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missnmikaelson-main · 4 years

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Addicted - Chapter 19

Down she went, following the narrowing beam of light.

Pressure crushed her arms and legs, but she kept on swimming. She swam past the sound of her mom’s scream and her dad’s assurance that everything would be alright. She kicked her legs as her own panicked voice circled around.

She could see the shining exterior of the car, dull behind the light and empty of inhabitants; she used it to pull herself around and grasp the handle.

Her lungs burned, but nothing could hurt her in a dream, right?

She pulled.

“You were helping this guy?” Rebekah tightened the chains around Alistair’s wrists, hoisting him higher. Her eyes lit on the inflamed mark on his lower arm.

“It wasn’t like I knew any better.” Marcel narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing the bite. He didn’t have to ask if Klaus had finally broken his curse, the infection answered that question. He was surprised however by his sire’s restraint. There had been a time when the Original would have ripped out Alistair’s heart, or divested him of his head, but Klaus had administered a relatively shallow bite far from major arteries and veins; the toxin would take hours to reach his heart.

“You could have asked,” she dug her nails into Alistair’s chin, forcing him to meet her eyes. She wasn’t entirely sure that she liked Elena Gilbert, or her ‘relationship’ with her brother, but that child was family and they hadn’t had a new member of the family in so long. Her pupils dilated slightly. “You tried to steal something very special from us. Children are a precious gift, wouldn’t you agree?”

He nodded a jerking movement that only dug her nails in farther.

“My brother’s bite is toxic,” she leaned back on her heels, inspecting the damage. “It will be slow, and it will be agonizing. And long before it’s done the fever will bring hallucinations; I thought I’d help it along and give you a little head start.”

Marcel resisted the urge to shudder when he caught a glimpse of her face. The angelic smile was maniacal and sickeningly sweet, painting her as a greater threat in that instance than Kol. And after Kol had put on his little Shakespeare show it took a lot for him to rank someone as worse than the psychotic maniac who had planned to kill him.

“You’re going to dream Alistair,” she hummed. “From now until the moment your heart stops, you will dream of your wife and your child.” She reached into his mind, finding the memories he sought to hide of a young woman before a bassinet. “Nothing happy I’m afraid,” she sighed, as if in apology. “Because whatever you see – however peaceful the vision appears – you will always slaughter them both, and you will re-live the pain each and every time.” She walked backwards, eyes sparkling as she retreated. “Frightful dreams, darling.”

Her eyes cut to Marcel, watching as he opened the door that would lead back to the main part of the basement.

“You could have asked more questions,” she repeated, crossing her arms.

“He said he had to get the doppelganger before the Originals could,” he snapped, shutting the cell door. “That was more than enough for me.”

“You would have hidden a human doppelganger from your own family,” she shoved his chest, pushing him up against rough stone. “You know how important her kind is. You know that Nik spent centuries looking for one.”

“And just like that I should have handed her over?” His eyes hardened.

“She’s not in danger from us!” Rebekah threw up her hands. “But even if she was you should have. I remember a time when you would have done anything to help your family – no matter who got hurt in the process.”

“And I remember my family abandoning me to the flames,” he grabbed her wrists, spinning around and pinning her in his place.

The light dimmed in her eyes, shadowed by a century of sorrow.

“We thought you were dead,” she breathed out, slowly. “I thought you were dead.”

“You never looked back long enough to find out,” he tightened his hold on her wrists, eyes flickering over her face.

“We were running for our lives,” she shook her head, “and you were dead on the stage.”

“Only I wasn’t.” His jaw clenched before he shook his head, laughing softly. “You know, a part of me always thought you’d come back one day, but now it’s abundantly clear that you’ve made a life somewhere else.”

“We haven’t…”

“You have,” he let go of her arms and stepped back, looking away. “I’ll help you find the girl. I’ve got people everywhere, so someone’s bound to have seen her, but answer me this, Rebekah.”

Her arms slid down to her hips, delicate skin scratching over stone.

“How long until you abandon her?”

++++

Her fingers slipped on the handle. She grabbed it again and pulled, planting her feet on the side of the car.

From inside she heard the barest whisper.

“What do I want, stranger who has all the answers?”

The door gave way; the water pushed her forward into darkness.

++++

“Caroline,” Marcel shut the door to the cellar, “that was your name right?”

“Yeah,” she straightened up; lowering the map she was reviewing with Kol.

He paused on the way towards the blonde, glancing around the deserted corridor; only Kol remained with Caroline and the witch.

“Where’d they go?”

“Elijah and Nik split up to look,” Kol folded the map. “We were just about to set out as well.”

“Did you need something?” She shoved her hand into her pocket to retrieve her ringing cell phone. “Just hang on a sec. Jeremy?” She answered the phone, pausing to listen. “No, we haven’t found her yet… yes; I realize that Jenna is freaking out.”

Kol lifted the phone from her hand.

“Don’t bring her down her, mate. The last thing we need is a newly turned vampire in a city this big.”

“We’ll call when we find her,” Caroline promised. She took back her phone and hung up. “Now,” her eyes flickered to Marcel, sparing a quick glance for Rebekah. “What do you need?”

“A picture of Elena.” He pulled out his phone, rattling off the number as Caroline typed. When the image arrived he sent out a group text.

“What are you doing?” Rebekah leaned over his arm to watch.

“Filing the missing person’s report,” he tucked his phone back in his pocket. “While we wait I thought your other friend here might try another locator spell.”

“I tried four,” Bonnie scoffed. She dragged her toes over the cobblestones, scuffing her shoes beyond repair. “I can’t find her.”

“Maybe you can with a power boost.”

“I’m already channeling a hundred dead witches.” She flexed her fingers, feeling the energy jump beneath her skin.

“So let’s add something new,” the corner of his mouth quirked up.

“Something new,” Kol cocked an eyebrow.

“A supernatural force – the likes of which you’ve never seen.”

++++

Klaus flipped his phone around from the compelled local and did a poor job tempering his growl; it was almost amusing how fast the kid ran off… almost.

He regretted immediately sending his hybrids out now, and not taking the time to call them all back in – they would have been useful and cut down on search time – but he had rushed headlong towards New Orleans when she spoke, certain that finding her would be much easier.

The best thing she could have done was stepped into a human home, but without knowing anyone in the city that was unlikely, so his best hope at the moment was public places; surely she would have stuck to one of them, making locating her all the simpler.

So far the cauldron and the quarter had come up empty.

“Where are you, love?” He stared down at the phone and the only photograph he had. Countless sketches and paintings littered his art studio, for every landscape or abstract there were two of her, but only one picture. It was one she had taken herself when she discovered his phone was empty.

“What kind of person doesn’t have any pictures?” She frowned down at the blank screen, but the corner of her mouth quirked up – how could it not when his fingers teased her inner thigh?

“The kind that prefers to paint,” he murmured, lips against her breast. “If I want an image I’ll make it myself.”

“I’ve seen those ‘images’,” her fingers threaded through his hair.

“You’ve posed for those ‘images’,” he urged her legs apart, capturing a hard nipple with his teeth.

“They’re too perfect,” she protested. Her hips rolled towards his fingers. “People aren’t that perfect.”

“You are.”

She had dropped the subject and his phone after that, but when he woke up the next morning to an empty bed he had found the pillow occupied with his cell phone and a single picture in the gallery.

His eyes traced the image, taking in her slight mussed hair and the shadows under her lively eyes. The text he had sent – ‘still perfect’ – had gained him an early morning phone call and the sound of her exhausted laugh: the by-product of their late night activities.

His phone rang, disturbing the image with the caller ID.

“Kol,” his greeting was clipped.

“Marcel got word back from some of his ‘guys’,” derision laced his tone, “and three of them ran into Elena shortly after she was talking to you.”

“Are they sure it was her?” He reached out, bracing one hand on a pillar.

“Apparently it’s hard to forget the face of a woman yelling at you in the middle of the street,” Kol drawled.

“Your girl’s got some anger issues,” a second voice grumbled in the background. It was swiftly followed by Marcel assuring ‘Diego’ that said girl had a right to be angry at the moment.

“Where is she?” Klaus growled cutting off the rambling. He didn’t recognize the man Kol handed his phone off to.

“She was outside the Jardin Gris. That little witch tossed three vampires.”

“Elena’s not a witch,” he sighed, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

“Maybe not, Nik,” Rebekah joined in the conversation, taking the phone from Diego, “but the Petrova family are travellers. Didn’t some of Katerina’s siblings fight back when you were slaughtering them?”

He straightened his spine, remembering the slip of a girl who had pushed him away. Her power had been new and untampered, but there had been power there.

“Katerina is her ancestor, so technically the power would have been passed on. Plus she’s carrying a little witch or warlock so she could have been channeling the baby.”

“It’s not unheard of for human mothers to access their witch child’s power while the baby is in the womb,” Kol spoke up. “It’s rare, but it happens.”

“The more likely scenario is traveller.”

Klaus cut in before his siblings could get into a row and cost precious time. “Where is she now?” He heard Rebekah take a deep breath, and what sounded like a body hitting a wall.

“They don’t know, by the time the vampires got back up Elena and the wolf she was with were gone. Apparently a couple of locals said a warlock got involved too at that point, but nobody has a name.”

“May I,” Marcel’s voice floated through the receiver; it came out clearer after a second. “Listen, my guys said the wolf was all protective of her, so there’s a good chance he’s hiding her, but since your witch…”

“BONNIE!”

“Bonnie,” he amended, “couldn’t locate her it’s safe to say that whatever warlock got involved is cloaking her.”

“I thought no magic happened that you weren’t aware of,” he clenched his fingers.

“It doesn’t… not in the city anyway. Out in the bayou though…”

“The bayou would take days to scour – even with all of us looking. Don’t suppose I could trouble you for some of your ‘guys’?” He bit down on his tongue.

“Nah-uh, that’s where my help ends. The bayou’s crawling with werewolves that are cursed to be wolves on all but the full moon, and I’m not gonna subject my people to the same toxin you hit Alistair with.”

“My blood can heal that bite.”

“You’d have to scatter out there, and what are the odds you’d find anyone bitten before the poison kills ‘em? I’m not risking that. You can head out there and start searching, and with any luck Bonnie can narrow down the location for you.”

++++

He hung up the phone before Klaus could respond and took the steps behind the reliquary two at a time, leading the way up to the attic. The door swung inwards, revealing a cluttered bedroom.

A silent girl sat cross legged in the middle of her bed. A white canopy fanned out around her.

“That’s the witch that’s gonna help?” Kol ran his eyes over the girl’s features. She couldn’t have been more than fifteen.

