#alr so then he was getting my shoulders and moved my hair aside and leaned down and kissed the side of my neck

[buckys-estrella]

I had the most delicious dream ab bob floyd and I’ve been replaying it in my head since I woke up

#we were on the beach with the rest of the dagger squad #pretty sure it was right before dogfight football #hangman and rooster got in a little scuffle #they looked so good btw #anyways I was putting on sunscreen #and I went to bob to ask him to put it on my back #anyways he was doing it #and babes this dream??? #I could feel everything‼️ #and the warmth of his hands and how big they were I was just going insane #alr so then he was getting my shoulders and moved my hair aside and leaned down and kissed the side of my neck #and he kept kissing me and I was literally going insane #he pushed against me closer from behind and he was so hard and ahhhhh #anyways I turn around so we’re full on making out and we’ve back up a bit to the point that we’re in the water a bit #we we’re already near the shore so it wasn’t that far #and he lifts me up and I wrap my legs around his waist #and I can feel him even more and tbh I was so desperate for the dick #like he was just so painfully hard and I could feel him grinding into me #and he’s such a good kisser omg I was going feral I swear #anyways it had to end there bc cyclone called us out saying that we weren’t being professional and still on the clock and blah blah blah #alr cock blocker #so fucking rude #would’ve fucked bobby on the shore in front of everyone but whatever🙄 #anyways yeah it’s just on repeat now in my head #bob floyd #sara:speaks

[mimiwrites2000]

What Does White Mean?

Chapter one / TWO

AO3 ~~

Pairings: Armin x Annie

(side pairings: Pieck Finger x Jean Kirstein, Reiner Braun x Hitch Dreyse, Mikasa Ackreman x someone new)

Words count: 7645

* spoilers for chapter 131 and up

Summary:

The ocean lulled them to sleep, and the sun woke them up with mild kisses. Tangled with each other, in their cabin by the beach. After the war ended, they moved together, ever since, they faced obstacles, issues, and misunderstandings. One of them was Armin’s seashells. Stubbornness got in the way, but no matter how much they tried, they couldn’t keep their hands to themselves.

They usually walked to Mr. Leonhart’s house and, well, this time was no different, however, not a single word was said since the morning.

After Armin finished his piece, and was finally satisfied with the results, a piece he could look at and say perfect— he slithered in bed beside Annie, expecting she might turn around and face him, but he was welcomed with her soft, slow breathing.

Armin convinced himself that it was so late when he went to bed, of course he wouldn’t have expected her to be wide eyed waiting for him.

He turned on his side of the bed, ignoring the bang of pain in his chest.

He would’ve talked to her, really, but she didn’t give him a chance. He woke up, only to find her side of the bed empty and cold. He looked for her around the house, but she was nowhere to be seen, she must’ve gone out for a walk or something.

He thought of having breakfast, but the thought of food made him queasy. The thought of going out and looking for her, calling her name, giving her the piece he made, and kissing her until his lungs burst— flipped in his mind, again and again. However, if she wanted some time alone, then he should leave her be.

But he couldn’t ignore how their steps fell unsynced as they walked side by side, their rhythm off.

Annie didn’t look at him, not even a glance. 

It was hard enough to not look at her when she was in a red dress. A dress that started from her knee up, flowing until it reached her waist, fitting around it like petals of a rose, while the fabric hugged her chest and went up until it ended in a short, draped sleeve.

He wanted to stomp his feet, scream and shout, do anything, but please Annie look at me!

He shoved it down, the feeling clogging in his stomach, as he forced himself to keep walking.

Soon enough, they were knocking on Mr. Leonhart’s door.

A moment right before the door clicked open, Annie hooked her arm in Armin’s, he didn’t have time to react or question it.

Instead of being greeted by Mr. Leonhart, Pieck poked her head out the door. 

“Oh hey you guys! We’ve been waiting for you!” Pieck said, stepping aside, making way for the couple to enter.

Usually, Armin is the one to speak, but he was too stunned to utter a word.

“Pieck,” Annie said, and the usual talk, as if nothing happened, made Armin fight against his widening eyes. “I’m glad to see you here.”

“Likewise,” Pieck replied, her smile wider than usual. Armin stepped in the house, Annie by his side.

Annie had told Armin the day prior, before their fight, that her father was holding a dinner, but he didn’t expect that many people to be there.

He couldn’t see the wall from across the room because of the numerous guests, some were his friends, some he acquainted, and some people he never saw before.

Her father’s house was a nice place. A one-story house with a garden. Humble furniture. Simple. But it was small to occupy that number of guests.

He spotted Reiner leaning against a wall, talking to a lady, in a flowery dress, and shiny hair, when he got a closer look, he gaped; it was Hitch.

She looked at him, and he didn’t realize that he called her name out loud.

She basically ran to them, flinging one arm over Armin, the other over Annie, squealing and perhaps saying something.

When her squeals calmed down, Armin finally understood what she was saying, “It’s been so long oh my God I missed you so much when was the last I even saw you Armin why are you no longer writing for me Annie you finally used that hair clip it looks gorgeous on you!”

“Yeah”, Armin answered.

Annie touched the hair clip in her hair, shaped like a red rose that went along with her dress. She seemed to get over what Hitch just vomited, or maybe she was too used to her former roommate, “Hitch I’m so glad we could meet, to be honest I didn’t expect to see you here, how are you?”

“I’m good! You two moved in together, right?” Hitch asked, too enthusiastic.

Annie looked at Armin, a small smile on her lips, giving him his turn to answer.

“Uh yeah, a few months ago, a cabin not too far from here,” he answered, half of his mind in his words, the other half thinking of Annie’s change in demeanor, “we’d like to have you there someday, it’s a nice place.”

“I’d love that! And-”

Before she could vomit another bucket of words, Mr. Leonhart appeared from behind Armin, clasping his hand on his shoulder. 

“Oh there you are! I’ve been waiting for you! What took you so long?”

In a second, Annie was in her father’s arms, kissing him on both cheeks, engulfing him with a second hug, “The walk to here took a bit longer than usual,” she said, “right, Armin?” 

Ah

He understood.

She didn’t want her father to know they had a fight.

“Oh yeah, I guess we were a bit slower than usual,” Armin answered, shaking hands with Mr. Leonhart. The man’s grip was as tight as ever, shaking Armin’s hand as if he’s giving him his will, or trusting him with something.

“You know, you both can always move here with me, I have an extra room, besides, it’s closer to town-”

“Father,” Annie interrupted him softly, with a smile, “we know, thank you.”

He smiled back, before he motioned around the room, telling them to enjoy themselves as dinner would be served soon.

Each time they met him, he offered the extra room he had, and asked them if they would like to move in. Armin understood, it must’ve been hard to let go of his daughter.

Armin wondered if he would experience the feeling one day, the protection over your daughter… 

He shivered, glancing at Annie, their hands still linked.

At that moment, Armin spotted Connie and Jean, he tugged his arm to get Annie’s attention, but before she even did, Hitch had already snatched her from him, putting an arm over Annie’s shoulder, and walking away.

Armin couldn’t help the smile growing on his face, Annie’s friendship with Hitch was something else.

“Armin!” Connie called.

The smile on Armin’s face grew even wider.

Connie and Jean looked like they always did, Connie flashing goofy smiles, and Jean slicking back his hair that he so obviously spent hours on, putting every single hair in its desirable place. But Jean looked… different, something about his fidgety feet, and his hands that he couldn’t keep in one place for more than three seconds.

Armin wanted to ask him if everything was alright, but Connie had already swept him in a talk about an idea of a business he’s trying to establish.

As Connie rambled on and on about far too many details, Armin’s eyes wandered around.

He saw Pieck’s family, Gabi and Falco with their families as well. Reiner and Connie’s mothers. Levi on his wheelchair. And other people whom he had no idea who they were.

There were too many guests for a simple dinner.

His eyes wandered farther, until he finally saw her.

Mikasa, sitting on a chair by herself, sipping from a cup, looking around, before her gaze focused on the cup.

Armin patted Connie on his shoulder, apologizing and telling him he would be back in a second to hear all about his business, before he made his way to her.

He sat down on the couch beside her, she didn’t recognize his presence until he called out her name.

“Armin,” she said, her voice tendering like it always did when she called his name. “I was waiting for you, how are you?”

“I’m fine, what about you?”

“I’m ok,” she replied.

She wasn’t.

Her eyelids drooped low on her eyes, the black bags underneath her eyes stark against her pale skin. Her shoulders slumped in, caged on herself.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

She looked at him, and pivoted, “No, you tell me what’s wrong.”

“Huh?” he raised his eyebrows, baffled.

“What happened between you and Annie?”

Oh

Of course she’d notice.

"Nothing, really," he answered, avoiding her eyes.

"Tell me."

He knew Mikasa so well that she wouldn't back off easily. When Armin was hurt, she was ready to strike. But the fatigue covering her features worried him as well.

"How about you tell me first?" He said, crossing his legs.

"No," was her immediate, concise answer.

"Come on, Mikasa, I know something is wrong."

Hesitance, he sensed the hesitance prior to a confession.

He uncrossed his legs, leaning with his elbows on his knees, his voice dropping to a little bit higher than a whisper.

"You can tell me, what's wrong?"

Mikasa pressed her lips, her eyes darting around the room, settling on her hands resting on her lap, before she shifted closer to Armin.

She whispered so low that Armin had to strain his neck forward to hear her right.

"There's… someone... a guy that I've met, and..." She looked up, meeting his eyes. A smile appeared on her face as fast as it faded, before tilting her head down again, "And I just, you know, I don't know, I just, I don't think I should get myself into anything right now, but… I also-"

"Mikasa," Armin called, she looked up at him, her eyes meeting his. He reached for her, resting his hand on her knee, giving it a squeeze, "I'm happy for you," he said, a smile seeping into his voice, "I'm really happy for you."

Mikasa blinked, "You are?"

"Of course!" He said, leaning back in his chair, "of course I am! That's great Mikasa! When can I meet him?"

Mikasa's lips parted, mouthing the question Armin asked, once, twice, before she said, “I think it's still a bit early for that… but maybe… soon?"

“I can't wait," he answered, smiling, genuinely smiling, his smile contagious, making its way to Mikasa's lips, her face lit up with relief. 

