back spines, courage that doesn’t roar, learning to abandon masquerades but having trouble not telling white lies, a fire crackling, exploding when you least expect it, hiking trails. fighting through the fear, recovering one day at a time, forcefully finding peace & purpose while the world is falling apart.  PINTEREST: [ x ] 

triggers: eating disorder tw ( i will specifically label it ), illness tw, 

quick points before her bio!!!

don’t call her bella, bells, you can use isabella but that’s usually if you know her, she’ll usually introduce her name as isa. Edgelord obviously™

Tired Mom Friend

is a halfblood but her parents have paraded her as a pureblood for A WHILE

The War is a lot and she’s neutral, wants to know how to help but is scared. gets a lot of pressure to mingle with prejudiced purebloods and did as a kid and in school but the past few years she’s gotten more distant. doesn’t believe in blood prejudice, but also doesn’t really know where her place is to help in the war. 

if u ever hear this lady raise her voice LMK!!! or run cause she is v soft spoken

just a heads up -- i have extensive experience and have done research w/ eating disorders, and im not here to glamorize it, use it as a plot device etc. still, i will tag it so it doesn’t trigger anyone else!!! 

BIOGRAPHY ( it’s long sorry ):

Born on the cusp of winter and spring, March 21, 1951, was a day her parents, Michael and Amelia Flume, cherished. They were two highly respected Aurors who had been trying for the longest time to conceive children — their  window of opportunity was running out. It was their only way they could think of keeping their marriage together, especially after the war. Both had been through a great deal, including losing two of their previous children after Grindewald ( due to fallout of them being Aurors )  and found themselves irreparably changed — but scared of being alone. In turn, they clung to each other and decided to build a new life — starting by restarting a family. Her mother who was almost too old and weathered to have children, went to healer after healer, trying everything she could to have a child. Finally, their miracle of miracles, Isabella Marié Flume was born.

They spoiled their daughter rotten and made sure she was educated in absolutely anything and everything from a young age. Her mother, Amelia, was harder on her daughter than her father was ( they had been trying to re-enter Pureblood Society as a means of protection, hoping that it would help them survive which reflected their parenting style towards their daughter ). Especially when it came to food and appearance. She wanted her daughter to be the epitome of perfection but not only that, to grow up a strong woman. Amelia felt by being tough on her daughter, this would cultivate a strong exterior. While this did happen, Isabella was also utterly miserable. Instead of playing wizard games with the other children in Godric’s Hallow, Isabella was learning French, and just injected with all kinds of knowledge she didn’t really want at the time. Happy was what she wanted, and happiness to her was in the form of being free, especially from these expectations — but going outside to play would do.  Isabella never got the chance and eventually gave up trying to fight her parents, and ultimately instead started trying to please them.

Still, the absence of the children they should have had, weighed heavily on Isabella’s shoulders. Late at night when they thought their prized daughter was asleep, her parents would bicker and cry about how much they missed their other children. Amelia and Michael blamed each other — and all this made Isabella want to do was make them happy even if it meant sacrificing her own happiness. The only truly happy childhood memories Isabella could draw around her childhood revolved around food — which was a great coincidence seeing as her uncle owned the infamous Honeydukes Sweet Shop. She was always completely entranced when she went in, and Ambrosius and Arabella Flume always gave her the parental love she desperately needed and was lacking. Once her mother saw her love sweets she nicknamed her daughter  “Belly”, in an attempt to maybe get her to lay off the candies. It didn’t really work, so her mother’s primping and comments became frequent.

Isabella tried to be what they wanted and failed at first when she was sorted into Ravenclaw instead of prized Slytherin. But her parents overlooked that first transgression — Ravenclaw was respectable. Isabella became the perfect daughter they wanted her to be. Seeker on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team her Second year. Made prefect in her  fifth year. But — when they wanted her to make Captain in her Seventh as well as Head Girl — she faltered. Isabella was just average at best. She had reached her potential and it was never enough. The girl was under such pressure, one day she just snapped and yelled at her parents, telling them what she thought. Her parents then started to fight, and blaming each other.  In turn, Isabella once again felt she had to make them happy. The cycle continued.