“Yup.”

Rebekah attempted to take a step into the room only to find a barrier holding her out.

“You gotta ask the lady of the house for an invitation,” Marcel inclined his head towards the girl.

“I don’t,” Bonnie approached the bed. “Doesn’t look like she’s going to be issuing invitations anytime soon.”

“In that case,” Rebekah spun on her heel, “I’m gonna go help Nik. Kol?”

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“I’ll go too,” Caroline backed up.

The sound of Kol clearing his throat made Rebekah pause at the top of the stairs and glance back, watching his back as he tensed.

“Maybe you should stay with Bonnie?”

“Bonnie just whooped Klaus and Alistair,” she narrowed her eyes, “she can handle herself.”

“I really can,” Bonnie called, bending slightly to inspect the edge of a bobby pin in the girl’s hand.

Caroline moved to follow after Rebekah; Kol stopped her with both hands on her shoulders.

“My concern was not for Bonnie, darling,” he met her glare with one of his own. “Marcel’s right about the risk. If you get bitten there’s a chance we wouldn’t get you to Nik in time, so you should stay here until we have a more solid lead.”

Her eyes flashed, churning like the sea during a storm.

“Unless of course, you want to die an unpleasant death,” he tilted his head to the side.

She gritted her teeth. “Fine, but the second there’s an actual location I’m going out there.”

“Figured you would,” he chuckled.

++++

She opened her eyes slowly, blinking in the shaft of sunlight; it filtered through the curtains, and she held up a hand to protect her sensitive vision. It took a moment before she could think to sit up.

Her breath caught as she took in her bedroom. Her fingers curled into a soft blanket covered in roses, for a brief moment an image flashed in her mind; she saw her parents larger than life and heard a baby gurgle.

She dropped the blanket and got to her feet, moving towards the shelf. Toys she vaguely recalled lined the wood along with pictures and drawings. She left them all untouched as some moments were meant to be.

++++

Davina snapped back into her body and jolted, sucking in a lungful of air. Her eyes darted around the room from Marcel to the vampire outside her door and back before settling on the witch at her bedside.

“You were using magic earlier.”

“She was looking for Elena,” Marcel nodded.

“How do you know her name?” Davina’s eyes narrowed.

“Because she’s our best friend,” the witch waved one hand towards the door. “I’m Bonnie.”

“Davina,” she regarded the witch carefully.

“I was hoping you’d help me find her, Davina.”

“She’s cloaked,” she shook her head.

“I know,” Bonnie reached into her bag for the map. “I thought you and I could break through it together. I’m channeling a hundred witches and you’re…” her eyes flickered to Marcel. “I don’t really know what you are, but Marcel says you’re powerful.”

++++

Her bureau held an assortment of jewelry. A sparkling pair of ruby earrings gave her a vision of her grandmother on a Christmas morning far gone. She recognized her only from the photographs that had decorated their mantle since Gran had passed when she was four years old, but the memory played out in her mind as if it had happened yesterday.

She backed away from the baubles; they weren’t the reason she was there.

She made a slow circle of the room, and found one thing to be missing, at least from her plain view.

She moved to the window, lifting the portrait of a horse away from the wall and reaching behind. Her fingers closed on cool leather.

++++

She texted Elijah as Kol drove, speeding through winding roads.

“You like her,” she glanced up.

“What?” He scanned the side of the road, selecting a spot to begin their search.

“Caroline,” Rebekah clarified, pointing to a small clearing for him to park, “you like her.”

“Did my blatant flirting give it away?” He rolled his eyes.

“Oh, please,” she scoffed. Her arms crossed over her chest. “You flirt with everyone.”

“You’re not still sore about poor Georgie, are you?” The corner of his mouth quirked up in a smirk and he cast a sidelong look in her direction.

“I had my eye on him for weeks, and then found him in your bed,” she gritted her teeth, but her voice still resembled a whine. She hated the way it made her sound like an insolent child.

“He still would have had you,” mirth laced his tone. “Probably would have tried for Nik too.”

“We’re getting off topic,” she punched his arm, “the important thing here is that you like her, and you’re not just flirting.”

“Of course I am,” he stepped out of the car. “Like you said, I flirt with everyone.”

“Yeah,” her shoes sank into the bog, “and then you sleep with them or feed on them. You only go out of your way to protect the ones you care about.”

++++

She cradled the green journal to her chest, lowering herself into the window seat.

She had watched the Harry Potter films with Bonnie and Caroline years ago, and as she held her journal she was struck with the image of a young Harry sneaking through the restricted section while books whispered to him from the shelves.

The journal was whispering words so quiet she couldn’t hear make them out; they were little more than a breath of wind rising up to ruffle her hair.

With shaking fingers she pulled the flap loose and flipped open the first page before thinking better of it and turning to the back. She ignored the looping letters as she worked backwards through entries until she found the day after the sacrifice.

Drawing in a deep breath she began to read.

@klaroline-4ever @cry-btch @xanderling @kol-and-elena-fanfiction @elejahforever @elejah-wonderland @morsmornte @geekofmanyfandoms @eternityunicorn

#addicted fic #klena #klaus x elena

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thedeadflag · 5 years

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So my work is super mind-numbing and soul-rending, and any time I can get a distraction from how shitty it is while I’m at work, I welcome it. I’m not, like, friend-friends with my coworkers, but there are some people I can talk with about stuff so that I can get a mental escape from the shittiness of my work.

Often, some sort of media’s brought up. One person at my work watches a lot of CW shows. A lot. It sometimes makes me wonder if some demonic bargain was struck once from their seeming undying devotion to watching the channel’s shows. We’ve talked about a lot of shows/movies over the time I’ve been there (my tenure at work far, far too long for my liking, but alas), and we’d kind of exhausted all the common links of what we’ve both watched.

So, at my own peril, I decided to take a bit of a dive into a universe I had long, long since left in my rearview mirror: The Vampire Diaries Universe.

Or, well, I’ve still ditched the main show, but I was lured into giving the spin-offs a shot.

Let’s just say that I was...a little surprised (more thoughts beneath the cut, because after two binge-watch sessions, I feel a need to at least arrange my thoughts so I’ll know what to say this week when my coworker brings up the shows)

I was told to watch the series in order, so I started with The Originals. This was my coworker’s favourite show of the trio from that universe, which had me hopeful that maybe it wouldn’t share some of TVD’s early missteps, since they could take what was hopefully learned and improved upon (I’m only speculating there, I never watched past mid-S2 and it never actually got better within that duration), and make a stronger, snappier pilot episode.

To say I was dismayed, but not surprised, would probably be pretty accurate. If you ever take the dive, get ready for a lot of Awkward Dramatic Poses, they’re overwhelmingly, relentlessly common in this show (especially with one of the mains, Elijah).

I made it 5 episodes in, and none of the characters have any meat on their bones. They’re pretty much all cardboard cutouts, or so shallowly written that they may as well be. There’s the occasional bit of quality acting despite the writing (Charles Michael Davis, Joseph Morgan, and Daniella Pineda seem like the stronger actors at this point, everyone else is real meh).

Overall, I was not impressed. Given the narrative pieces they were working with, I wanted to be intrigued and compelled to continue, but...it just didn’t grip me in the least. It’s not a horrible show, but those first five episodes didn’t really show much promise of it getting better, and they had plenty of time to manifest and nurture that tiny glimmer of hope I was looking for (pun intended). When the main characters are seemingly invincible, and the non-immortal pregnant main they’re protecting is also rendered immortal by the kid inside her, that kind of eliminates pretty much any real stakes involved outside of internal ones, and I didn’t see enough anything to suggest the show was up for handling that kind of character depth. I didn’t feel conflicted in the slightest from moving on after 5.

Legacies is the newest spin-off. Let me tell you, after five episodes of The Originals, I was not looking forward to this show. I came in with a bias, and it did not manage to change that with the pilot episode. In fact, I’d argue the pilot for Legacies was much worse. Almost laughably bad. Like, some of the worst writing I’ve seen on a CW show, and not in the ‘so-bad-it’s-good’ way that can sometimes be charming.

I could buy the whole “hybrid” thing in The Originals. It’s a bit much, and a little over the top in its state as a frustratingly predictable plot device in T.O., but I can understand the inclusion of it, lore-wise. It’s certainly not the first, and if I can tolerate it in those Kate Beckinsale-led movies I can’t recall the names of, then I could manage some tolerance there.

So I was stunned and frustrated as all hell that Legacies was seemingly centered around a supposed “Tribrid”. I couldn’t begin to imagine how annoying a character she would be. Y’all know I am generally a supporter of Mary Sue characters, but I’m not really one to appreciate characters who are so supremely powerful. It was tremendously difficult with T.O., and in the pilot, it was difficult there as well with Hope. Still, aside from her and the lead pasty dude, there was a cast of also-ran characters who seemed moderately compelling. The pilot is still one of the worst hours of television I’ve ever seen, but it could only go up from there.

And thank gosh it did. Monster-of-the-Week formatting really helped give time and space to develop the whole cast, and it also didn’t hurt that Hope’s tribrid perfection only ever showed up in minor, predictable ways. Usually in finishing the MotW, but as with any adventure, the journey is the point. There’s a bit of problem solving, a bit of character drama and development, a bit of foreshadowing of future issues and developments. It’s balanced. As for Hope, after the pilot, she’s largely allowed to just be a student at the school, and the show benefits greatly from that. Her being a ‘tribrid’ focuses less on how perfectly awesome she is, and more with how the headmaster’s favoritism for her (negatively) affects the rest of the school. She’s cast in the “I’m a loner, everyone who ever loved me is dead/gone” stereotype, but that’s largely framed as an internal perspective, and maybe the view from a few students rather than everyone (seriously, everyone seems to have a bit of a crush on her, while she seems woefully oblivious in general).

She’s got attachment issues, but they’re handled with some semblance of nuance here, you’re not always blatantly hit over the head with them like in T.O, with Klaus looking a solid 200 episodes worth of development away from any believable semblance of real progress. With Hope, there’s little shifts here and there, steps forward and backward. She’s young and learning, and while she seems powerful, she appears anything but invincible, and the rest of the cast is definitely out of their depth a good chunk of the time. The show’s dialogue can be real clunky at times, but the character progression clearly has a defter touch to it. What I guess I’m trying to say is there’s hope for improvement, really.