He wanted to let her know that it was alright to find someone, it was alright to think of yourself, it was alright to just move on.

"Alright," she said, her shoulders visibly relaxing, the contours between her eyebrows unwrinkling, "now, what's up?" she nudged her head to where Annie stood.

"Just a dumbass fight, you know?" He answered, shrugging.

"Is it something serious?" She asked, concern evident in her voice.

"No, I promise," he said, looking at Annie from across the room, Hitch beside her, just talking and talking, Annie listening with a small smile on her lips.

"Besides," he said, "I will make everything right tonight." He didn't think of it before, but he knew it, and was adamant to fix everything. He touched his pocket, feeling a circle of metal.

Mikasa knew Armin long enough to decipher each glance, look, or touch, and when she watched his scrutinizing eyes on Annie, she knew that everything between them would be fine.

But, his eyes.

Those eyes

When they looked at Annie, Mikasa could swear they would shine, almost twinkling.

The way he looked at her differentiated from any other way he looked at anyone else.

She wondered what went inside his head, besides the countless questions she itched to ask, when did he fall for Annie? And what did he do when he realized his emotions for her? 

She smiled.

Their story should be engraved in stone, Mikasa thought, a story for generations to come, a story of patience, understanding, and pain. 

A story of tears, betrayal, hurt, but also trust, and love.

A story everyone should learn from.

As well as Mikasa herself.

Across the room, Annie could feel his eyes on her, and she wanted to stride across the room, hold his face in her hands, and kiss him, in front of everyone, she couldn't care less.

But stubbornness came in the way.

She knew this rift would be over as fast as it started, they would laugh about it, and they would get stronger than before.

For now, she gave Hitch half of her attention, nodding at almost everything she said, her mind whirling in her skull. That was until Hitch said something that couldn't get past Annie's ears.

"Hmmm?" Annie asked.

"That dude, the bulky huge one," Hitch said, nudging her head. Annie followed her motion and-

"Oh, yeah the one you were talking to when we arrived, that's Reiner." She answered, looking back at Hitch.

Hitch gasped, “The same dude who wrote to you when we were roommates?”

Annie nodded.

"And?" Hitch inquired, her neck craning forward in anticipation.

"And what?" Annie asked, genuinely confused.

Hitch groaned, throwing back her head. She loudly whispered, "And what what? Him, I'm asking about him, do you not get it?"

"Hitch, I don't speak codes."

Hitch facepalmed, she memorized Annie's helplessness when it came to guys since their Military Police days, but this? Nah, this was far out of Hitch's league.

"I shouldn't be surprised, it took you long enough to even recognize Armin's feelings for you."

Annie swallowed. She needed to change the topic.

"The food is good here," she said, except that, well, they didn't have any food yet. 

Hitch raised a confused eyebrow.

"Is your dad the cook?" Hitch inquired.

"Uh, no, of course not, unless you guys wanna have military food."

Hitch laughed, and Annie was grateful that her slip up went unnoticed.

"Uh, may I get your attention please."

Annie, with everyone else, looked at the center of the room, Jean stood there, fidgeting, alternating his weight from one feet to the other.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but we have, uh, an announcement," he continued.

Annie looked around the room, and by the look on everyone's faces, no one knew about this. Even Armin, when she glanced at him, he looked just as surprised as everyone else.

Until her eyes landed on her father, who smiled knowingly at Jean.

"I… uh, I'm sorry, we're sorry, we didn't… tell you about this before… but, uh, this is... Alright so this is not actually a dinner, I mean, no wait, technically it is a dinner," he stopped, his words not making sense to his own ears, he pinched the edge of his nose, breathing deeply.

"Basically," another voice joined, everyone swiveled their heads— Pieck.

With floating steps, she started towards Jean, and even though her words spoken to everyone, her eyes only held his.

"Basically," she repeated, "this is an engagement party."

A few what's and huh's erupted from the group, which only made Pieck chuckle.

She made her way beside Jean, intertwining their hands together, before she leaned on his shoulder, and said, "This is Jean and I's engagement party!"

For a few seconds, the room turned dead-silent, a few people, including Armin, involuntarily stood up, gaping at the newly engaged couple. Then a few oh my God's and a couple of louder what's echoed in the room, before someone started clapping, someone else shouted yes!! 

Then everyone attacked them with hugs and kisses. Pieck's father cried, and Jean's mother comforted him as she dabbed at her own tears 

Annie blinked a few times, before she looked at Hitch, a big toothy grin on her face, and Annie couldn’t help but return that smile. 

Soon enough, they made their way to Pieck. Annie hugged her, taken aback by Pieck’s tight embrace, which Annie tried to turn back. Annie never saw Pieck smiling as wide as she did, the tips of her mouth stretched up, her cheeks pink, and her eyes wide and shining. 

Jean’s happiness was more subtle. His excitement equaled Pieck’s, but he was more fidgety, shy and blushy.

Annie stepped out of the bundle of hugs. She walked to an empty corner, looking for Hitch, but then she saw her by Reiner’s side, playing with her hair, swaying her hips. Annie sighed, now she knew what Hitch meant.

Annie scrutinized Reiner’s expression… he didn’t seem bothered by Hitch, in fact, he listened intently. Annie made a note in her mind to tease him about it later.

She looked around the room, saw her father talking to Jean's mom and Pieck’s father, she wondered how it came that he is the one holding this party for them. She shook her head, wondering how he kept it from her as well. 

Then her eyes met his.

Armin.

He was already watching her, a small smile on his face.

She looked away, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, and why does my face feel hot all of a sudden?

Of course she wasn’t marrying anytime soon. 

Of course not.

Annie swallowed, walked around the room, trying to find anyone to talk to.

She bumped into Mikasa.

“Annie,” Mikasa said, “can you believe this?” she asked, pointing a finger over her shoulder, where Jean and Pieck were still receiving congratulations and hugs.

“It was a surprise, I didn’t see it coming,” Annie said honestly, before she leaned forward and whispered, “they’ve been dating for… what? Two years?”

“A year and a half,” Mikasa corrected, “but, it’s not about dating for a year or ten, if you find them, you’ll know, deep down you’ll know.”

Annie didn’t know how to respond, so she awkwardly swiped her feet on the carpeted floor.

“Besides,” Mikasa continued, a small smile pulling at her lips, “you never know who's next,” then she winked and turned.

A layer of cold sweat suddenly coated Annie’s hands, she wiped them on her dress, before she blew air, fanning her hands in front of her face, feeling suddenly hot.

A few feet away, Mikasa’s smile only grew wider.

~~~~

The party stretched into the late evening hours. The newly engaged couple in the spotlight, talking about marriage, and answering a few awkward questions about kids.

Annie held her grounds and didn't talk to Armin yet, she tried to not glance at him, only stealing glimpses of him every now and then, whipping her head away if she accidentally met his eyes.

He would look away and bite off a smile. 

If they were in their cabin, she would've probably hugged him from behind, kissed the spot between his shoulder blades, then rubbed her forehead against his back, until he turned around and kissed her lips.

She would show him the words she wished she could speak.

But at that moment, they were surrounded by dozens of people, and that tied their hands behind their backs.

It didn't help that Annie looked spectacularly beautiful. And that hair clip that Hitch gave her… it suited her too well, as if it was made specifically for her.

His eyes followed her when she turned her back, watching every move of her hands, fingers.

Suddenly, at the center of the room, Jean was pushed by Connie, whistles erupting from the crowd, as Jean knelt on one knee, pulling a red velvety box.

Pieck threw her head back and laughed. He already proposed before, but he wanted to make it official with everyone as a witness.

Connie shushed the guests, and everyone held their breaths.

“Uh,” Jean started, and Pieck giggled. He took a deep breath, cleared his throat, and started again, “Pieck-”

“Yes!” Pieck squealed, crouching down to him, pulling him from his collar into a kiss.

He was taken aback, almost falling. Laughter emitted from around the room with a couple of awww’s and aah’s.

Soon enough, Pieck and Jean were on their feet, sliding rings around each other’s fingers.

Armin watched and smiled, his hand dabbed on his pocket, tracing the ridges of a small circular metal.

He sighed, closed his eyes for a second.

When he reopened his eyes, Annie vanished from his sight.

As if earth split and swallowed her whole.

At first, his eyebrows frowned, searching for her, but then, he stood up, walked around the living room where the small party was held.

He ignored his worries for a minute, but then they could no longer be ignored.

He spotted Mikasa on a couch, he leaned closer to her and asked her if she saw Annie.

She pointed with her thumb at a door.

Armin had been to Mr. Leonhart's house many times before, and he knew where that door led, to a small corridor with multiple doors on each side of it.

And there he stood, after he closed the corridor's door behind him, trying to choose which door to open.

The door right in front was Mr. Leonhart's bedroom, of that he was sure, and the door to the left was the guests' bathroom, but there were two doors to the right.

Maybe one room was the storage room, the other… the guests' bedroom? He couldn't remember.

So, he walked to it, then stilled.

He raised his fist to knock on the door, when it was suddenly opened-

He was dragged inside by his shirt, inciting a loud yelp from him. He almost tripped on his feet, but in a second, the door behind him was slammed shut, and he was pushed against the wall.

"What-"

But his words were swallowed as lips fell upon his, moving against him frantically.

He didn't have to open his eyes to know who that was, he memorized her lips as if they were his own.

So, without holding back, pushing questions to the back of his mind, his hands landed on her hips, caressing her back up and down, as he kissed her with equal passion.

He wanted to pull back, take a breather, and know what the hell was going on, this sudden change, but he was too lost in her taste. Her scent intoxicated his senses, as she pressed her frame into his, until there was not a hair-thin space between them.

"Annie," he moaned against her lips, his hands around her body firm, decided. The heat in his body inched closer to a risky line, a line that if he crossed, there won't be going back.

She panted, her breath coming in short huffs, she murmured against his lips, "Took you," a gasp, "long enough to notice that," a pause, "I was gone."

He squeezed her back, earning a sigh from her, "I can't guess, with your game."

"You're in trouble."

"Am I?"

She dipped her head under his chin, and kissed his neck, sucked and licked.

He arched his body into her, holding her tighter. Her nips were getting harsher, certainly a mark to leave for later.

She did this for him many times, stroked his weak spots, made him crumble on his spot. And she knew it, she just knew the effects she had on him.

He gave all of himself to her.

She made a humming sound from her throat that was far from quiet, and that was the last trigger for him.

In one swift motion, he switched their positions, locking her between himself and the wall, but she didn't mind, perhaps she didn't even notice, for she lurched forward, searching for his lips again.

He gently separated them, pushing her shoulders into the wall, her eyes forced open in question.

Her eyelid hooded over her eyes, lips glistened, and her cheeks dusted with rose pink, and he was this close to capture her lips again. Let everyone outside listen, let them hear, he didn't give a damn.

But the logical apprehensive person he was, he stopped himself.

"You're too loud," he whispered, panting.

"I'm not," she retorted.

To prove his point, he pressed his knee against her. She moaned, loud.

He raised an eyebrow at her, she turned her head, her face glowing red. But she wasn't to be stopped there, she wasn't done with him.

She knew him too well, learnt his weaknesses by heart.

She gently pushed him away, sighing in a way that meant ok whatever you win.

And so he turned away, headed to the door, but then he heard a zipper, followed by the quiet, unimpressive thud of clothes falling to the ground.

He closed his eyes, and sighed.

He was too scared to turn around, he knew exactly the sight he'd find if he turned around. 

If only she didn't know him that well.

She watched his back, the crisp white shirt snug around his shoulders, his trousers fitting him perfectly, she could almost feel his short hair on her fingers.

He clenched his fists, unclenched it, clenched it again.

One

Two

Three-

He turned around. Her smirk grew wider.

He found exactly what he imagined in his mind, his eyes falling to the red dress crumpled on the floor, up her legs, her thighs, her stomach-

And he didn't hold back, he marched the few steps separating them as he flung his arms around her, sparks going up his spine when his hands made contact with her bare skin, his lips moving against hers.

His hands went over the skin he was so familiar with, already knowing every ridge of her. Her skin turned a bright red in his fingers' trace, igniting a path of heat and desire.

She gave it back to him, running her fingers through his hair, sighing against his lips, massaging his shoulders.

He wondered how far they could go. The party was still going on, and the king-sized bed in the room tempted him enough. 

His hands went down, squeezing her hips, caressing her thighs-

Annie's breath hitched in her throat, Armin pulled back.

They heard footsteps.

"You locked the door," Annie whispered, hopeful.

He shook his head.

Her eyes widened.

The footsteps grew louder, and louder, until the door was flung open and-

"Oh, Annie."

"Hi Mikasa."

A beat of silence.

Mikasa scrutinized Annie, sitting on the bed, bare foot, her legs crossed.

"Um, is everything ok?" Mikasa asked, taking a step inside the room.

Annie nodded, "Perfectly fine, just needed to take a rest," Annie fanned her face with an open palm.

"Oh… um, we're having the cake, so, uh, I thought… have you seen Armin?"

"Hmmm?" Annie asked, her eyes briefly glanced at the spot concealed by the opened door. "Nope."

"Oh, ok," Mikasa took a step backwards, "well, um, if you wanna join-"

"Sure I'll be there in a minute," Annie answered.

"Ok," Mikasa turned away, closing the door, but before it was completely shut, she reopened it again, "oh and Annie?"

"Yes?"

"Um, just make sure to, uh, your dress, ok?" Mikasa tugged at her collar, before she went out, and closed the door.

Annie looked down at her dress-

Inside out.

She wore it inside-out.

She heard his muffled laughs, and when she looked at him, he had his hand on his mouth, as he crumbled to the ground.

She took the pillow from the bed and threw it at him, to which he captured easily.

He walked to her, still in a fit of giggles, as he helped her out of her dress, leaving faint kisses on her skin.

She put it on again, making sure it was right, then Armin closed up the zipper, placed one single kiss at her neck.