[ !!!! eating disorder tw !!!! ] It was in the beginning of that seventh year that Isabella fully started to feel her parents pressure. Food became a comfort, and she’d often sneak to her uncle and aunts shop to binge on sweets whenever she was nervous or anxious about something. Then, because she felt guilty for eating so much, she’d force herself to throw it up. This became a coping mechanism, and it gave her a sense of calm until it just became something she couldn’t stop. Bulimia was something all her own, something her parents didn’t control. Something she was good at. [ eating disorder tw end ] 

[  eating disorder mentions ] At the start and for a long time after that, Isabella’s life became a blur. After she graduated, she desperately wanted to move to Romania to work with dragons for a year before becoming an Unspeakable — but it was something her parents disapproved of. Isabella ended up taking a lot of shifts at her uncle’s store, Honeydukes, and when her uncle fell ill — they trusted her to take care of the store. Since her aunt was always taking care of her husband, they gave complete ownership to Isabella — who now feels completely bound to it. Her and her eating disorder are in a hellish like equilibrium. To try to cope further with it, she’d engage in excessive drinking, meaningless sex, drugs occasionally on nights because being in her head was too much to handle. She clung to it, it was her, an escape but knew after a while that those were horrible behaviors to have and a disease that eats away at her even with magic.

The years she was supposed to use finding herself and discovering who she was have been used to help with Honeydukes and fuel her disorder. She finally looked into treatment and luckily St. Mungos had very good outpatient treatment when the Muggle World hadn’t even had a name for her eating disorder - bulimia - yet. Isa didn’t know much about what she wanted to do with her life, but she knew it wasn’t destroying herself. Finally, with intensive outpatient treatment and Isa opening up to and getting support from some friends -- she got better. She became more open. She fought for herself and her sanity and has been in recovery for over two years, healthier than she’s been before.  [  eating disorder mentions end ]

You’ll more than likely see Isabella walking around with a bright smile, walking around, talking with her customers, getting to know each in every one of them. Isa is very caring, extremely kind, but also very nice which sometimes make people think she’s a pushover which she’s really not ( anymore ). She does like to please people, something she’s still not managed to shake off as time has gone by and what really tethers her to Honeydukes but she’s trying to make the best of it. Being very soft spoken, it’s been really hard for Isa to stand up for herself as well, something she’s working on. She still goes to therapy, because while everyone else is fighting a war on the outside, she’s waging an internal one that she needs to win more than ever on the inside. There’s a guilt she feels, not being more active in the war effort but also a wonder of what she COULD actually do help. 

that’s it im done phew pls like it if you’d like to plot!!

[bajablasted]

hello and welcome to me developing a new oc. their name is cow (Maybe!) cargo pants. thats the name now

[#187-188 | 7/7/2021]

[ambersky0319]

Prompt: deceit angst, “I WON’T BE LEFT ALONE AGAIN!” Idk really but I feel like it could work?

Pairings: None

Warnings: Deceit angst, No happy ending, Embodiment of Repression, Unsympathetic core sides + Remus, touch starvation, lmk if I should add anything else!

Masterpost 

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

Deceit collapsed on the bed. Another day he had spent just wandering the Subconscious. Not to find anything, really, but just give himself something to do. His room was slowly becoming part of it, he could tell, and so it allowed him easier access to the dead gray landscape.

It didn't bother him that his room was becoming part of that section of the mind. It really didn't. In fact, it was great for him! No one cared to go that far in the mindscape, meaning Deceit had it all to himself. And that was perfectly fine in his mind. No one to bother Deceit, and no one to make Deceit feel as though he wanted to stab his eye out with a fork. Just utter peace and quiet. Exactly how Deceit liked it.

"I thought you vowed to never lie to yourself, Dee?"