And maybe The Originals set a really low bar for comparison, but at least they’ve learned from some of the mistakes of that show, it seems. They’re not stretching a single narrative over 22 or whatever episodes. It’s a shorter order, and there’s a lot of other major stuff going on for the characters to sink their teeth into (pun intended), giving them plenty of room to breathe and show the viewer why they matter, why we should be invested. Even early on, you get glimpses of their inner workings and struggles, and you see them, even if only usually in minor ways, confront them.

It’s a largely likable group. I like watching shows where I’ll have at least a handful of characters to cheer on. Even the characters that grind my gears are ones I predict I’ll end up appreci-hating. There’s the seeds of a found family trope here, and I’m always here for that, so that intrigues me. I feared the worst, that there’d be similarly brooding dudes in this show like in the other two, but it’s not the case so far. The main pasty dude is actually physically useless and has the composure of an anxiety-riddled hamster, and he’s a better character for it. He’s just an ordinary, regular idiot, and he’s allowed to be, so even if he can rub me the wrong way a bit, he’s a breath of fresh air in comparison to the majority of male leads in supernatural-themed shows.

Even the main het ship of the show isn’t something that hogs the show’s spotlight, it doesn’t follow the ‘will they/won’t they’ struggle like a lot. The speed at which they get together’s a bit forced given the characterization involved, but at the same time, they’re pretty young, so I can see it happening at that kind of age where I wouldn’t if they were a decade older and in the same situation. Aside from them, the show does have some wlw stuff going on, and you all know I’m generally here for that, so that’s a bit of a draw, too.

It’s also a show that doesn’t take itself entirely seriously, and has a little fun with its occasional ridiculous campiness, and I appreciate that, given most other shows of its ilk don’t. It reminds me a little of early Supernatural in tone, and I liked early Supernatural. It might not rise to those levels of quality, it might not be a show I’d wholeheartedly consider ‘good’ just yet, but I’ll continue watching. I’m 8 episodes in, and feeling alright about it.

#long post #late night ramblings

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queenofthedramedies · 5 years

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Legacies 1x14: PTSD

Hello, Legacies Fellow Fans,

There is a huge temptation this week to just blurt out a few of the big things that happened in last week’s epi. and if you’re looking at what I reblogged for the week, you probably already know a few spoilers. So, let’s just dive into the opinions for the week.

This epi. was mostly emotionally-driven. If you watched TVD and TO, like I did, you remember Klaus Mikaelson well and you might have loved him, like I did, and like Hope and Klaus fans you felt like you are being stabbed through the heart in this epi. where Hope shows all the signs of some real PTSD thanks to Dad’s death, Mom’s death, and boyfriend nearly biting it; thanks to being on the wrong side of Milton’s teeth. Ouch! And the cherry on top is thanks to Hope’s keeping secrets. Come on, guys, they always come out in the end!

So it was not a good day for Hope, at all.

Was it a good day for anyone? Let’s figure this out and skip to MG.

MG meets a girl, and somewhat like Alaric Saltzman, seems to have really bad luck in the romance department because she was not there for him, literally. Plus, MG’s mom is [spoiler] and she’s [spoiler] and when MG finds out his world is going to be blown to bits! Agh! Pooor MG! But they did resolve things between him and his snack from last week, Landon Kirby! Will the boys find their way back to friendship road? I don’t know!

Landon was having a good day. After all, he finally knows he’s a special butterfly that can set things on fire, maybe. Happy Landon appeareth! But Landon is not allowed to be happy, it must be in Aria’s contract somewhere, right? Ergo, unhappy, jealous Landon appears thanks to Roman Sienna’s return. Duh, Duh, Duh! oh, boy, will the boys fight over the girl? Sorry that’s a spoiler, and not a very exciting one at that. And the fun just keeps coming for Landon when Penelope imparts a parting gift to him sending his lovely, loving relationship into a state of turmoil which leads to [major spoiler.] Not a good day for Landon!

Josie seems to be falling back into old, bad habits. And it just gets worse, and worse, and worse for her. And just when we think that things can’t fall totally apart for Josie, Penelope leaves. Okay! Okay! I know! It’s a spoiler but the news is like wildfire and no matter how many times we try to wake up and find ourselves back in Kansas, with Penelope about to pull out another badass trick from her bag...she’s gone. Something tells me Josie is about to channel her inner Penelope and God help anyone in her way!

Oh, and the only happy friendship, or maybe more, for some shippers is: Hizzie. I’m down with a kickass friendship between these two, no offense to the non-platonic Hizzie shippers.

So, this post is getting a little bit long. So, I think this is a good place to say good-bye for this week and go to shed some tears over #Posie. #BringPenelopeParkBack! because this can not be the end!

#hope mikaelson #landon kirby #josie saltzman #penelope park #posie #MG #legacies #opinions of legacies

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lalainajanes · 6 years

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klaroliiinnnee + i kissed you goodbye by accident - old habits die hard okay?!?!

@goldcaught sent me this one too! Great minds, lol.

Keep It Around

Caroline’sgot her fists clenched around the steering wheel, tense and worried, becausetraffic has chosen to totally work against her. Not by being an impossiblegridlock, however. No, the drive from her apartment to Klaus’ house (formerly their house) has been a freaking dream.She doesn’t think she’d hit even a single red light.

She barelyhears Mojo Jojo and Professor Utonium yowling from their travel kennels, tunesout the sound of their little claws trying to rip through the plastic mesh.When she’s not staring at the road she’s glaring at the clock on the dash,willing it to jump forward twenty minutes.

She’searly, something that would usually be a point of pride. In this case? Early isbad. Early means spending more time with Klaus than she’s prepared to, fillingminutes with more than rehearsed instructions and plans. This is the fifth timeshe’s had to go out of town for work since they’d broken up and Caroline hadtimed each previous drop off to perfection. The last four times she’d allottedherself less than fifteen minutes between the time she’d arrive at Klaus’ andthe time the cab she’d ordered would pick her up. Just enough time to park inKlaus’ garage, wrestle the cats into the collars that would allow them throughthe pet door and into the backyard, and spend a few minutes giving Mars a bellyrub.

They’dworked out a decent joint pet custody agreement but the twice weekly runs whereshe gets to hang out with Mars were far too short. She misses the dog, a huskymutt who’s never quite accepted the fact that he’s too big for her lap. Hemight have been Klaus’ but he’d been barely out of puppyhood when she’d movedin, had spent more of his life with her in the house than without. He’d beenthe one to suggest she leave the cats, a pair of tuxedos she’d adopted yearsbefore she’d met Klaus, with him when she had to travel for work so Carolineassumes he’s in the same boat.

When sherolls into Klaus’ driveway she sees Mars in the window, perched on the back ofthe couch, his tail wagging furiously. She can’t help but smile, heranxiousness easing a little. Maybe, if she focused on the dog, not on the dog’s owner, she’d be fine.

Optimism istotally Caroline’s thing and she tells herself she can do this. Klaus had beenher roomie and friend long before he’d been her boyfriend. They’d had abajillion conversations before she’d realized she was in love with him. What’sone more now? She’s pretty sure she’s stillin love with him but she’s working on it. It’ll fade.

Eventually.

She thinks.

The cats,probably sensing their location, have gotten more restless, their cries growingin pitch and frequency. Mojo is smaller than his brother, is turning circlesand bumps his head against the kennel’s side when Caroline reaches for him.She’d bought them after the first time she’d had to transport the cats toKlaus’ had learned that juggling two hard kennels full of wriggling cats was adisaster. Professor Utonium had managed to spring himself, busting through themetal door, and streaking up a tree.

She’d hadto leave, had fretted her whole flight, until she’d landed and a text fromKlaus had come through saying he’d got the cat down and that Prof was safe andsound and gorging himself on dinner. He’d even sent pictures to prove it, ashot of his dog and her cats curled up on the living room rug.

Caroline’sgot dozens of similar pics stored in her phone. When she’d first moved in withKlaus her cats hadn’t been too sure what to make of the bouncy ball of fluffthat was forever pouncing on their tails. Within a month they’d all been fastfriends, their occasional scraps quickly forgotten whenever there was a sunnyspot open and a group nap beckoned.

The newcarrying cases resemble sports bags and she loops one over each shoulder,swaying for a moment until the cats settle down and she can find her balance,before pulling up the handle of her suitcase to roll it behind her. She’s notthe least bit surprised to find Klaus slipping out of the house when she looksup, or hear him ordering Mars to stay. The dog whines but obeys and Carolinepresses her lips together to fight a smile. Mars had been a puppy schoolsuperstar and she can’t help but be proud.

She leavesher suitcase at the base of the steps, hands over her keys so he can move hercar if he needs to. She hadn’t seen his on the street, assumes it’s parked inthe garage. For all she knows he’s got a hot date tonight and she’s blockinghim in. She might have wanted labelsbut plenty of women didn’t. “Thanks again for taking them this weekend,” shesays, letting him take Professor Utonium’s kennel from her. “And I’m reallysorry it’s so last minute this time. I hope it won’t happen again but I’m stillfeeling out my new boss. It’s possible he’s evil but I’m hoping he’s justdisorganized. That I can work with.”

Klaus laughssoftly though the look he shoots her is speculative. Likely because Caroline’sbeen careful not to let their conversations stray into personal topics. She’dthought it best to keep things between them surface level but, considering howmuch time she has to fill before her cab arrives, it would be pretty awkward ifshe didn’t at least start a conversation.

“Yes, I’msure you could whip him into shape in no time and he wouldn’t even notice.”

“Damnright,” Caroline chirps.

“Congratulationson your promotion,” Klaus says. “You’ll be brilliant.”

She pauses,turning to look at him. “How did you…”

He turnshis attention to mounting the steps, very carefully not looking at her.“Instagram.”

Huh. Klausbarely uses Instagram, hadn’t posted anything in at least a month (yes, she checks and she’s not proud of it) andher promotion is barely two weeks old. Maybe she’s not the only one who’s gotsome feelings lingering.

Carolineknows she shouldn’t be happy about that realization but hey, the heart wantswhat it wants. It’s nice to know hers isn’t alone in its stubbornness.

He pushesthe door open, “Sit,” he says firmly, and she can hear Mars’ nails scrabblingon the tiles, glances up to see him quivering with excitement, mouth open andtongue lolling.

Carolinehurries into the house, bending to rub his ears, “Who’s a good boy?” she coos.“And so handsome.”

“He toredown the drapes the day before yesterday,” Klaus says dryly. “So definitely nota good boy.”

She doesn’tlet up, stands so she can run her hands over his fur. His tail is a blur,swishing rapidly back and forth. “Aw, I’m sure it was an accident. Mars-y, didyour little squirrel friends come back? They shouldn’t taunt you.”