~~~~

They made sure to leave the room separately, embarrassed enough that Mikasa almost caught them red handed. They didn't interact much nor did they get close to each other throughout the rest of the party, they knew that proximity would make them misbehave again.

Two hours went as slow as a snail.

They didn't want to be the first to leave, so they waited, and finally, Gabi and Falco's families called it a night.

They followed suit.

At the door, when Mr. Leonhart saw them out, he shook Armin's hand exceptionally firm, looked into his eyes as if he wanted to nonverbally communicate words to Armin.

Armin imagined tears in Mr. Leonhart's eyes. He probably got emotional after Pieck and Jean's engagement announcement, and perhaps, he imagined Annie in Pieck's shoes…

Armin swallowed.

It wasn't like he didn't think of the idea before, his hand briefly touching his pocket...

They left together, hand in hand, feet falling in sync as they made their way to their home.

Their steps got faster, in a hurry, as they remembered why they wanted to leave in the first place.

Once the door closed behind them, they didn't wait to get to the bedroom. Hands frantically taking off each other's clothes, gripping at the fabric. Soon enough, their living room was adorned with a red dress and a white shirt.

But they made it to the bedroom, the springs of the mattress bouncing as they landed on it, gripping on each other, touching each other frantically.

Skin on skin. Armin ran his mouth all over her body, kissing, nipping, and sucking, tasting her, savoring the delightful taste of her. She moaned and squirmed, but his hands fixed her in her place.

Her hands failed to touch him, each time she tried to reach for him he would push her hands away, focusing on his work, and soon enough she gave up, letting him take her to places and show her sights she couldn't imagine seeing without his touch, without his tongue.

Pleasure took over her senses, her tongue knotted, only moans and groans leaving her mouth as she tried to not bounce on him and fix him in his place.

But he had his own pleasure while pleasuring her, like an honor. To touch Annie Leonhart, to be this intimate and close to her. He'd never waste a chance. His hand taking care of himself, trying to relieve some of the tension in his abdomen, while focusing on her.

The hand between his legs didn't go unnoticed by Annie. Watching him trying to pleasure himself while he took care of her…

She flailed her hands at him, and squirmed against his touches, and he gave up, letting her touch him like she wished.

And they were lost in a bundle of pleasure, moans, and gasps, setting their bodies to the rhythm of their hearts.

They gasped each other's names as they moved together, their movements getting sloppier and messier as they tiptoed towards the edge, which wasn't far off.

Tipping each other over the edge was like a challenge that both were determined to win. They tossed and turned, grinding, working themselves on each other.

Annie didn't hold back, her moans loud and almost embarrassing, but the louder she got the more enthusiasm Armin put in his act. It was a give and take of an intimate moment they only shared with each other.

When their motion got even more hectic, they knew they were close. And not long after, they were gripping on each other, groaning and whimpering, as they reached the end line. Pleasure inundated their senses as they rode down their high, lost in an ecstasy of bursting spasms all over their bodies and minds.

When their heartbeats calmed down, Armin was about to roll off her, but in one swift motion, she turned him around, clasping him between her thighs, not giving him a break, their night only starting.

She told him the things she wanted to do to him, loud and clear, as she tied her hair up in a bun, her hips dipping low enough to tease him but not enough to satisfy him. He listened, tried to contain himself, but then he broke. 

He arched his back and tried to touch her, but her fast reflexes caught his hands and pinned them above his head.

And so he couldn't do anything but curl his toes as she bewitched him with her touches, stroking him and skimming over his velvety skin. She made him shudder, and he crumbled underneath her and shivered when her touches became intense and ready to bring them to their second wave of ecstasy.

They were vulgar when it came to this, not shy in the slightest to express what they wanted and how they wanted it, and when Armin told her exactly what he desired, where he wished to be, she stilled, watching him apprehensively.

His blue eyes mended with the dark room around them, a dark ocean wave fueled with lust and desire, a look she didn't discover until she had him. 

She wasn't aware that her eyes matched his, dark and deep, with an addition to her chest turning pink.

She wanted what he wanted.

So she sat it in motion, intense and rough, fiery, and vigorous. She fixed him down when he tried to switch them, only to get more intense and wilder, and he submitted to her will, reaching his peak with increasing speed.

She bounced on his lap, and he laid there, bewitched with her body, skin, and the power she had on him. One touch and he would be on his knees, one command and he would beg for more.

The best part of it was that her bouncing only got more intense as she noticed his eyes scaling her body up and down. Usually he would kiss every part of her as praises fell off his tongue. She looked down at him, the only sounds leaving his mouth were lustful moans and groans. She had him beneath her, and they had plenty of time to go slow and be romantic, but the fire between her legs needed to be extinguished, and the solution was him.

She gasped, tumbling on Armin, dragging themselves into another explosion of pleasure, muscles contracting as their moans lingered, too sensitive. 

She rested her head on his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her waist. Their breathing calmed down to match a harmony of chests rising and falling, as they listened to each other's heartbeats.

Annie left a soft kiss on his chest before she rolled off him, landing beside him, resting her hand on his chest where she kissed him.

He closed his eyes, and Annie watched his face. She thought he was falling asleep and that they were done for the night. Well, her body was sore and eyelids heavy, and it was already past midnight.

Her eyelids started closing, when he suddenly opened his eyes. He looked at her, sleep drooping over her eyes, he smiled. He kissed her to wake her up a little.

"Annie," he called her name.

"I want to sleep," she said, nuzzling her head in his chest. 

He chuckled, kissing her forehead, "I need to ask you something."

At that, Annie woke up.

Sleep departed her eyes in a second, and she swallowed.

Could he ask…

No, no way, stop imagining stuff, there's no way he would-

"Are you sure this is the right time?" The question left her mouth before she pondered over it. After all, if he really wanted to ask that question, being in bed, naked, wouldn't be how she imagined it.

Maybe on a picnic by the beach, or under a tree, to get on one knee and-

"Are we… fine?" He asked.

Annie blinked.

"What do you mean?" 

"I mean… you know, are we fine?"

Annie understood his question from the very first time, it was just that… she expected something else.

"I… you don't think so?" She answered his question with a question, a part from her cursing herself for these far off imaginations.

"I just… want to make sure..."

"Armin, I'm here."

"I know-"

"Naked, literally, right beside you, and you think we're not?" She said, then she huffed, tugging the blanket closer to her chin.

"I know, I just..." He sighed.

"I'm… it was all so stupid," she said, "I shouldn't have… I don't think…" Annie tried to explain, but she couldn't finish one single sentence.