Deceit's eyes snapped open at the voice, though he immediately closed them. Exhaustion was eating at his whole body, and Deceit wanted nothing more than to fade into thin air.

"You don't want that, my dear." The bed dipped beside Deceit, and a hand brushed Deceit's hair from his face. The hand was warm, so warm in face Deceit thought for a moment that Remus was beside him again, that he had come back.

His hopes immediately shattered when he cracked his eyes open, seeing mostly orange staring down at him. The figure solidified, and the hand moved down to unbutton Deceit's shirt. Only a few of them were opened, enough to let the side drift his hand over Deceit's heart.

Deceit looked away, shuddering under the touch. The hand left a tingling feeling everywhere it touched, and Deceit vaguely tried to remember when the last time anyone had even come near him. It was so long, though. Not that Deceit cared.

The side's palm pressed into Deceit's chest, right above his rapidly beating heart.

"What, Res?" Deceit asked, his voice cracking and barely above a whisper.

Repression "Res" Sanders smiled falsely down at Deceit.

"Never thought I'd see you again, Deceit. Really. After you shunned me to the Subconscious. But now you're here! Why'd you shun yourself, Dee?" Res asked, lightly tracing circles with the tips of his fingers, never once lifting his palm.

Res could feel it all, all the emotion just bubbling under Deceit's skin. It prickled his own fingers just tracing over the most vulnerable spot, and Res knew all the repressed feelings inside his fellow side were going to be absolutely thrilling to see come to the surface.

"Just go."

Res clicked his tongue. "Now now, Dee. You're the one who summoned me, no need to be rude."

Deceit closed his eyes again, feeling his head throb. "I summoned you...?"

"The Subconscious, technically. But, if you hadn't been lying to yourself and repressing your sadness, it wouldn't have brought me to you."

"Oh."

Deceit really didn't have the energy to fight off Res, cast him back into the Subconscious. Or rather, further in.

"Why haven't you left yet, then?" Deceit asked after a few moments of silence. Res almost pulled away his hand, but he was so close to pulling free the last thread he needed to. So, he laughed bitterly instead.

"Just because your room is still tied to the main part of the mindscape doesn't mean I can walk up there freely. Little Anxiety would surely cast me out, as would both Creativities. And Logic."

"Ah." Deceit sighed, his face relaxing. He didn't care, really. If Res left right now, he doubted that the others could do much to stop him. Deceit had been the only one keeping him at bay, after all. But Deceit didn't say any of that.

A wave of longing washed over Deceit just as Res finally pulled his hand away, even moving to get off the bed. Instinctively, Deceit reached out and grabbed Res's wrist, tugging suddenly. "Please- I don't, I..."

Res stared down at Deceit, feeling all the confusing emotions finally cracking the surface. Res grinned.

"What is it, Dee? Use your words." Res said, turning his wrist to break free. He caught Deceit's hand, though, and squeezed it lightly.

Deceit gasped lightly at the motion alone, and he covered his mouth with his free hand. He couldn't believe he was going to let the words leave his mouth. He wasn't that desperate.

"Well, Dee?" Res prompted further, pulling the hand at the Deceit's mouth away. "Don't keep me waiting, or else I'll just leave you all alone again."

Deceit's eyes widened, and he caught Res's gaze through his quickly watering eyes. "No, Res, please... I don't- with you around I- I won't be alone anymore, please Res, don't go-"

The smile Res gave Deceit would have usually been a red flag to Deceit. But he was just so desperate-

"One condition, dear." Res said as he sat down once again.

"Anything..." Deceit whispered. He hated how pathetic he sounded.

"You let me completely repress you from our Host."

Deceit's eyes flickered to the door, the one thing that kept him attached to the forefront of Thomas's mind. But... He was already being forced away, Thomas wasn't acknowledging him and he wasn't accepted like everyone else. It, would it really matter? He doubted they'd even notice him missing.

No, they would. They definitely would. Because if Deceit was repressed, Thomas wouldn't be able to tell a single lie. None of them would. They would have nothing but the brutal truth.

"Deal."

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

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