Klaus sighsand she knows he’s holding in a comment about how she babies the dog – somethingthey’d bickered over often. Mars is an excellent guard dog, very intimidatingwhen he needs to be. So what if he’s privately a big ol’ cuddly softy?

They saiddogs resembled their owners, didn’t they? Klaus is definitely in the pricklyouter shell with hidden inner depths club.

Carolinerises, setting her kennel on the hall table. Klaus has left the cat collarsthere and she picks one up. She fiddles with it for a moment, loosening it.Apartment living has caused Mojo to gain a little weight (he’ll hog the food ifshe lets him) and she’s started him on a laser pointer regimen but hasn’t seenmuch of a difference. She hands the carrier off to Klaus, “I’ll hold, youcollar?”

He agreeswith a soft hum and Caroline unzips the flap, shooting her hand in before Mojocan poke his head out. She scoops him out, safely immobilized under her arm,and Klaus neatly clicks the collar shut around his neck.

Caroline’scareful to ignore how close he is, keeps her gaze focused on the cat. She setshim down and he immediately throws his body against Klaus’ legs, rubbingaffectionately. Caroline feels a small pang of guilt but shakes it off and Mojois quickly distracted by the Mars, who greets Mo with a very inappropriatelyplaced sniff.

“Hey,rude,” Caroline chides, nudging the dog when she bends to grab the otherkennel. He thinks it’s a game, crouching down into pounce position and yipping.Caroline just can’t say no to that face, reaches out to pat his headaffectionately. “No one likes a butt sniffer, Mars.”

Klaus openshis mouth but Caroline points at him warningly, “Do not even thing about channeling Kol right now.” His lips presstogether and a bright light of amusement remains and it’s so easy to smileback. “I’m sure we could google and find out I’m wrong but do we really want to?”

“Likelynot.”

“I love itwhen you agree with me,” Caroline jokes.

“You likeit more when I don’t,” Klaus shoots back.

She thinksabout arguing, decides it’s too dangerous. Today’s the most comfortable she’sfelt in Klaus’ presence since before things had gotten bad between them. Shefinds she doesn’t want to put the wall back up between them. If Klaus were toreference any of the many (many)times one of their arguments had ended up with the two of them naked or nearlyso against the most convenient flat-ish surface she’d have to.

No way canshe endure the next twenty to thirty minutes of his company if she’s thinkingabout how she can still only seem tocome if she thinks about him.

She liftsthe other kennel and they repeat the process and get Professor Utonium’s collarsituated. When he’s on the floor the animals are quick to pelt out of thehallway. Caroline holds her breath, half expecting a crash, but soon she hearsMars barking and she knows they’ve made their way outside. “It’s supposed to besunny this weekend. The boys will probably spend most of it rolling around onthe grass and out of your hair.”

Klausdoesn’t seem particularly concerned. “They’re no bother, love.”

Carolineknows he genuinely means it. She’d met Klaus while looking for a place to rent,had been having trouble finding something pet friendly that was availableimmediately. When she’d met her friend Enzo’s new boyfriend Kol he’d been quickto offer up a solution in the form of his brother (‘kind of a wanker but a softtouch for any fluffy beast who crosses his path’) who’d been between housematesat the time.

Carolinehad met Klaus the next day, had quickly fallen in love with the house and Marseven as she’d sternly told herself that she would not, under any circumstances,consider sleeping with Klaus even if he happened to be distractingly hot.

Her vow hadlasted almost seven months and, if she were being honest, Caroline’s superimpressed with her will power that she’d held out that long. Klaus hadn’t beenshy about expressing his interest and had quickly developed some kind ofallergy to shirts.

They’dfallen into a kind of roommates with benefits situation. They’d worked well asroommates and the benefits had been goodand a year passed before Caroline even realized it. She’d been out withfriends, a long overdue girl’s night, and some creep had gotten belligerentwhen she’d turned down his offer to buy her a drink.

He’dinsisted she tell him if she had a boyfriend and, while she’d had no problemleaving him in her dust, his words had lingered as she’d made her way back toher friends.

Because, asfar as Caroline had known she didn’thave a boyfriend. She hadn’t been seeing anyone else and she’d known Klaushadn’t been either. Still, they’d never discussed commitment, hadn’t reallymade big future plans beyond the everyday ‘Mars needs shot in a month, the yardwill need to be graded in the spring’ type that came with living in the samehouse. They’d fallen into such an easy thing that the big discussions –marriage, kids, joint bank accounts – hadn’t come up.

Carolinehad figured that was a sign that Klaus wasn’t interested in any of thosethings. And it sucked realizing that shewanted them more than anything.

She’d drunkway too much vodka. Had started looking a new apartment the next day.

“When does your cab get here?” Klaus asks.

She fishesher phone out of her jacket, fights to keep from visibly cringing. “Uh, liketwenty minutes? Sorry, my timing is off today. I can wait outside it you want…”she rocks back a step, fully prepared to wait out on the porch with hersuitcase.

Annoyanceflashes across Klaus’ face, “So eager to leave my company?”

“You’re theone who asked me when I was leaving.”

His jawclenches, his eyes fluttering shut briefly and he’s back to casual pleasantnessin an instant. “Just making conversation. Why don’t you come in to the kitchen?I made coffee not too long ago.”

“Sure.” Sheslips off her flats – Klaus is weird about shoes in the house – and follows himthrough the house. There’s a wall of windows that face the backyard and she cansee Mars chasing one of the cats though they’re moving too quickly for her tonote which one.

“Just likeold times,” she says, then immediately wishes she hadn’t. Klaus’ back is toher, and he tenses as he reaches into the cupboard where he’s always kept themugs. He doesn’t say anything but she can tell it’s a struggle from the way hemoves, jerky, her usual mug clinking loudly when he sets it down.

Ooookay. Alighter topic is needed ASAP.

“How’s workgoing for you?” Caroline asks.

“My clientssend me a steady stream of requests.” Klaus’ main source of income isillustrations, mainly plants that appear in textbooks and field manuals.

She thinksabout dropping it, about sitting quietly and sipping her coffee but a silencethat long seems excruciating and Caroline just can’t do it. “And yourpaintings?”

Klaus isfar more passionate about his own work, had often holed up in his studio at theback of the house for so long Caroline had grown worried and taken it upon herselfto bully him out to eat and sleep. He’s shown at galleries in several majorcities and while she doesn’t know much about how much he makes off of them thesize and location of his house tells her he must do pretty well.

He glancesat her, too quickly for her to read, “Stalled,” he replies, clipped.

Whoops.Maybe not the best choice of topic. “Sorry,” she offers.

He sets thecoffee in front of her and it’s the exact perfect color. A sip tells her it’sjust as sweet as she prefers too. “I hear you’re going to be an uncle again.”

She changesthe subject whenever Enzo or Kol bring up Klaus. It’s bad enough that she can’tresist the urge to check up on him via social media. Bits and pieces about hisother family members still filter in and she’d seen the announcement that Sagewas pregnant again the last time she’d been at Enzo’s for dinner.

“Finn’spleased, of course. Insufferably so.”

“Perfectlyon brand, then.”

That teasesa smile from Klaus, “Indeed.”

“The firstkid’s really freaking cute, to be fair. You Mikaelsons were given more thanyour fair share of pretty.”

He laughs,most of his bad mood having melted away, “Such flattery. You’ll make me blush.”

“Like youblush.”

Klaus’inability to feel embarrassment was something Caroline had deeply envied. He’dtaken delight in turning her on in public, both via text or by whisperingsomething filthy that no one else could hear. Her pink cheeks had likely givenanyone observant enough a big clue about the subject they were discussing.

She’d triedto turn the tables a few times and, though Klaus had loved it, he’d also alwaysmanaged to one up her.

In the end,once they were alone and free to do more than talk, Caroline had never minded.Klaus always kept his promises.

But shecan’t let herself think about thatjust now.

She findshim watching her, knowing, a little bit heated and she wishes she’d taken offher jacket too. Caroline clears her throat, “You’ve still got their food andeverything, right?”

Best toturn to safer topics and be a responsible pet parent.

“Assumingthey still eat the same thing, yes. I noticed Mojo’s looking a bit… er… plump.”

Carolinecan’t help the rather unladylike snort-laugh that erupts at his delicatephrasing. Klaus is quick to laugh too, ather she’s sure, but she lets it slide. She slaps a hand over her mouth tosmother it, gets herself under control. “He prefers the term roly poly, thankyou.”

“Noted.”

“We’retrying exercise before a food change. You know how picky The Professor is andit’s a pain to have them on separate foods.”

“I think Istill have one of those feather sticks they like to chase tucked awaysomewhere. I’ll make sure he gets his cardio in.”

“Probablynot necessary. I think Mars will get him moving just fine.”

Klaustwists to look out the window, “You’re probably right.”

She looksover too, notes the fence has been painted, and an easy conversation aboutother home improvement projects springs up. She’s actually startled when herphone buzzes, the notification that her cab is arriving shortly.

Carolineslides off her stool, rounding the island. She’s got one hand on Klaus’shoulder, the other on his jaw, turning his head to her, and her lips pressedto his before she even thinks about it. She’s sat in this kitchen with him, shared coffee and smiles and talked about things big and small, so many times. Kissing him goodbye is muscle memory.

She freezes, her muscles locking as shetries to process just how she’d gotten to this point. Her eyes go wide only tofind that Klaus’ have closed and he wraps an arm around her waist before shecan pull away.

“I’m…” herapology fails, ending in a squeak when Klaus stands, the full length of hisbody pressed to hers.

“I’m not,”he says, against her mouth, low and a touch gravely, just before his hand sinksinto her hair and tips her head up for a firmer kiss.

She knowsshe should resist, turn her head awayand tell him they can’t. He feels too good for her to want to.

His hands arefirm, the slightest bit unsteady, like he’s afraid she’ll disappear. He kissesher deeply, fast and fierce, with an edge of desperation. She moans into it, moulding her body to his,touching him tentatively at first, with more purpose when he shudders againsther palms. She can’t bring herself to pull back until her lungs are burning.When her head falls back with a gasp his wet mouth drags down her throat,shoving her sweater aside so he can pant against her shoulder.

Carolinelicks her lips, tries to gather her scrambled thoughts. “This is a bad idea.”

Klausshakes his head, an immediate denial. He bites gently at the curve of her neck,careful not to mark her, and then licks away the sting. Caroline shivers, herthighs clenching together from the sensation, fingertips digging into his backto hold him closer.