Armin knew Annie enough to know that expressing herself wasn't her best skill, so he said, "I understand, but I want to show you something."

With that, he swung his legs off the bed and started looking for his trousers.

He cursed when he remembered that they were in a hurry and in fact, his trousers were in the living room. And so he left the bedroom, when he came back, with the trousers in his hand, he found Annie laughing.

"What is it?" He asked, a smile on his face as he heard Annie's contagious laugh.

"It's just funny that you're running around the cabin like that," she said, laughing again, as she pointed at him.

He didn't have to look down to know what she meant, he had nothing to cover his lack of modesty, and he couldn't help but laugh at Annie's childish joke.

The mattress dipped where he sat next to Annie, who propped herself on one elbow, watching him searching in one of his trousers' pockets. His eyes lit up when he touched something.

He turned to Annie and smiled, "Close your eyes."

She raised an eyebrow.

He chuckled, "Close your eyes, come on."

Annie sighed and closed her eyes, trying to ignore the rapid beating of her heart.

She felt him get closer, his scent all around her. Warm fingers circled around her neck, and she found herself pressed against his chest. His fingers worked on something behind her neck, and after a moment, he leaned back, leaving something cold dangling on her skin.

She waited for him to tell her to open her eyes, but he was way too lost in her, mesmerized by her. She laid on her side, propped on her elbow, blanket covering up to her waist. The blue moonlight soothing her face, caressing the blonde strands, framing her face like a painting in a museum, delicate and careful. Her eyes closed, pink lips and cheeks dusted with a lighter shade of pink. 

His eyes traveled down to her neck, where it glistened with dried sweat, and he could almost taste her, the softness of her neck's velvety skin conserved on his tongue.

The draping of the thin blanket on her body emphasized her curves, the dip in her hip, the curves of her thighs, adding a layer of soft edges to her, like a fluffy cloud in the sky. 

He could gaze at her for the rest of his life.

With an addition to the necklace around her neck.

Armin held his breath and whispered, “Open your eyes.”

Her eyelids fluttered open, blinking, before she touched around her neck.

Her fingers trailed upon a hair-thin chain, delicate, she looked down and-

A white, not bigger than a thumb nail seashell, dangled from the necklace. A simple seashell, really, white, shiny, but it took Annie’s breath away.

Her lips parted, she flipped the seashell in her hand, only to notice a writing inside it.

She glanced at Armin, who inspected her with an expecting look. 

Her eyes squinted as she read the small writing.

"AA," she murmured, she repeated it a few times, then looked up at Armin, only to see a red blush on his cheeks, as he fumbled with the rim of the blanket.

"You know," he said, "our initials, AA."

"Annie and Armin," she said, and she didn't know what else to say.

Annie's scrutinizing eyes worried Armin, maybe she thought of it as stupid, or she thought that he's just trying so hard for forgiveness.

"What does white mean?" She asked, looking into his eyes.

"Hmm?"

"The seashell is white, why did you choose a white one?" She elaborated, the tips of her fingers still around the seashell.

"Oh..." He was taken aback by her question, but then he smiled, inching closer to her. He placed one hand on her waist as he laid beside her, his face an inch away from hers.

He leaned closer, his lips beside her ear and whispered, "Safe." He kissed the tip of her ear, "Annie," he kissed her cheek, "safe," he kissed her nose, "you're my safe place, Annie."

The ocean rummaged in Annie's eyes, the waves mighty and mercilessly destructive, but when they met his, the vast ocean calmed.

She tilted her head up, capturing his lips. 

She tasted his smile as their jaws rolled together, lips connecting over and over again.

If she could, she would never leave his side, stay under the blanket with him, for he spread life into her veins, made her human again.

Her hands caressed over every inch of his skin she could reach, and she got closer, pressing her frame into his.

They fit perfectly together, pieces falling into place. They made each other whole, filling into the hollows of each other, soothing and healing.

His fingers traced her figure, caring, and he found it amusing, really, the capacity to have these emotions trapped in his heart, for he felt like exploding, and he wanted to let Annie know about these feelings, but he also knew Annie wasn't a woman of words.

His hands kneaded her back gently in question, and the heat that ignited in her body was the answer.

Their heat joined together, skin on skin, the blanket pushed to the edge of the bed, as their frantic moves started again, hands touching and caressing.

But that wasn't how she wanted it to go.

So she switched them, sitting on top, earning a gasp from him, then she gently pushed herself off him,

"Are you ok?" He asked, his cheeks red, and his heaving chest marked with her red fingers prints.

She hummed, before she leaned over him again, gently nipping at his neck, her hands on him light like a feather.

And he understood what she wanted, he smiled.

His hands mildly caressed her back, up and down, as she kissed his neck.

Their breathing calmed down, their thoughts easier to connect and comprehend, lust not interfering.

Not long after, Annie pulled away, rolling off him, onto her back. On his turn, he hovered over her.

When they went slow, he knew that she liked him over her, he knew that she liked it when his warmth inundated her, his body pressed into her.

He knew her.

He started with kissing her forehead, cheeks, nose, then ending with her lips, gentle, slow. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, sighed as his fingers trailed down her body.

Their touches soft and mild.

Just like their first time, on the boat, three years prior. When misery pushed tears out of their eyes, when they held each other for the first time, thinking it would be their last.

Their first time was soft, clumsy, but all the same, intense. They pleasured themselves through pain, confessed with regret lacing their voices. 

They never talk about their first time, for it brings tragic memories with it, but at those moments, when he was above her, surrounding her with warmth, they both remembered, but they never spoke of it.

They gasped as they moved, setting a rhythm to the harmony of the dark night, an unbreakable symphony of serenity.

He locked eyes with her, the necklace shiny as it shifted against the velvety skin of her neck. He moved and watched her face, contouring with bless. She tried to avert her eyes from him. The way he watched her made her abdomen clench and her face hot. 

But he wanted to look into her eyes.

And so he placed his elbows on each side of her head, trapping her beneath him. She sighed and looked into his eyes, the blush on her face only increasing.

But soon enough, she was too lost in his eyes to care about anything else. Giving him all of herself made her vulnerable, but with him, it was safe.

She trusted him with her life, and she trusted him with her heart.

He tiptoed them towards their pleasure, but it was different than earlier that night, slow and gentle. They took their time, their bodies too sensitive, eyes locked through it all.

They reached the edge together, Annie moaned, throwing her head against the pillow, but Armin captured her lips, swallowing down her delighted sounds.

It wasn't an explosion, something that went off inside of them within frantic hands and touches, it was more like a knot that was leisurely untied, threads loosening between soft fingers.

He bonelessly rested his weight on her, sweaty chests pressed against each other, and Annie was too tired to tell him to move.

"Another?" He joked and chuckled.

"I wish," she answered, her legs sprawled underneath him, then she nudged his shoulder.

"But I'm comfortable," He answered her nudge.

She rolled her eyes.

"I am, really," He continued, a smile in his voice, "it's warm and soft and-"

He accidentally moved, they both winced.

"Alright alright," he murmured, before he kissed her, slowly pulling out. She winced in his mouth, her thighs twitching, and he kissed her again reassuringly.

He rolled to the side, scooping her in his arms. She nuzzled her head in his chest.

A moment of silence passed while they listened to their heart beats.

"Thank you," she murmured, and when Armin looked at her, her eyes were barely open. He answered with a kiss on her eyebrow.

He watched her fall asleep in his arms, her breathing slowing. He rubbed a circle with his thumb on her skin, wondering how in the world he got to have Annie Leonhart.

His mind wandered to the trouser on the ground, inside it’s pocket sat a circular metal— a ring, adorned with one single shiny pearl. Tonight, he was supposed to get on one knee and ask her the question, but hesitance crawled in the last second and he maneuvered his way to his workshop, choosing to give her that white seashell necklace instead.

Tomorrow

He thought, as he hugged her closer, and drifted to sleep.

,

,

,

,

I’m so sorry for taking this long to post here, on tumblr

I just feel like the fandom is pretty much dead here....? I’m really not sure anymore

anyway, here’s the second chapter, I hope you enjoyed! feedback is much appreciated!!

#aruani #armin arlert #Annie Leonhardt #jeanpiku #Reihitch #reiner braun #hitch dreyse #jean kirschtien #pieck finger #aot #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk #fanfiction

[alecmagnuslwb]

Marriage is a Contract and My Signature is Unreadable

Read on AO3

John’s never seen a bride wear fishnets with their stunning white dress, but Dinah Lance is pulling it off somehow. Admittedly though John hasn’t seen that many brides that weren’t ghosts or the earthly demonic embodiment of some sort of hell beastie so maybe his experience in weddings and bridal wear is a bit skewed.

Of course he’s also a bit skewed because in his eyes no one at this wedding, not even the bride no disrespect to the woman who’s by far one of the few supers he can truly say he likes, is as stunning as his date. Zatanna sits beside him at their table, the reception in full swing now, her legs crossed the deep navy-blue asymmetrical dress she’s wearing showing off a tantalizing bit of her leg. Her tattoo, the twin to his peeks out from the front of the dress right next to the silver lining at the edges where the dress straps around her neck. She’s a fucking vision his Zatanna.

“I can’t believe they finally did it,” Zatanna says gliding her silver French tipped nails with little crescent moons on them along her glass of champagne. “I really thought Lois and Clark would be the only ones to take the plunge.”

Supers aren’t known for tying the knot, their world is so complicated and their relationships so wild they never find the time to actually get around to it. The fact that Dinah and Oliver managed to not only successfully get engaged, but plan a real wedding and have the ceremony without any major incidents happening in the middle is a miracle if John’s ever actually seen one.

“Who do you think’ll be next?” John says surveying the room. Every hero he’s ever met and ever butted heads with is here out of costume and all dressed up to the nines. There’s a congregation of Green Lantern’s by the bar, Superman is on the dance floor poorly attempting to floss as Nightwing laughs his fine ass off at him, the Flash is somehow dancing with his girlfriend and eating every item on the buffet simultaneously.  “Seems like two in a row will make a domino effect, yeah?”

Zatanna hums in thought her piercing blue eyes with the glittery navy blue and silver eyeliner around them shimmering in the light as she tilts her head in thought. She carefully scratches at the space beside the cluster of tiny rhinestones artfully placed around her right eyebrow and settles her eyes to a table across the room with a smile.