She triesagain, “I can’t do this again. Not…”

Hestraightens, takes a moment to blink away the haze of want. When his eyessharpen Caroline swallows harshly, the gulp audible. He looks frustrated, alittle angry. “I’ve been trying to talk to you for months, Caroline. I’ve beenpatient, waiting for a sign. Pestering my brother at every availableopportunity, crossing my fingers that you weren’t doing something senselesslike moving on.”

Caroline’smouth falls open, her temper sparking. “Something senseless?” she spits. “Senseless? You’re such…”

“Senseless,”Klaus interrupts, his expression daring her. “Ill-advised. Foolish. Pick yourterm, love. They all work.”

She shovesaway from him but can’t go far, crossing her arms as the island digs into her back.“Well excuse me for wanting more than just sex, Klaus. For deciding I wanted tobuild a life with someone.”

His fistsclench at his sides, his harsh inhale shaking his shoulders. “We had a life, Caroline. One that I thoughtwas pretty bloody fantastic. One that you walked away from without evenbothering to tell me why. My brotherhad to do what you were too cowardly to.”

“I am not acoward,” she hisses. “You never said…”

“Neither didyou!” Klaus shouts, his hands rising in frustration.

“Not evenonce!”

It’s a weakdefense and she knows it but Caroline’s never been one to go down without afight. Klaus had been the one to start flirting, Klaus had been the one to kissher. Had he wanted more, her future, the rest of their lives, wouldn’t he havesaid so?

“I didn’t…”God, she wishes she’d thought to prepare for this conversation. It’s been along time since she’d felt this tongue tied. “Well, I guess I just thought longterm wasn’t your thing. You seemed kind of… scornful or marriage as aninstitution.”

“Because I’veseen it be a nightmare.”

Fair.Caroline’s seen her share of bad ones too.

“I figuredit would hurt less if I got out early,” Caroline mutters. “When I thought aboutmy future, all I saw was you. I didn’t think you saw the same.” She’d been theone to ease back from Klaus, had calmly informed him that it was time for herto have her own place over dinner. He’d been shocked, angry, had stormed out ofthe house. “I should have asked, huh?”

She’d beenscared to. Hadn’t wanted to hear Klaus tell her she wasn’t enough. She’d goneto bed before he’d gotten back that night. Had been taping boxes together whenhe’d woken up the next morning. They hadn’t had too many conversationsafterwards.

One of hishands runs through his hair and the other hovers. She watches him considertouching her, sees how his eyes flick to her mouth again, and then think betterof it. When he speaks again it’s quieter, incredulous. “I cannot believe youdon’t know that I’m in love with you.”

It’sshocking and she takes a moment to absorb the full weight of the statement, togauge his seriousness but she sees nothing but sincerity, a weariness, in hiseyes. She moves this time, collidingwith him, kissing him even as her eyes sting with tears that want to fall. Thisis slower, searching, and she wraps her arms around him and let’s herself enjoyhow warm he is, how good he feels. He pushes her jacket off her shoulders, hishands sliding under her sweater, a little rough and greedy for skin.

The knockat the door tears them apart. Caroline considers ignoring it when her eyesflutter open to find Klaus’ lips swollen and his eyes dark, his breathing justas uneven as hers. “That’s my ride,” she rasps. “I wish I could stay.”

Had shestill been at her old job she might have been able to swing it. Her pay raisehad come with new responsibilities and she’s supposed to be leading tomorrow’smeetings.

Klaus tipshis head forward to rest against hers, “What’s a few more days?”

Ugh,torture. It takes great effort to pull away. “I’m back Friday. Do you want tohave dinner together? We can talk and see if we can figure this out.”

Klaus nods,“I’ll pick you up. We’ll get takeout and we willfigure this out.” He retrieves her jacket, shakes it out, motions for her tospin around.

She letshim help her into it, “So confident,” she murmurs.

Klaus laughs,pulls her back into him. He presses his face into her hair, inhales with acontented noise. “I finally got the full story from Kol only because Enzorefused to let him do anything more drastic. Such as lock us in a small roomtogether with only food, water, and condoms until we’d come to an agreement.”

“Yourbrother watches too many Lifetime movies.” Not that Caroline can complain. Kol’sthe only one who’ll watch them with her.

There’sanother knock from the door and, reluctantly, Klaus nudges Caroline forward,snagging her hand and enclosing it in his. She squeezes, “Can I call youtonight?” The idea of waiting three days to speak to him, knowing what she doesnow, is super unappealing.

Klausagrees, easily and instantly, presses her up against the door for one lastbrain melting kiss. It’s only the knowledge that there’s probably a veryimpatient cab driver on the other side that prevents Caroline from wrapping herlegs around his waist.

“Be safe,”he murmurs, just before he pulls away.

Caroline’sslightly dazed as she leaves the house. The cab driver confirms her name, grabsher bag and walks ahead to stow it. She’s lucky she’s walked down the porchstairs and the front walkway hundreds of times because she does it onautopilot. It’s not until she’s in the cab, turning to wave one last time atKlaus that she realizes she’s forgotten something.

If she werein a Lifetime movie she’s have made the driver stop, would have sprinted back tothe house. Caroline really likes her job, has very specific plans for hertrajectory. Thankfully, there’s always the wonders of modern technology. Shepulls out her phone, taps the screen to connect a call to Klaus and waits forhim to pick up.

“Caroline?”he asks, sounding puzzled. “You can’t have forgotten anything.”

“Just onething.”

“Oh?”

“I love youtoo. Just so you know.”

Klaus’reply is slow to come and Caroline holds her breath. “I had an inkling. But it’sgood to hear.”

She laughs,tipping her head back against the seat. “Hence the reason why I mauled you.”

His voicedrops, the tone familiar and promising seduction. “You can, of course, feelfree to maul me anytime.”

“I had aninkling,” she jokes.

Theycontinue talking until Caroline gets to the airport and has to focus onchecking in. In the evening, the next few nights, after she’s done with workfor the day. When it’s dark and she should be sleeping they get to the hardstuff. Her insecurities, the reason she’d decided to run without fighting. Howhard it is for him to say certain things. He promises to try, she vows never tobe afraid to talk to him about the hard stuff.

She leavesthe call connected, listens to him breathing to fall asleep.

In themorning, despite her lack of rest, Caroline feels fantastic. Better than shehas in months and, on the flight home, she gets an email from her boss sayinghe’s been hearing impressive things about her performance at the conference.

She and Klaus make a tiny little scene at theairport, get a little too handsy and heated considering their audience.

They forgothe takeout and, once again, the traffic gods smile on Caroline. Last time she’dthought it a curse. This time? Not so much. They manage to avoid any and alltraffic snags and make it to Klaus’ in record time.

The animalsare very excited to see them. At first. They quickly grow indignant when they’relocked out of Klaus’ bedroom without even getting a moment’s of attentionlavished upon them. The drapes come down again, half the books on the livingroom shelves end up on the floor. Along with a bowl of fruit that had beensitting on the kitchen island.

NeitherCaroline nor Klaus hear the commotion. They’re too busy making up for losttime.

#klaroline #klaroline drabbles #thetourguidebarbie #goldcaught #file this one under things I meant to be shorter

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funkymbtifiction · 7 years

Text

Character Development for Sensor-Dominants

Hi Charity! I’m sorry for asking this through the ‘Submissions’ text-box, but I don’t have a Tumblr account and I’ve noticed a couple of people doing the same thing lately, so I hope that it’s okay…?

It’s fine. :)

I’ve been actively reading about type and cognitive functions for the past couple of years, and I’ve noticed something that regularly happens in the small circle I discuss type with. Essentially, whenever a character has a vision or goal, it is decided that they are an intuitive character. For some characters this is obviously the case, otherwise there wouldn’t be a Sensor/Intuitive binary. For others though, Se-dom becomes Ne and Si-dom become Ni-dom the moment they state that they have a goal or vision, begin developing some kind of plan or try to instigate change.

It’s because of the stupid bias online (and elsewhere) that sensors can’t be smart, so if a character shows even a hint of intelligence, creativity, or a plan that includes the future, they must be an intuitive, since sensors all live in the moment and never think about the future. ;)

The best examples of the Se/Ne discussion come from anime, sorry – Mello from Death Note and Eren Jaeger from Attack on Titan, though Harley Quinn can appear to be an ENFP to some people. Some examples of the Si/Ni discussion off the top of my head are Cersei, Sansa and Maergary from Game of Thrones.

I can’t speak to anime, but Harley Quinn as an ENFP baffles me, when she’s clearly all about immediate impact for future benefits (Se/Ni axis). I guess you could make a very weak argument for inferior Si with her relationship with Joker (she’s in an abusive relationship just because she’s always been in it)... but you’d still need idealistic, ideas-stick-to-me-like-glue Ne-dom and I don’t see it.

Cersei... I am considering Ni/Se simply because I’ve realized that her methods are out of sync with the world around her in a way that Si/Ne is not, and she is clearly able to think significantly ahead (the finale this year was a good example, where she and Euron had obviously planned what to do in several scenarios in advance, and she resolutely absolutely refused to deviate from those plans even when she ‘faked’ it -- which indicates a poor Se imbalance, and lack of fearful inferior Ne that would be freaked out, thinking of the 5,000 things that could go wrong with the White Walker invasion on her doorstep). Other examples include her attempts to be significant / take a leadership role, in a male-dominated hierarchy, as if she somehow expected to be allowed to do so, even though no woman had been allowed to do so in the past -- sort of a Ni-dom idealism in play, and a lack of Si-awareness of ‘how things work.’

Show Sansa is such an SFJ I’m not sure how anyone could see her different. I know I typed her ISFJ (I think?) here but I’m fairly sure she’s an ESFJ in the grip sometimes, because she’s so assertive of her feelings and suspicious of everyone’s motives. She references her own subjective experiences 24/7, and denies anyone else knowing people ‘as well as I do’ because she lived through things they did not, which hints at a strong / dominant Si-tendency to filter everything through her perception of what happened, rather than what happened.

Margaery... I have seen good Ne/Te loop arguments, but I think she uses Fe so convincingly she must have it in her stack, so ESFJ seems right. She has a plan to sit on the throne, yes, but she goes about it through the traditional channels -- unlike Dany, who decides to just TAKE it, Margaery thinks, “How does one become powerful? How have others done it? They married the king and became the queen, and won over the populace. I’ll do that.” Unlike Cersei, she does not invent a new path to the throne, she just walks in the time-honored one established by centuries of queens -- to great success. There’s a sensor for you: they get things done, because they don’t need to reinvent the wheel to get what they want, they just go get it.

I’m open to discussion about type, and recognize that you can’t always get it right the first time, but often the Sensor function in the new type is often explained in very lazy ways – Si is linked to a grudge, bad memories and someone staying with someone past the time they should leave; Se is basically they implement their plan in the real world through observation and they like to be active.

Sadly, yes, this has become the case... because a lot of N’s are into typology due to it being an abstract theory, and because their own sensing is so poor, they are just describing ‘behaviors’ they see in people they ASSUME are sensors rather than having a deep understanding of how healthy, normal, high-functioning sensory functions work.

Si is a perspective of reality that focuses on bringing inner meaning from sensory experiences and a desire not to deviate from personal experience, which then feeds into a greater collective understanding of something (Ne).

Se is an objective perception of reality that focuses on the events themselves, unfiltered except to form intuitive (Ni) conclusions based on hunches or to take actions calculated for future impact.

Si/Ne axis wants to be meticulous and construct knowledge in a way that could be included in future text books, it is that detailed. Se/Ni axis wants to take swift action for future impact, and focuses intently on the object to derive personal meaning from it.

I’m not certain of my own type as yet, but I’ve been stuck on the idea that I’m a Sensor because I feel that sense of doom when things start to get stressful, and I become paralyzed and unsure what move to make to leave the situation. I’ve struggled through anxiety, and admit that that may color my interpretation of my type, but it is difficult to be sure when there seems to be a lack of consistency in the information about sensors, and, while there may be more of them in the world, there does not appear to be the same quantity of them online.

General anxieties about the future do not always have to be a low intuitive function; rather, you should focus on whether you are more inclined to perceive the details of an object, concept, or idea (S) before you consider the broad implications, or more inclined to focus on the broad picture than the details (N). S types are more interested in DOING, whereas N types often just THEORIZE. This is why an ISFP would probably get in their boat and go help the flooding victims from the hurricane (affirmative action) while an INFP would be more likely to raise money for their relief (concern conceptualized through sharing the idea of people’s suffering) -- that’s a broad example.

It becomes frustrating when examples of characters of a certain type, notably Si-doms and Sensing-Feelers, suddenly seem to change in the eyes of some people because their character has a goal or has been allowed to develop. The remaining characters at the end of type discussions that often remain Si-doms in the eyes of the group are the side-kicks, the personal assistants or the character that is eventually ‘saved’ from their situation by someone else and never by their own means. Se-doms are the badass side-kicks or the friend who never plans anything and comes in as comic relief at random intervals. I enjoy providing practical help to the people around me, but… Seriously?

Instead of changing their type, you should consider that the character is developing lower intuitive functions. Sansa, for example, was not cunning or intuitive on her own merit, but learned how to think that way from Littlefinger (God rest his poor, angst-ridden soul)... and she will never reach his levels. Just sayin’. When people assign intuitive types to characters based on very small margins or details, it says more about them and their negative bias against sensors than it does the character.

Though, I will take issue with Se-doms as the sidekicks. They are most action heroes... in... well, everything from cop shows to big-screen blockbusters. ESTPs are the most popular go-to in those formats. ;)

Would it be possible for you to write a little about differences in character development for Sensor/ Intuitive dominants, where the character makes changes themselves? Also, I know that you’re a bit of a history buff, so I was wondering whether you know of any Si-/Se-dom leaders that subvert this trend? That were able to take charge and make change through their own agency, for a goal or vision.

In real life, healthy people learn from their mistakes. In good fiction, characters should learn from their mistakes, grow, and be different at the end of the series or film than at the first, provided it allows for character development. This is why James Cameron is a good filmmaker; he does not write the best scripts, but his characters are never quite the same at the end of the story as the beginning. They overcome hangups, learn to put aside their prejudices, or connect to a deeper truth and abandon their old life for something new.

These are not all sensor dominants, but they are worth mentioning:

Jake (ISTP) in Avatar learns to connect to his Ni, through interaction with the deeply spiritual natives; he comes to respect their beliefs and yearn for a deeper connection to nature. He chose this, once he encountered it. (Neytiri (ESFP) must also overcome her prejudices toward Jake.)

Elijah (ISFJ) in The Vampire Diaries and The Originals must learn to put the past behind him in order to embrace a greater future; he comes to acknowledge that his blind devotion to his ‘family’ endangers himself and them, and he makes the choice to sever some of those ties so he can find happiness. At the same time, Hayley (ESTP) learns to put aside her roaming nature, and find comfort in having a stable ‘family’ unit -- both with Elijah and the wolf pack; and Klaus (ENTJ) finally comes to terms with his volatile emotions and learns that a knee-jerk violent reaction (poor Se/Fi) is not often the right answer.

Probably the most visionary, influential Se-dom leader that comes to my mind was Winston Churchill, who foresaw the perils of Hitler and went out of his way to protect his nation, recruit foreign aid (he popped a bottle of champagne open when the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor, because he said “We have won the war... the Japanese have awakened the sleeping giant”), and to enforce what he believed were positive policies after the war ended. People need to remember that Se/Ni can have a vision, and anyone can have goals, regardless of type -- how they achieve their goals defines their cognition.

I’m afraid I can’t think of a Si-dom leader offhand that entirely bucked tradition, but I’ll be on the lookout for one.

Thank you for reading :-) Your time and effort put into this blog is really appreciated, and has helped me greatly in my own typing journey, as I’m sure it has many others.

Thank you. Let me know if you need more help. :)

- ENFP Mod

#question #sensors #submission

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ashleighxx · 7 years

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Klarolinemashup Day Two

Saturday15th|ObjectPrompt|A belt, a coffee mug and a notebook

Klaus had been living on the streets go around a year now. His father, Mikael, had found out he wasn't his son and got seriously drunk. So by the time Klaus had come home from an art exhibit, the sight had not been pretty at all. He was always harsh with him, lashing out with his fists sometimes when he was sober, but if he had a drink it always ended up much worse, Mikael favouring his belt after a few scotches. After his beating, Mikael kicked him out with all he had on him at the time, not wanting him around his family. Klaus didn't have any friends, he loved the solitude and preferred to be around his siblings if he needed conversation and connection so he had nowhere else to go. His funds was cut now that he wasn't a real Mikaelson and his pride left him to leave to city he called home invade he bumped into his siblings. He sold his phone and some rings he had on him, took the next bus out of Chicago to New York City, and that's where he has stayed ever since. The one thing he hated living rough, apart from the weather at times, was the looks of pity people cast him. He could deal with the ignorance, the dirty looks off some businessmen who reminded him of the reason he was in that situation. The weather wasn't so nice either, especially now it was winter. It had been constantly raining and he was soaked to the bone, the little covering he did have wasn't enough, so he was huddled in a ball, shivering. Looking down a pair of black heeled boots stopped and pointed at his direction, and once they didn't move for a few minutes Klaus looked at the see what they're problem was. He lifted his gaze to follow up the knee length boots, a sliver of tights peeking between the boots and a black fitted trench coat, a leather satchel in the brightest yellow slung on the person's waist. Carrying on inspecting higher, he saw two disposable hot drinks cups in gloved hands, matching scarf, then the most beautiful sight he had seen stood before him. Soft, blonde waves, framed the stunning pale, skin as she had her head tilted down towards him. Pink rosy cheeks, probably from her drink warming her up, and sparkling, blue eyes staring at him intently.

She looked like an angel.

An angel sent down to him in his time of need.

"Hi." She said softly as she thrust her hand with one of the drinks in toward him. "It's for you." She paused. "For you to drink." She added a bit more cautiously, his face must have looked incredulous. "Thanks." He spoke in trepidation. "My names Caroline." She smiled down at him still. "Klaus." "Come one then." She demanded as she took a step to the side and started walking. "Come where?" "I can't study in the rain." She looked at him with a slight frown, as if he was to know that bit of information, as if he knew her. "I'm not..." he began to say something, he wasn't sure what though. "I'm not gonna ask for your life story or whatever. Just thought you might appreciate someone to talk to in a warm and dry place. Well if you insist." She shrugged and started to walk away. He shot up quick and grabbed his bag before he knew it, following. The blonde woman, Caroline, tilted her head back to make sure he was following behind, smirking as he realised she caught him out. She slowed her steps so he walked with her and began talking about herself. Coaxing him to do the same.

She took him into a large public library and she and the librarian at the desk greeted each other warmly before she carried on into the building.

They silently walked through the library before Caroline directed him to an empty table and she placed her bag down at the table, shrugged her coat off and hung it on the back of the chair before she sat on it. Looking up at Klaus through her long lashes, a beautiful smile on her face, she nodded for him to sit down too, and after her not so subtle encouragement, he shuffled his way opposite her. He brought his hot coffee mug down in front of him and he cradled it between his hands to try and keep the warmth in them.

He watched in confusion as she grabbed a few books out of her bag and she put them about the place in a neatly manor, spotting books on various topics which he assumed was part of her college degree. He was so confused and wary at this young woman’s display of kindness and compassion towards him.

Klaus had mixed feelings of the topic.

He hated feeling weak and accepting help from anyone, he refused a lot of help throughout his time of being homeless, but he simply didn't understand why he suddenly felt grateful now. It simply couldn't be that she was beautiful, though that did have an added bonus, but he thinks it was because she hadn't treated him luck scum, she hadn't tried to belittle him and knock him down while he was already at rock bottom. No she simply saw him, saw him as a human going through a little difficulty and as though all her words can magic his worries and make his life better. Especially when her smile reached her blue eyes and they twinkled.

He berated himself for acting weak again and he looked down at his steaming coffee, getting lost in a world of his own.

Feeling eyes on him, he glanced up at Caroline who was looking at him shyly before she turned away to look around. “What?”

“We are in a library, why don’t you grab a few books to read or you’ll be bored stiff. I'm gonna be here all day.”

Chuckling to himself at her demand, he stood up and walked a few aisles of the library and grabbed a few art books, checking out some new artists local to New York always eager to learn new techniques.

Hours passed and Klaus and Caroline were having fun. The dark haired woman from the reception desk had come over a few times. It turns out she was Caroline's friend, and this was her part time job to help fund her degree. He tried not to listen into their conversations as he was a gentleman at heart. He had to admit teasing the blonde was amusing though, even though it was sort of ungentlemanly of him. But he adorned the way her eyes flared up when he proved she was wrong and the way her forehead creased while she concentrated on her studies. She had relentlessly teased him back though and he enjoyed her look of triumph when she had beat him in a little quiz she had to do for one of her coursework.

Seeing her so passionate in her work made him feel a little somber, he couldn't remember the last time he held a paintbrush in his hands, a pencil even to sketch, and oh, how he longed to draw this stunning goddess that gave him time of day.