“Wally and Linda for sure,” she says tilting her head their direction. John swivels to look at them. Unlike Barry who’s still zooming back and forth from Iris to the buffet, Wally is wholly engrossed in every movement Linda makes as she talks rapidly her hands moving all about as she speaks to Mia Dearden on the other side of the table. That is a man wholly in love, enraptured by the woman he gets to call his own. John understands the sentiment as he looks back to Zatanna her dark blue painted lips still resting in a beautiful smile.

“What if it was us?” John asks leaning in closer to her a wicked smile on his face.

Zatanna snorts, a harsh indelicate thing that on anyone else would be unattractive.

“Aww, love you too, Zee,” John says faux offended falling back against his chair. He knew it was an absurd suggestion the moment he said it.

“I’m sorry, you know I love you,” she says holding up a hand attempting to hide her laughter. “It’s just look at us, we’re coming up on our first and only three-year anniversary. We’re not exactly known for being good at this.”

It’s a valid point. Despite the fact they have technically been together for over a decade they’ve gone through their fair share of ups and downs, break ups and make ups and even a few trips to hell and literal deaths. John has screwed up more times than he can count and even Zatanna has bungled it once or twice. Complicated has at almost all times been their relationship status, but the past three years, ever since John got his head out of his ass and finally decided to sort out this one particular aspect of his life they’ve been good, solid.

“Okay, true, but you’re stuck with me and we can’t act like there aren’t benefits to the whole marriage sham,” he says stretching his arms behind his head.

“It’s extremely comforting you called it a sham,” Zatanna says giving him a fondly exasperated look. “But you know maybe you’re right the tax incentives alone are a real benefit.”

“Now, the tax incentives would be appealing if I had ever in my life filed my taxes,” John says with a laugh.

“You’ve never filed taxes?” Zatanna says with a slightly startled look.

John just shrugs tossing back the remainder of his champagne. “It’s not like I’ve ever had any real upstanding type of job that would require me to fill out a W4 or whatever.”

“It’s a W2,” Zatanna corrects. “And John you live with me, our landlord made me put your name on the lease because he saw you there so much. You could totally get caught.”

“Eh, it’ll be fine,” John says with an unconcerned wave of his hand. “The fact that I’m not technically a citizen of this country is probably a bigger issue than the tax thing anyway.”

“John!” Zatanna exclaims with a laugh.

“What? You can’t have thought I actually went to a baseball park and held my hands up and did the national anthem or whatever,” he says kicking his feet up on the empty chair next to him.

“Clearly you haven’t considering that’s not at all how citizenship works,” Zatanna chuckles. “But hey there’s a potential benefit of marriage for us, citizenship.”

“Ah the romance of marrying not for love, but so the government pricks don’t send your ass packing,” John reaches out a hand tangling his fingers with Zatanna’s on the table his thumb running small circles into her hand.

Zatanna hums. “I guess lack of romance aside it wouldn’t matter since I can always just portal you back into the country on a whim anyways.”

John nods in agreement trying to come up with another benefit they might be able to actually take advantage of. “You couldn’t testify against me in court, that could be incredibly useful down the line.”

Zatanna raises one jeweled eyebrow, “Is there a crime you’ve committed lately you’ve neglected to tell me about?”

John thinks for a moment genuinely scanning his memories in case there is something he forgot to tell her about. “No,” he settles on confidently. He’s pretty sure at least. “I’m just thinking in general considering my track record in the past.”

Zatanna pats the top of his hand with a smile. “As if any prison could hold you long enough for me to even be asked a single question.”

John just laughs again, “Alright so maybe there aren’t that many marital benefits for us to take advantage of then.”

“No parents to satisfy,” Zatanna sighs. “And of course making medical decisions for one another doesn’t really matter when you use magic and superhero doctors that definitely don’t accept any sort of co-pay,” she adds on with a contemplative bite of her lip.

“Half your friends hate me,” John says thoughtfully with a chuckle.

“And half your friends are dead,” Zatanna says ruefully tapping a nail to her chin. “The wedding party would be abysmally uneven.”

“I haven’t bought a new tie in years,” John says tugging at the red thing around his neck. He looks hilariously basic compared to Zatanna’s ensemble essentially wearing what he wears any given day of the week the only difference being Zatanna had forced him into a subtly lace patterned black jacket for a change and repainted his chipped nails for the first time in two weeks. “It’d make the pictures look horribly out of place.”

“Plus let’s be real I’m a show woman, I’d probably hate having to share the spotlight with you for one day,” Zatanna smiles teasingly. John smiles back shifting so that he’s scooting his chair closer to hers. He lifts a hand to her face twisting a long dark hair that’s slipped from her twisty updo held in place by two sharp silver hair pins with crescent moons at the end to match her nails and tucking it back behind her ear.

“So, basically there’s not a benefit in this world or a thing that would change if we got married,” John says letting the silky hair go.

“The only thing I can think of is that I like shiny jewelry and you look hot when you wear silver rings,” Zatanna says reaching back and pulling the two pins from her hair letting it all fall across her shoulders, the one stand out streak of navy blue appearing as it falls.

“And we can buy each other jewelry anytime without a reason,” he says brushing the bit of hair that’s fallen into her eyes away.

Zatanna smiles at him once before standing holding out a hand that he instantly takes. She guides him to the dance floor twining her fingers behind his head slowly.

They sway slowly to some sappy love song John vaguely recognizes their eyes locked on one another.

“You know,” she says after a while her fingers pulling through the hair that’s getting a bit too long at the base of his neck. “Just because I don’t want to get married doesn’t mean I don’t want you for as long as I can have you, right?”

He does know that. It’s inexplicable to him why someone as bright and vibrant and good as her wants him, but she does and he intends to keep it that way till the demons or the cigarettes kill him.

“I know. I’m happy how we are, knowing us, and by us I mean me, marriage would end up mucking everything up anyways,” he says pulling her in closer his hands moving from their grip on her waist to the exposed small of her back. “We can just keep going to everyone else’s weddings and raiding their open bars.”

Zatanna laughs then leans up kissing him once soft and slow not even smudging her lipstick in the slightest. She stays close when she pulls back resting her head on his chest as they continue to sway.

“We really need to get your name off of my lease though, I don’t need the government showing up and trying to audit me,” she says softly. “I’d be a nightmare for Mistress of Magic brand.”

John laughs loud and bright leaning his head down to kiss her once atop the head already planning a minor break in to the landlord’s apartment. It’ll be okay if he gets caught, married or not he knows she won’t testify against him.

#my fic #johnzee #john constantine #zatanna zatara #writersmonth2021

[missnmikaelson-main]

The Forgotten: Blood Moon Rising Chapter 3

He lounged in his chair, allowing it to turn from side-to-side as he surveyed the boy who that found his way into the office. His height bordered on the edge of lanky. As he sat his long fingers fidgeted, shoving shoulder length brown hair out of dark eyes. The aristocratic features held an air of familiarity, but he couldn’t quite place the boy’s face.

As he watched the boy’s hands dropped, tapping over his thighs.

“Where exactly did you come from?” Alaric tilted his head, taking pity on the boy.

“I… uh…” he rubbed his hands over his pants, “I doubt you would believe me.”

“You have walked into a school for the supernatural of which I am the headmaster,” he straightened up, tapping the desk with his pen. “I have been witness to the impossible for nearly twenty years, and that was before my daughters were magically implanted in their mother. There is very little I wouldn’t believe. Now why don’t you tell me where you came from? It’s not every day that we do a headcount of students and come up with an extra body.”

“Would you believe that I was dead yesterday, Dr. Saltzman?” He met the man’s eyes. “Or is that stretching your tolerance too far?”

“This is New Orleans,” Alaric’s eyebrows rose, “people have a tendency to not stay dead in this city. I suppose that means you’re a witch, then?”

“How did you…?”

“Dead yesterday, and alive today?” He tilted his head. “Alive today after a blood moon rose over the city.”

“For those who know how to use it the blood moon is a powerful celestial event,” he lowered his eyes. “I seized the opportunity to return to the land of the living, but time has passed and I… I find I no longer know this world.”

“Judging by your clothes you’ve been dead a long time,” Alaric joined his fingers together, glancing at the wool trousers. There was something the boy was hiding, but he couldn’t figure out what it was.

“Are you going to make me leave?” He inhaled sharply, pushing his hair behind his ear.

“We’re not in the business of turning away children in need,” Alaric opened his desk drawer and pulled out a couple of forms, “besides, if I don’t let you stay where are you going to go?” He smiled gently and clicked open his pen. “Let’s start with your name.”

++++

A few strands of hair caught on her lip gloss as she tilted her head to balance the phone between her shoulder and ear; her fingers itched to brush it aside, but her grip on the awkward pile in hand meant the hair was doomed to tickle her skin.

"So somebody broke into the crypt?" She hoisted her supplies higher, muttering under her breath: "I swear, one of these years I'm going to take advantage of winter break."

"You say that every year, darling,” Kol lowered the air conditioner.

"If you can remember that you can remember to remind me of it,” she rolled her eyes. "And yes, I know you did. Do you think the break in had anything to do with the elemental typhoon last night?"

"I think there's a chance it wasn't a break in."

"What do you mean?" Elena pushed the mansion door open with her hip, pausing in the entry.

"Why don't I meet you for brunch after your first class and I'll explain."

"Alright, I love you."

"I love you."

She heard the clicks, signifying the end of call, and wiggled her shoulder until the phone settled on the top grimoire.

She swayed, trying to realign her burden.

"Do you require assistance, ma'am?"

"Oh please don't call me ma'am,” Elena grimaced, “it makes me feel old."

"Sorry,” the boy cleared his throat.

"Aren't you over a century old?"

"Erik Mikaelson,” she fixed her son with a mock glare, "just because you're back at boarding school doesn't mean I won't ground you. Who's your new friend?"

"This is Henry,” Erik gestured to the boy with shoulder length hair, "he's new. Henry, this is my mom, she teaches spell science and traveller magic."

"And Kemiya to the upper years,” Elena smiled. She looked Henry up and down as her eyes drew together. "I didn't know we were expecting any new students. It's nice to meet you, Henry, and thank you,” she shook her head, nodding down, “but I've got this; I'll let you get back to your tour."