“What's up?” she whispered, as if she felt his sadness radiate from him.

“Nothing.” “Come on Klaus, tell me. It may help to clear some stuff off your chest.” her voice soothed him, like a balm for his soul and healing his pain.

“It’s just reading about art. Its one of my passions and I haven't been able to draw in a while that’s all.” He explained, carrying on reading his book in front of him. “I miss it.” he confessed.

Sensing to leave the topic alone, Caroline carried on reading her own book, drifting them into a comfortable silence.

Evening was fast approaching and Caroline grabbed another notebook out of her bag before scribbling some stuff onto it, ripping the page ut and folding it. She slid it towards Klaus. “There's directions and location of the homeless shelter I work at. Food, shower and a roof over your head. Please go there, the storm is rolling in any day now.” She threw her coat on and stuffed her books back into her satchel, ignore him and any signs of protesting, which he was going to. “I’ll see you around, Klaus.” She called over her shoulder as she left the library, and him behind.

Safe to say he didn't turn up at the shelter that night.

Caroline found him two days later. She had hoped he had come to the shelter after their time spent together, but she saw the stubbornness set on his face. It was why she fled quickly, trying not to give him time to reject the idea. She had helped loads of people on the streets, day after day, but she couldn't understand why he was so different. Why she connected with him so fast, why she was desperate that he kept safe from the upcoming snow storm.

She walked around the streets of New York looking for him. She knew she was being stupid and that she may not find him in the metal jungle but she was determined to find him by tonight, before the first snowfall.

She felt foolish these past few days.

The night she left Klaus, she headed home only to bypass an art supplies shop, taking a few steps back, her feet compelled her into the store and she browsed the lavish stock they had. Caroline bought a few stuff though. A sketch pad and some pencils, hoping she would bump into him on her shifts at the shelter, but he was nowhere to be seen. So they sat in her apartment, still in its gift wrap, awaiting to be torn open by its rightful owner.

She finally spotted him across the street and she jumped through traffic to get to him on the other side. He looked up at her, startled when he registered who’s face it was under the hat and scarf she wrapped herself up in.

“Hello, love.” he smiled at her, causing her to frown at his happiness, while she was worried about him.

She huffed and stomped her foot slightly, mentally curing herself for acting like a spoilt brat but she carried on when his face morphed into amusement. “You!” She pointed at him, “You're coming with me, whether you like it or not.”

“I cant, sweetheart. The shelter would be closing right about now.”

Damn him and his stubbornness and for refusing her generosity. “Well it's a good thing I'm not taking you there. Now grab your stuff and move it.” She put on her best commanding voice, channeling her inner cheerleader and he raised his eyebrow at her before getting his stuff together and follow her.

She led him back to her apartment and opened the door, wondering if this was a good idea after all, but she trusted him and she trusted her gut, so Caroline widened the door to let him inside. Her home was a tiny one bedroom apartment but she had gone out and decorated it in light and homey colours with soft furnishings. She was proud of what she had achieved in life, no matter how little.

Caroline walked over to the sofa and pulled it out into a bed, leaving Klaus stand in the room alone as she grabbed spare sheets and bedding from the closet. He watched her, no, gaped at her as she settled into her task of turning the living room into a bedroom for her new guest.

“I don’t need your charity, Caroline.” He tried to growl at her, but it came out more of a shocked grunt.

Giggling she walked into the tiny kitchen space that was opened out into the living room and she fixed herself and Klaus a sandwich and a drink, turning to look at him. “Tough, you're getting it.”

She brought them back into the living room and was glad when she saw Klaus had took off his jacket and had sat down on the edge of the sofa bed, looking at the side table. Looking at his name scribbled on a piece of card on top of the wrapped art supplies.

“Thats for you. You would have had it sooner, but you didn't show up.” She bit into her sandwich and turned to television on, glancing over at him now and again to make sure he was eating, and opening his gift. He gasped in surprise once he did and he choked a thanks before looking away.

It wasn't even half an hour later when she heard the tell tale signs of pencil scratching over the parchment.

She really was excited to have him stay as a roommate.

Telling him he was staying was going to be a challenge though.

But she never backed down from those.

#klaroline #klaroline fanfiction #klarolinemashup #Ashleigh's fanfiction

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peopleandrhythm · 7 years

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Episode Thirteen, Part One: Hope for a Life That is Calm

Nota bene: I realized far too late into writing this that Hope’s birthday is canonically May 2. As both she and River were supposed to have already graduated high school at this point, clearly her birthday being so early makes little sense. Therefore, for this story, please note that Hope’s birthday is somewhere toward the end of May, not toward its beginning. I apologize for the inconsistency.

Don’t forget to read part two of this episode, which is already available at this time.

River’s perched on the marble-topped island in the kitchen, a bowl of Froot Loops in her hands. Her legs kick back and forth as Hope moves around her, assembling her own bowl of Cheerios. Crunching on the cereal, River says, “Ah dunno. Ah still fink tha ‘riginal Buffy movie’s betta than tha remake.”

Hope glares at her over her shoulder. “You’re crazy.”

River jabs her spoon toward her girlfriend, ready to argue her case, when a voice calls out from the courtyard, “Guess who’s here!”

The girls shoot each other confused looks, and then abandon their breakfasts, entering the courtyard to see what’s going on. They look to the entrance, where Hayley stands, a grin on her face, and right beside her—

“Mom!” River tears off, throwing herself onto her mother, who squeezes back.

“Hey, baby!” Rachel says. “I missed you!”

“I missed you, too.”

“Hi, Mrs. Monroe,” Hope says, now standing beside her own mother.

“Hiya, Hope.” Rachel holds her daughter at arm’s length and looks her up and down. “Look at you. Turned yourself into a wolf but you’re still in one piece.”

“More or less,” River agrees. “But what are you doing here? Where’s Dad?”

Hayley slides an arm around her daughter’s shoulders. “I invited her. For Hope’s party tonight.”

Both girls’ faces light up. “Really?”

Rachel nods. “Your daddy couldn’t make it. Something with work. But he sends his birthday wishes, Hope.”

“Thanks.”

Rachel’s eyes settle on River again, and this time, there’s a lot less joy there. “You know, you and I’re gonna have a talk about runnin’ away to chase girls across state lines.”

River stiffens; she’s in trouble. “About that—”

“How ‘bout we talk about it after you get home?”

Home. River swallows thickly, avoiding Hope’s stare. “Actually, Mom…I don’t think I’m gonna be going home.” She can hear the breath leave Hope’s body, but cannot bring herself to look at her.

“And why the hell not?”

River slowly pulls her phone out of her pocket and gives it a jiggle. “I got the email last night. I’ve been accepted off the Tulane waitlist.”

“What?” Hope throws her arms around River’s neck. “Congratulations! I’m so proud of you!”

River hugs her girlfriend back, but her eyes are locked on her mother’s face. There’s shock there, and pride, and something else she can’t quite identify.

But then her mother smiles, and kisses her forehead. “Congratulations, baby. I’m not surprised at all.” It’s a lie, but it feels nice.

Hayley, eager to diffuse the tension, suggests, “Why don’t you girls show River’s mom to her room? I think the one a few doors down from you should be finished.”

“Okay!” They lead the way up the stairs, Hope chattering a mile a minute about how close Tulane is to the compound as Rachel trails behind silently. Hayley leans back against a pillar and sighs. “This is gonna be a long day.”

The sounds of instruments warming up echoes through the still-empty halls of the compound, the party—the ball, really, with its fancy hors d’oeuvres and string quartet and tuxedo-clad waitstaff—still roughly an hour away from its start. Hayley stands in her new bedroom—our bedroom, she continually reminds herself, now that she and Elijah are finally able to share their lives together—and examines herself in the mirror. She looks exactly the same as she did eighteen years ago, when on a church altar she brought into this world the most important person she’ll ever meet. Her dress is tightly fitted to her body, black with intricate cream lace detailing about the bodice and hem. She smooths the fabric and reaches back to pull the zipper up, but she can’t reach. She contorts her arm at awkward angles, but nothing works.

“Would you like some help?”

She looks into the mirror to see Elijah behind her, already buttoned up in his tuxedo, classically black and elegant. He’s leaning against the doorframe, head angled as his eyes roam up and down.

She smiles wryly at him through the mirror. “If you don’t mind.”

Slowly he approaches, his fingers catching the zipper at the small of her back and inching it upward. His knuckle grazes the curve of her spine as it moves up, and she rolls her eyes. “I’m starting to think this is a thing for you.”

“Whatever could you possibly be referring to?” he replies with a playful lilt to his tone. Once the dress is zipped, his arms slide comfortably around her waist, and he presses his face alongside hers. “I do recall another dress. White, lots of buttons. Plenty of room for a bump.”

Hayley hums a laugh. “Can’t believe that bump is now an eighteen-year-old.”

“And yet her mother is just as radiant as the day she gave birth to her.”

“And her uncle’s just as big a flatterer.” That earns a laugh from Elijah. “I’m still not sure about tonight. Should we even be here? I don’t see this city getting any safer for us.”

Elijah takes her hand in his and spins her around so they’re no longer looking at each other through the mirror. “I…agree that it is odd that Marcel Gerard has yet to…force us out of New Orleans. And yet…” He gives a hopeful smile. “Perhaps your daughter has sweetened his somewhat sour opinion of our family.”

Hayley doesn’t look convinced. “The last time we were here, he tried to kill you and Kol, and he kept Klaus bricked in a wall for fifteen years.”

“Fair point.” He gently kisses her forehead. “Call me an idealist, but I truly believe that we can finally make this city the home for your daughter that you always hoped for.”

“Well, we’ve been here a matter of days and already her girlfriend’s been kidnapped and she’s been held prisoner by her father to keep her away from covens of angry witches, so, yeah…that sounds like the New Orleans I remember.” She sighs. “Still…when we first got here, Hope was determined to stay and fight for a city that she didn’t even know. That is the girl I raised. But me…I just wanted to run. To get her as far away from here as possible.” She looks up at Elijah. “How did I become this? I swore I would never teach my daughter to run away from a fight, and yet as soon as we got here I wanted to leave.”

“You have spent the past fifteen years raising your daughter alone, protecting her from the things in this world that would cause her harm. I hardly think you could be blamed for trying to do your job.”

Hayley gives half a shrug. “Yeah, well…maybe it’s time I learned from her. If she wants to stay, to be a part of this community…I guess I’m willing to give it a shot. Again.”

Elijah trails the backs of his fingers up her arm, across her shoulder, and up her neck, where he rests his hand to pull her into a kiss. Then he steps back and offers her his arm. “Shall we?”