"See you in class, mom."

Elena nodded once and then took off down the hall for the spell labs. She picked the pace when she heard a loud bang, hastening towards the plume of violet smoke..

++++

Stefan surveyed the damage again, getting one final look at his car’s ruined window.

"Do you two wanna be left alone?" Lexi placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. It was difficult to make the gesture reach her eyes. He had an unhealthy obsession with the Porsche; she suspected he was more upset about the car than the 'Damon-kabob'.

"She’ll be good as new by the time we get there,” Damon sighed, leaning his hip against the new car Stefan had insisted on. "And if we wanna get there by nightfall we've gotta go."

"Are windows like that even legal?" Lexi moved, pressing her palm to the dark glass.

"Depends on the state," he crossed his arms. His voice took on a sing song tone. "If luck is on my side then they won't work and you'll be a pile of ash by the freeway."

"Damon!"

"Nothing against you, babe,” he slid into the car.

"If feels like it.” She opened the back door and made herself comfortable, pushing some heavy blankets aside; if necessary they would shield her from the sun. She waited for Stefan to get in before leaning over the centre console, turning the back of her head on Damon. "Where exactly are we going because this doesn't feel permanent, and I really don't want to spend my limited time in a confined space with the dick that killed me."

"It wasn't personal,” he grumbled, turning over the ignition.

"Can it, Damon!” She drove her elbow back, cracking a rib.

"I don't want you spending what little time you have in the dark,” Stefan grinned, nudging her with his shoulder. "You are going to feel the sun on your face again, and if I have my way,” he squeezed her hand, "this will be permanent."

"You got some powerful witch up your sleeve?” She snickered.

"I got a couple who owe me a pretty big favour,” his smile threatened to split his face, "Damon doesn't want to see them."

"He turned my bones to dust last time."

"I love him already,” Lexi smirked.

"Kol will leave you alone as long as you don't flirt with or antagonize either of them.”

++++

Erik led the way over the yard, pointing to each place as he explained the purpose of them. So far they had visited the stables, greenhouses, and dorms and were now on the final leg of the outdoor tour.

"This is the field," he followed the edge, “we play all sorts of sports, but the school favourite is Wickery. It was a joint project between my mom and aunt Caroline, and it's the closest you're ever gonna get to real life Quidditch."

"Quidditch?” Henry frowned, tasting the unfamiliar word on his tongue.

"Yeah, you know," he prompted, "the famous game from Harry Potter? What rock have you been living under?"

"One that kept me ignorant of popular culture," he drawled, rolling his eyes.

The gesture was achingly familiar.

"I didn't mean anything by it,” he held out his hands. “I tend to speak before thinking sometimes, Mom says I get it from Dad."

"I have a couple of brothers like that,” Henry chuckled.

"You have brothers?" He started walking backwards, leading the way to the mansion.

"I have four brothers, and two sisters."

"Woah,” his jaw dropped. "That's gotta be chaotic. I've got one sister and three cousins, and Christmas is crazy."

"A lot of them are older, so it wasn't that bad, but I haven't seen any of them in a long time.” He smirked, and when he spoke again it was in a tone Erik knew and didn't. "I doubt they even remember what I look like."

"Oh," he frowned. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be,” he waved a hand. “It wasn't anyone's fault. Sometimes things happen and you end up at a school you never thought you'd be at. How'd the school get here anyway?"

"Josie tells this story better,” he warned, "but I'll give it a try.” He turned around when Henry nodded and laid his hand on the deck.

“Long ago the mansion belonged to the old governor before my family took possession of it. It sat untouched for a long time until Eve and Hope were ready to start school.

"Mom wanted them to have a normal experience with other kids, but everyone agreed normal school was out of the question. And since nobody wanted them to stifle who they were Mom and Dad teamed up with my aunts and uncles and the only educator they actually knew. Within a year they opened the Mikaelson Boarding school.

"It grows every year, and my family takes turns funding. This year it's Uncle Elijah."

"That was pretty good."

"Jo still tells it better,” he shrugged. "Come on, I'll show you the classrooms."

++++

"Do you think my dad's mad?” Eve stared at her petri dish, mesmerized by a swirling path her stir stick created through the thick gel.

"No way," Hope tilted her own dish. scrutinizing the contents. “Uncle Kol yells when he's mad."

"He didn't yell when we caused that explosion and knocked a gaping hole in the kitchen wall,” she chewed her bottom lip. "Or that time I switched out spell ingredients without telling him and the table melted.” She hadn't known wood could react like that. "I don't think my dad's ever yelled at me – except for that time when I was crossing the street and a car came out of nowhere, but that was more a yelling at the driver thing."

"I don't think he's mad."

"He confined us to the school; we're effectively grounded."

"Well, you are,” she smirked. Her smile faltered when her phone buzzed. "And now I am too."

"Your dad?” She sat down her dish.

"And mom."

"So he's mad," Eve snatched up a scalpel. “Why else would our grounding have no end in sight?"

"Maybe...” Hope lowered her voice to a whisper. "He wanted us safe. The school has wards, and that ring... that ring shook him up.”

Hope unbuttoned her sleeve, rolling up her sweater and the white shirt to expose her wrist.

"And I know you don't want to admit it, but you're happy to be back here because what happened shook you."

"Alright everybody,” Elena clapped her hands for their attention, "pick up your scalpels and turn to your lab partner. Draw a shallow cut over their wrist then administer your gel; if you've done your job right then the wound will heal."

Hope hissed along with half the class when the blade was drawn over her skin.

"Do you think he told mom?” Eve dropped her scalpel and caught a dab of the gel, carefully wiping it over the cut.

"I think we'll know when he does." The gel cooled and her skin knit together underneath. "Confining us to school feels like half a punishment. Aunt Elena will have something more to add."

"What precisely will I be adding to Hope?"

The girls gasped, spinning on their stools to find Elena's sparkling eyes watching them.

"Nothing,” Eve's eyelids fluttered.

"You inherited your deceitful skills from me, Eve Freya Mikaelson,” she tilted her head. "I assume your father will have a fair bit to add to your 'nothing'."

Eve and Hope exchanged a look, knowing from experience that it was better to come clean; typically it knocked a week off the overall punishment.

"We snuck out last night,” she held her hands in her lap.

"I was restless..."

"And we knew Lafayette would be empty."

"Mom?"

"Are we in trouble?"

Elena stared at both of them, eyes flickering back and forth.

"Somebody could have been hurt."

Hope dropped her eyes.

"If you feel like that you should tell us; we can find a place for you to run where nobody will see. Don't listen to your cousin all the time; her impulsivity comes from her dad." Elena waited for them to nod and then held out her hands. "Cell phones."

"That's it?" Eve frowned, placing her phone in her hand.

"Of course not,” Elena smirked as the girls spun back around. She wrapped her arms around their shoulders and leaned forward to place her head between them. "You two are gonna come back here every day this week after dinner..."

"Mom, no; please?” Eve’s eyes widened. Her horror was reflected in Hope's gaze.

"And you're going to clean and reorganize the spell science cupboard."

"B-b-but...” Hope thought about the decade of disorder and various ingredients. "We came clean."

"That's why I'm not making you do the attic." Elena kissed their temples, humming softly. "I'm glad you're safe."

They shuddered as she left the table.

"Do you... uh...” Josie tiptoed up to their table. "still need a volunteer?" She held out a clean scalpel to Hope.

++++

The Tudor mansion sprawled out over lush green, popping out of the trees as if from nowhere. She stared at the towering structure and crossed her arms.

"Your friend seems to have done well for himself."

"I don't know about that,” Ariadne smirked. "He was buried alive in the sixteenth century."

Mary-Alice stiffened, whirling around to glare. Her fingers tugged at her sleeves, covering her exposed wrists.

"You said he disappeared."

"He did,” Ariadne skipped up the driveway and ran her finger over the hood of a blue Camaro. "He disappeared when he was desiccated and buried alive. Is he inside or on the property? Where do we start digging?"

“I gave you a location,” she pulled the map from her pocket, hating the way the trousers clung.

"Stop fidgeting? You look ridiculous.” She pulled out a small black box and surveyed the map, punching a few buttons.

"I feel like a whore in these clothes,” she fingered the denim. “Why couldn't I wear my own?"

"Because that monstrosity made you stick out like a sore thumb."

"But why must women in this century dress like prostitutes?" She sneered at Ariadne's blouse, revealing her collarbone and a hint of cleavage.

"Times are changing,” she crumpled the map. "Personally I find the lack of a corset freeing, and the twenty-first century has many marvels."

She started toward the house, following a blinking arrow on the black box’s screen.

++++

“Let me see if I've got this straight?" Lizzie passed off a glowing ball of swirling energy to her twin, “you thought sneaking out on a full moon. after an earthquake was a good idea?"

"Nobody was gonna be out there.” The ball grew, taking on a red tint.

"Keep the energy positive guys," MG frowned at the magic. "The book says it should stay blue."

"Someone could have been hurt,” Hope took the ball. The size and colour fluctuated as it passed between her hands. "I could have hurt someone."

"You didn't,” Eve groaned. The ball flared, resembling a supernova where it floated between her spread palms. "Don't doubt your control because you're bloody awesome. Mom just worries. Dad didn't say anything."

"Uncle Kol got distracted by how upset you were..."

"Uh... guys..." MG's voice wavered.

The spell fluctuated, further losing it's structural integrity.

" ... and that creepy guy who attacked you..."

"I had it handled!" Eve's heart hammered. Heat licked her fingers as anxiety fed the spell.

"That's why you spent an hour shaking and clinging to a werewolf," Hope drawled. "Uncle Kol didn't see it, but he could see that you were scared."

"I wasn't scared,” her voice cracked.

"You were,” Hope shoved her fingers through her hair. "That's the onl..."

The spell released, knocking four young witches flat. They groaned, sitting up on elbows.

"I really thought I'd be the one to screw that up,” Lizzie grumbled, flipping blonde hair from her face. 

“Is everyone okay?" Josie got to her knees and cast her eyes around the yard. "MG?"

"I'm good,” his voice called out from a flower bed.

Eve surveyed the damage she could see - flattened grass, broken branches and a toppled fountain. She flopped back, covering her face with her hands.

"I think I'm a little shaken," she swallowed, listening to her heart race.

Hope shuffled closer and wrapped her arm around Eve's middle.

"I know. I'm sorry."

Eve closed her eyes, lowering her hands to her belly. She could see the way he had looked at her - feel the way he had touched her.

"He looked at me like I was some kind of prize, and not in a good way."

"There's a good way?" Josie stretched out on her other side.

"Yeah,” Eve sighed. "Like how my parents look at each other sometimes, or how Uncle Nik looks at your mom."

"Like they can't believe they got so lucky,'' MG sat above their joined heads.

"I want someone to look at me like that,” Lizzie sighed, stretching out next to Josie.

"Not the way this guy was,” Eve shuddered. "It was like..."

"Like he wanted to consume you," Hope finished. “Nobody's gonna hurt you, Evie."

"And anyone who tries has to go through all of us,” Lizzie swore.

"We got your back, E,” MG squeezed her shoulder.

"Thanks,” she smiled, sniffing. "So,” she smirked, “does that mean you're all gonna help us with the storage cupboard."

"Evie, we love you," Josie kissed her cheek, “but no.”

++++

"Okay,” Erik recapped, counting off on his fingers. "The dining hall, administration and library are on the ground floor. Second floor has your standard normal classes, and supernatural courses are divided between there and the top floor. There are a couple of hidden rooms Uncle Nik turned into study spaces. Do you want to see my favourite?”

++++

Elena flipped through lab book after lab book, rapidly checking off correct answers and making short notes in the margins. Everyone passed the lab portion of their pop quiz, but the theory required a little work.

Two weeks off for holidays and everyone seemed to have forgotten a semester's worth of teaching. She anticipated intense study sessions in preparation for exams.

January promised strung out teenagers.

Even Eve and Hope's reports lacked coherent thought.

She flipped over her phone, reading the incoming message.

Kol: Did you forget about me?

She smirked, tapping out a quick response as she stood and reached for her purse.

Elena: I'm not sure. Remind me who this is again.

Kol: I think you know.

Elena: oh?

Kol: Dashingly handsome. Exceedingly debonair...

Elena: is this the insanely conceited guy that sleeps next to me every night?

Kol: conceited?

Elena grinned, taking off at a run, slowing when she reached the alley and sauntering to the cafe.

"Conceited?" He cocked an eyebrow, lifting his chin for her kiss.

"You spent more time getting ready for the New year's party than I did,” she slipped into the seat across from him, "and Bekah dragged me off for manicures."

Her eyes narrowed when he didn't immediately quip back with how she agreed that he was ridiculously good looking.

"What's wrong? Is it the crypt?"

"No,” he reached into his jacket pocket. "I can handle my parents possibly being alive on the streets of New Orleans," he ignored her shocked expression. "I've accepted their hatred, and mother's inability to stay dead. This is what worries me."

A ring wobbled on the table.

"A daylight amulet?" She picked it up. "Why do I recognize it?”

“Eve took it off a vampire who attacked her this morning." He covered her hand before she could interrupt. “There is a very descent chance the dead are rising. And a man who hates us both targeted our child because that ring belonged to Stavros."

She felt her head shake, impossibility was the denial on her tongue, but she knew her husband. He would see her impossible and raise with their children. Loopholes existed in nature, exploited at every opportunity by anyone with the power; some would have done it just to prove they could.

Sad to say, not every witch respected the natural world they were sworn to protect.

Their waitress walked up, thrusting her hips forward as she stopped at the table and batted her eyes.

"What can I get'cha, suga?” She flashed a bright grin at Kol.

He knew Elena was lost in thought when she made no comment on the girl's obvious flirtation. He was in no mood to torment her, or deal with Anna's inconsiderate nature.

"I'll have the eggs Benedict and coffee,” he examined the furrow between her brows and decided on her 'thinking food'. "Stuffed french toast and hot chocolate for my wife." He emphasized the last word, giving Anna a pointed look.

She clicked her pen closed and whirled toward the kitchen.

"How?” Elena closed her hand around the ring.

"After eighteen years I know you're favourite foods," he chuckled.

"Kol,” she sighed.

"Bad - if accurate - attempt at easing your nerves,” he rubbed her sensitive wrist, sobering fast. "Something happened during the blood moon, and I... I think the earthquake and... everything... may have been nature's way of fighting back.”

“Against the dead rising?” A chill swathed over her jiggling leg. “Did you see Stavros?” Warm metal cut into her palm.

“No, darling.”

“Then maybe you’re wrong,” she rubbed her lips together. “Maybe it was the Harvest girls screwing up a spell, or arguing over something trivial, and,” she raised a brow when she saw the flash of emotion in his eyes, “why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m so sorry, love.” He shook his head. “I didn’t want to tell you over the phone, but the Harvest Girls are dead. Only Davina survived.”

Sorrow, she decided; it was sorrow in his gaze. Or perhaps she was seeing a reflection of her eyes in his.

“What happened?”

“A vampire.”

“I want him found,” she spat. Pure, unadulterated rage raced through her veins.

“While I share your sentiment it wasn’t him,” he ran his thumb over her knuckles. “Davina said it was a woman, and that she was talking nonsense about fire and magic; she never saw her face.”

“Then I want both of them found.” Two spots of colour appeared high on her cheeks.

“I already tried to find Stavros,” he let go of her hand, leaning back as their food arrived. “There’s no sign of him.”

“Then maybe you are wrong.” Elena picked up her mug and took a sip of rich hot chocolate. A dollop of whipped cream stuck to her nose.

“Or a witch is helping him,” he swiped his thumb over her nose and sucked the whipped cream off. “Personally I’m hoping I’m wrong, since being right opens a door I’d rather not look through. Do you know how many people I’ve pissed off in the past millennia?”

“No idea,” she shook her head. Her fork stabbed her French toast. Fruit oozed out.

“Too many to count,” he reached for his coffee.

“Right or wrong,” she lifted her fork, “I want that woman put down and that man found so I can tear out his internal organs.”

Her eyes narrowed when he smirked.

“What?” She mumbled around a mouthful of French toast.

He grinned, nudging her foot under the table. “I love you."

++++

“I assume he’s looked better,” Mary Alice grimaced. She leaned over the open lid of the pine box and traced the vampire’s desiccated remains with the tip of her finger.

“He’ll look much better in a minute,” Ariadne grinned. Madness gleamed in her eyes.

Mary Alice’s finger twitched, raising up in warning.

“Relax honey,” she twirled around the box, gracefully pirouetting towards her dropped bag. “I brought some blood. Can’t have him accidentally killing you now, can I? Who would finish the ring?”

She moved backwards, standing against the rough wall with a stiff spine.

Ariadne opened the blood bag and pressed the tube against his lips, squeezing a few drops into his dry mouth. Slowly the bag emptied and colour returned to his sallow cheeks.

His brow crinkled and he opened his eyes, blearily focusing on her grinning face.

“Ariadne?” He croaked, reaching for the edge of his coffin.

“Hello, darling,” she tossed the empty blood bag over her shoulder. “Did you miss me?”

“You…” he broke off in a fit of coughs, lurching upright.

“Let me finish that thought for you,” she reached for a second bag of blood, opening it for him, “ravishing creature.”

He tore into the bag of blood, sucking it down fast. A healthy glow returned to his skin. “I was actually going to call you a bitch.”

“That’s no way to talk to the girl getting you a daylight ring,” she pouted. Her eyes sparkled.

“You,” he fought down a sardonic laugh as he climbed to his feet, “want to grant me a daylight ring?”

“I even brought a witch,” Ariadne perched on the edge of his coffin. “Mary Alice spelled the talisman for you.” As she spoke she toyed with her own amulet.

Mary Alice pulled a silver ring from her pocket. The large blue stone glinted in the dim light, reflecting in his wide eyes.

“You never do anything without expecting something in return,” he jumped out of the coffin, eager to be rid of it. “What do you want?”

“It’s quite simple,” Mary Alice spun the ring around her finger.

“All you have to do is seduce a pretty little thing and get her to show you mommy dearest’s grimoire,” she picked at a splinter in the wood.

“Get the girl to take out a thin silver dagger her mother sealed away,” Mary Alice tilted her head, “and bring it to me.”

“And you expect me to do all of this under the cover of night?” He turned his head, eyeing them both.

“Don’t be silly,” Mary Alice tossed him the ring. “You’ll use that.”

“What’s to stop me taking this and running?” He cocked an eyebrow.

“The spell is temporary,” she resisted the urge to tug at her clothes. “I’ll make it permanent when you deliver your end; you have a week to get the doppelgänger’s dagger.”

“One week?”

“Don’t act so scandalized,” Ariadne waved one hand. “You always were a charmer and she is a naive girl. It’ll be a piece of cake. Now what do you say to me?” She sang, leaning forwards.

“Thank you?” He slipped the ring onto his finger.

“You…” Ariadne prompted, twirling a splinter between her fingers.

“Thank you Ariadne,” he rolled his eyes, “you ravishing creature.”

“Much better.”

++++

Hope towelled the worst of the water from her hair and dropped to sit cross legged on her bed, bouncing on the springs. She could still remember the first time she had slept at the school; it had taken a fair amount of convincing since someone always traveled from the compound to the campus every morning.

“Please don’t start jumping on the bed,” Eve flipped over a page and laid her hand on a sheet of paper.

“Do you remember when we were little,” Hope waved her hand, levitating her towel to its hook, “the first night we stayed in this room?”

“How can I forget?” She snickered, tapping the page. “You knocked me off the bed with a pillow. That was the first time I ever broke a bone.”

“You insta-healed,” she leaned back on her bed. “And what’s the fun of jumping up and down on the bed if you don’t whack each other around?”

“No fun at all.”

“Our parents were so mad,” Hope hugged a pillow to her stomach and reached for her brush.

“I remember mom crying,” Eve tilted head, seeing the scene as if it were happening. Her arm had healed at the wrong angle. “I think re-breaking it hurt her and dad more than it hurt me. Do you know that’s the only time I ever saw my dad cry?”

“Uncle Kol cried?” Hope winced and worked the brush through a series of knots.

“Yeah,” she pursed her lips. “Why are we talking about our first night here?”

“Because you’re flipping through that book.”

“It calms me,” Eve fingered another page. With each new page she catalogued the contents, feeling the various forms of energy rise up through her arm.

“You might be the only person alive to find dark objects calming,” she rolled her eyes.

“They’re not calming, Hope,” Eve flipped another page, tracing an eight pointed star with her fingertip. “They’re anxiety inducing, but knowing that the dark magic is stuck where nobody can ever use it is calming.” She flipped the page again. “And sometimes the light objects are fun to take out and handle.”

“Is it working at least?” Hope tossed her brush aside. “Is your stolen property succeeding in calming you?”

“No, and neither did your nostalgia trip,” she smirked.

“I see,” she hummed, “I guess I’ll just have to resort to drastic measures.”

“Dr…” Eve broke off in a shriek, throwing her hands up as the pillow smacked her in the face. She sputtered, twisting her neck around to stare at her cousin. A beat of silence passed before a wicked twinkle entered her eyes. “Are you serious right now?”

Hope smirked, flashing white teeth.

“Oh…” Eve’s tongue poked out as she grinned, reaching for one of her pillows. “It’s on.”

++++

“Dammit, dammit, dammit,” Elena kicked the table, sending candles skittering across the floor.

“What about the Tibetan bowl?” Kol stomped on the edge of a curtain, smothering the flames before they could overtake the fabric.

“Two Original hybrids,” she stared out the window, watching the moon rise up, “and an ancient bowl is going to help?”

“Can’t hurt,” he wrapped his arms around her waist.

“What witch has enough power to block both of us together?” She laid her head back on his chest.

“A coven of them,” he closed his eyes, lowering his nose to her neck.

“Or maybe,” Klaus’ voice drew their attention from the window, “you can’t track the dead.”

“Now you’re on board with the dead theory?” Elena groaned, slumping in her husband’s hold. “I thought you were more sceptical than that. Your parents can’t exactly be considered the norm.”

“She has a point, Nik,” he sighed. “I didn’t actually see anyone dead, so the theory is unconfirmed.”

“Not anymore,” Klaus nodded his chin back towards the hall. “Confirmation has come to us.”

“What?” He lifted an eyebrow, adjusting his hold on her as she shifted.

“Elena has a visitor.”

The couple exchanged a look loaded with wary confusion before following Klaus out of the study.

“Who is it?” She slotted her fingers between Kol’s and squeezed, but Klaus didn’t get a chance to answer before they entered the living room. Her eyes snapped to the man by the fireplace and narrowed. “How does Stefan confirm anything?”

“You wanted something confirmed?” Stefan straightened up.

“Stefan is not the confirmation, right ripper?” Klaus smirked, dimples flashing. He circled around a leather couch, nodding to the person sitting there.

The woman placed one hand on the arm and rose, spinning around to face them. A bright smile lit up her round face as she squealed and raced to wrap Elena in a tight hug.

Her hands came up on instinct, wrapping around her back even as her spine stiffened.

“Lexi?” She breathed, dazed as the vampire let her go.

“Yeah,” she nodded fast, “I’m sorry. I know we were never that close.”

“It’s not that.” She shook her head.

“It’s what your presence implies, love,” Kol placed a hand on the small of Elena’s back, rubbing circles over her spine.

“I’m not entirely sure what that means,” Lexi took a step back. She tilted her head, looking him up and down slowly. “Are you the vampire that turned Damon’s bones to dust?”

“I suppose I did do that,” his jaw clicked. “He had it coming.”

“No defence needed,” Lexi laughed, holding her hands palms out. “Damon always deserves an ass-kicking. And after what I heard you did, I think I might love you.”

Elena stepped into his side and placed a hand on his chest. She smiled, voice filled with laughter and a slight edge.

“Move on fast, sweetie. He’s taken.”

“By a very jealous woman,” Kol tipped his chin down and gave her hand a pointed look. “What are you doing here Lexi? Aside from resurrecting, I mean.”

“Stefan got it in his head that you two could make her a daylight ring.”

Kol whipped his head around, glaring daggers at the man as he stepped into the living room through an opposite door.

“You!” He snarled.

Elena’s possessive hand turned into a restraining one, halting her husband’s sudden march.

Elena strained against Kol while Damon took a hurried step backwards.

The retreat stopped when Damon dropped to his knees and gripped his head. He grunted. Blood vessels burst in his eyes.

“Kol!” Elena spun in front of him, cutting off his sight line. Behind her Damon’s pained grunts cut off. “What have I said about hurting my friends unprovoked?”

“He draws breath in my presence,” his glared burned over the top of her head. He had never forgiven Damon for his attempt to steal Elena away, or his implication that their unborn daughter was something to fix. “That’s provocation enough.”

“Are you gonna beat the shit out of him?” Lexi stepped aside with a giant grin, perching on the sofa’s arm. “Maybe finish what I started earlier?”

“Lexi!” Elena scolded. “Why are you provoking him?”

“I wanna see Damon get pummelled,” she shrugged. “He did kill me.”

“His existence is provocation enough.” Elena’s head snapped around to Klaus’ snickers.

“I’ve had that thought,” Stefan covered his laugh by lowering his eyes and clearing his throat.

“You two are not helping,” she groaned.

“What the hell did I do to tick you off?” Damon stopped in his tracks. Righteous indignation squared his shoulders.

Elena felt a strong desire to sob her frustration.

“Weren’t you listening mate?” Kol placed his hands on Elena’s shoulders, lifting her off her feet and setting her at his side. “You’re still breathing.”

“Breathing?” Damon scoffed. He threw up his hands, taking a foolish step forward. “I haven’t done anything to you.”

“You haven’t done anything?” Kol’s voice rose to a mocking falsetto. Only Elena’s hand on his elbow held him back. “You were going to help my mother kill every vampire on earth,” fire flashed in his eyes.

“To be fair,” Stefan gripped his brother’s jacket, holding him back, “I did that too.”

“You came around and helped,” Kol snapped. “He upset my wife time and time again, tried to steal her away and made a rather daring implication about my daughter. Not to mention nearly burning my brother alive.” He observed Damon critically and sneered. “I think I’ll feed you your own liver.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Damon smirked. “Didn’t you hit the reset button when Elena turned you?”

“Do you have a death wish?” Stefan sighed. He pinched the bridge of his nose, sensing a tension headache coming on.

“I can take him,” he tried to break Stefan’s hold. “That was all circumstantial.”

“What about what you did to Caroline?” Stefan muttered, but failed to keep his voice low enough.

“What the bloody hell did he do to Caroline?” Klaus’ eyes flashed gold.

Shit, Stefan flinched.

Elena shut her eyes, pressing her lips into a thin line.

Klaus repeated his question, louder as he took a menacing step. Black veins spidered across his cheekbones.

“Only Damon and Caroline know exactly what happened.” Stefan cleared his throat, hoping to save Damon Klaus’ wrath. He might have held his own against Kol for a few minutes, but Klaus would tear Damon apart and no amount of Elena’s pleading would stop him; Caroline might have been able to do it, but he doubted she would have even if she were present.

With any luck he would have Damon far, far away before Klaus got Caroline to talk.

“I just had a little fun with her while she was human,” Damon shrugged. He glanced at Klaus, but the majority of his attention was stuck on Kol.

“Fun?” Klaus growled. His foot came down hard, cracking the floorboard as he stepped forward.

Damon seemed to sense the sudden shift and pivoted, keeping both brothers in his sight line. He bent his knees and readied to fight back, but he never got the chance.

His saving grace appeared in a flurry of white gold hair and grey cashmere.

Rebekah stood in front of Klaus, keeping her hands on his chest as she surveyed the room. A swell of testosterone shimmered in the air. Her eyes flickered over the tight cords of muscle in her brothers’ necks before darting to Freya.

“We’re gone for half a day and you’ve turned the living room into a bloody boxing ring?”

“Don’t be ridiculous Bex,” Kol glared at Damon. “Boxers are shirtless. Do you see any shirts missing?”

Unbidden an image of her shirtless husband with beads of blood dripping down his chest swam through her mind. She poked her extended canine, imagining licking the red from the grooves in his abdomen.

Shirtless, she decided, would make the whole ordeal much more interesting. She might even get on board with a little beating if it meant she could watch the shift of his muscles under sweat slick skin.

“Where have you two been?” Klaus took a series of shallow breaths, forcing his features back to something resembling human.

“We have been busy.” Freya moved into the middle of the room, hoping her presence would at least deter her brothers from racing into a fight. “Keeping our ears to the ground.”

“And we have bigger issues right now than whatever this is,” Rebekah waved one hand.

Elena swallowed her disappointment, but then thought of the store of blood bags. A little AB positive would be tastier than Damon; it wouldn’t be the first time she had done something like that.

“What’s the problem, Bekah?” She loosened her grip on Kol’s arm, sliding her hand down to his wrist.

“I compelled a few locals who live near the cemetery, pushed some images into their minds, and you’ll never guess what I found out.”

“I think they will,” Freya rolled her eyes.

“Mother and father were both seen leaving the cemetery in the early hours of the morning. No idea where they went, but they’re most definitely alive.”

“Of course they are,” Klaus felt fury race through his veins. “Three guesses why they’ve come back.”

“We don’t need three guess, Nik,” Rebekah rolled her eyes. “It’s obvious. The Original Bitch is fresh out of the grave and looking for ways to kill us all along with daddy dearest. Say what you want about our parents, but when they set a goal they do everything to reach it.”

“And they’re together again?” Kol twisted his wrist, catching her hand. “United in their desire to end their children.” He hummed, tilting his head. “How romantic. I don’t think we can compete with that, darling.”

“Shut up, Kol!” Elena glared, lightly smacking his arm.

“I love it when you order me about,” he winked.

Her flush and Rebekah’s subsequent groan brought a smirk to his lips.

@klaroline-events @kol-and-elena-fanfiction @elejahforever@elejah-wonderland @cry-btch@geekofmanyfandoms@morsmornte @xanderling @iw1shiknew​

#kol mikaelson #Elena gilbert #kolena #Klaus mikaelson #freya mikaelson #Rebekah mikaelson #The Forgotten: Blood Moon Rising #fanfic #Alaric saltzman #au