She loops her arm through his and gestures vaguely to the door. “Well, there’s no way this can go wrong.”

Hope stares wide-eyed at herself in a full-length mirror, twisting her body this way and that to take it all in. Her dress, emerald green with a halter bodice and a long satin skirt, is the single most beautiful thing she’s ever put on her body, and it feels simultaneously perfect and foreign. Her hair is curled into an elaborate updo, courtesy of Rebekah. The skirt swishes as she moves, and suddenly she feel very, very adult.

Her eyes are still glued to her reflection when the door opens. They flick up to see River entering the bedroom, and both of them freeze as they take each other in. River’s wearing a one-shoulder drop waist gown in a magnificent deep purple, her train trailing out behind her. Her hair is twisted into a beautiful pouf on one side of her head. The girls stare at each other through the mirror, each captivated by the other.

“Wow,” Hope breathes after a long while.

“Wow,” River agrees. “You look—”

“You look—” They both laugh at their awkwardness. Hope turns to face River properly. “Bet this isn’t what you expected for an eighteenth birthday party.”

“Well what about you?” River picks up the front of her dress and walks over to Hope so they can both look into the mirror. “Like, a week ago you and your mom were living in a rental house smaller than some of the apartments near campus. And now…look at you. I’m pretty sure that dress costs more than that house.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re right.” She tips her head onto River’s shoulder. “I don’t know if I know how to be a Mikaelson. It’s a name I’ve…clung to my entire life, but…now that I’m faced with the reality of it…”

“Hey, at least you’ve always known who the Mikaelsons were. I’m just now finding out that my family is a werewolf line, and that I’m the end of that line.”

“Mm, true.”

River laces her fingers with Hope’s and squeezes. “I think you’re going to be great. Don’t forget, your family already loves you. It’s not like you have to prove anything to them. If anything, I bet your dad would find it hilarious if you found a way to screw up Elijah’s party.” She looks down at her girlfriend. “You know what you have to do?”

“Channel my inner Blue Ivy?”

“Channel the hell out of your inner Blue Ivy.”

“I think I can do that.” Hope lifts her head to give River a quick kiss. Then she says, “Thanks for being here.”

“Hey, as long as you keep paying me in dope-ass dresses, I’ll be here. Now, I have to go to Rebekah’s room, something about ‘the sharpest cat-eye you’ll ever see in your entire life.’” She starts to head for the door, but something catches her eye. “Hey, your birthmark.”

Hope looks over her shoulder in the mirror. Her sleeveless dress puts her crescent moon birthmark prominently on display. “Oh yeah. I didn’t think about that.”

“You usually keep it covered up, that’s all. I forget you have it.” She smiles. “I love it.”

“My mom always told me I needed to keep it hidden, that if someone recognized us we could be in danger. But here…” She shrugs. “Everyone knows I’m a Crescent. And a Mikaelson. And a witch. There’s not much left to hide.”

“Plus it’s cute.”

Hope laughs. “Plus it’s cute.”

Dressed in a crisp, deep maroon suit, Marcel strolls through the Mikaelson courtyard, glancing about at the elegant décor. He stops to swipe a canapé off of the food table, and is just popping it into his mouth when a voice behind him says, “I didn’t think kings normally stooped to stealing food before a party.”

Marcel turns lazily to see Klaus, in a gray three-piece suit with a purple tie, judging him with an eyebrow raised. Marcel lifts his own hands in innocence, swallowing the canapé. “Hey, I just came to make a peace offering.”

“A peace offering?” Klaus gasps in mock astonishment. “Am I to believe that the great Marcel Gerard has deemed the lowly Mikaelsons fit to remain in his most glorious city?”

Resisting an eye roll, Marcel says, “If things were different, I’d’ve had your asses out of city limits days ago. If things were different, you’d still be locked up in your own basement.” Klaus’s eyes narrow dangerously. “But things are what they are, and I’m not here to start a fight. In fact, I’m here to prevent one.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“My nightwalkers. There’s a small army of them outside.” Outrage colors Klaus’s face, but Marcel quickly elaborates. “They’re here for protection. Man, it’s Hope’s birthday. I don’t wanna see anything go down tonight. They’re just gonna be standing guard. I swear it on my life.”

Klaus seems mollified, but he warns, “It will be on your life, because if those nightwalkers so much as look at my daughter or her girlfriend the wrong way, I will come for you.”

A calm smile spreads across Marcel’s face. “Don’t forget, you can’t kill me. But your concern is noted.”

He starts to walk away toward the bar, but stops when he hears, “Marcellus.” He turns back to see Klaus, eyes downcast. “Thank you.”

Marcel nods, and then goes to order himself a drink.

River finds her mom in her guest bedroom, perched on the bed in a long, yellow gown. She’s looking down at her cell phone. “Hey.”

Rachel looks up at her daughter, standing nervously in the doorway. “Hey, baby. C’mon in.” River enters, closing the door behind her, and sits on the bed next to her mom. “You look so beautiful, baby girl. When did you grown up? Wasn’t it yesterday your daddy and I were droppin’ you off at preschool, with your lil’ Rapunzel backpack? Thing was bigger than you were.”

River laughs. “Mom…” She looks down at the floor. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Tulane.”

“River…”

“No. I know you guys expected me to go to a state school. They’re cheaper, obviously. And more convenient. If I went to Florida State, I could still live at home, keep my job at the restaurant. I know it’s the smart thing to do.”

“…But you wanna go to Tulane.”

River’s still avoiding her mother’s searching eyes. “They’ve got an amazing medicine program, and…you know I’ve always wanted to be a vet. And…well, Hope’s going to be here. Probably. Definitely.” River lets out a dry laugh. “It’s not like she can leave now.”

“Huh?”

She shakes her head. “Never mind. I should have talked to you and Dad about this, but…I like New Orleans.” Except for the kidnappers, she doesn’t say. “It’s a lot bigger than Tallahassee, and I think…I think I could use something bigger in my life right now.” She pauses. “Plus…there’s a pack here. I mean, you and Dad will always be my pack, but…this wolf thing is hard, and I could use all the help I can get.”

They’re silent for a few moments, the clock on the wall ticking down the seconds until Rachel finally says, “Okay.”

River turns to look at her mother, eyes wide. “Okay?”

“I ain’t sayin’ it’s gonna be easy. But if this is what you wanna do…”

“It is!” River throws her arms around her mother. “Thank you! I promise, I’ll do whatever it takes to make this work.”

“Careful, don’t wrinkle your dress!” They both laugh. “Alright, baby. We’ll figure out the messy bits later. We’ve got a party to get to.”

He finds her on her balcony, her face tipped up toward the barely-waning moon. She is bathed in its soft blue light, and it hits him suddenly, painfully: his daughter is a woman. He clears his throat, and she looks down, but not back at him. “Hi.” It’s cool, to say the least.

Klaus drops a thin square box wrapped in shiny gold paper onto her bed and then walks up to the balcony doors. “A princess surveying her kingdom.”

Hope stiffens at that. She looses a breath. “Right. I’m a princess, which makes you…a king?” She’s still not looking at him.

“Hope, I would like…to apologize for insinuating that my political machinations are taking precedence over you.” He steps forward and places a hand on her elbow, gently turning her to look at him. “You will always be the most important thing in my life.”

“Am I?” Hope’s face blooms into something melancholic. “I can’t be a tool for you to grab power, Dad. I can’t be…I need to know that you actually give a shit about me, and not what I can give you.”

Heart breaking, Klaus pulls his daughter into a hug, her face pressed against his chest. “My littlest wolf…” He rests his chin atop her head. “I have not been the father you deserve. I don’t know if know how to be that father. I never had one, a good father who loved his children above all else. I had a tyrant, and I swore to myself, to your mother, and to you that I would not become him.” He grasps Hope’s shoulders and pushes her away so he can look her directly in the eyes. “I have broken that oath. I may very well break it again. I have a thousand years of living to unlearn. All I can ask for is your patience, and your forgiveness as I try to figure out how to be the father you deserve.”

Hope sniffs, and reaches a finger up to wipe under her eyes. “As far as apologies go, that didn’t suck.” She laughs, and her father smiles warmly. “Maybe I shouldn’t expect perfection from someone who never got the chance to actually be a dad.” She slowly sticks her hand into the pocket of her dress and pulls out a faded, wrinkled envelope. The breath leaves Klaus’s body. “I’ve been trying to work up the courage to read this all day.” She turns it over in her hands, staring at the word Hope written in small script across the front. “Mom gave this to me on my tenth birthday, told me to read it whenever I was ready.” She hands it to him. “I think I’m ready now.”

Hands slightly shaking, Klaus carefully opens the envelope and removes the folded piece of paper from inside. The smell of the paper reminds him of that day in Lucien Castle’s penthouse, of the sacrifices that his entire family made to keep each other safe. He unfolds the letter, and in the barest whisper, reads, “My dearest Hope, I do not know how this will find you: as a child full of wonder, a teenager full of opinions, or a woman…” He takes a deep breath. “…a woman with the world at her feet. I write to tell you that I love you, and to explain that in our family’s darkest hour, I was called upon to save my siblings, and I did so. Please, do not mourn me. Whatever pain I endure, I do in service of those I love. My sole regret is that I will be away from you.

“Be good to your mother. I draw comfort knowing that she will protect you. And I know she will not rest until our family is united. Until then, my sacrifice will allow you to grow, to become the beautiful daughter…the beautiful daughter I can now only imagine. Please remember that you are the legacy this family has always desired, the promise we fought to protect. You will always be…our hope.”

Hope’s eyes are closed, a tear sliding down one cheek. Klaus wipes it away with the pad of his thumb, and then bends down to kiss her forehead. “You are my hope,” he murmurs. “Never, ever forget that.”

Hope nods. She wants to tell him, can feel the words burning in her chest: I’m the Advocate. But they get stuck in her throat, so instead she chuckles through her tears and, wiping at her eyes, says, “And my makeup looked so good.”

“You look beautiful.”

“You have to say that, you’re my dad.”

“True, but flattery isn’t my only gift.” He gestures toward the bed, and Hope turns to look.

Seeing the present, Hope gives her father an intrigued glance and heads inside. She sits down and carefully peels away the gift wrap. She reveals a thin box of red oak with brass hinges. Curious, she opens the box, and her jaw drops. “Dad…” She lifts one of the paintbrushes up to examine it. “They’re beautiful.” She spies a small inscription toward the top of the handle, and looks closer. It reads hope in beautiful calligraphy. “Dad, did you carve these?”

Klaus nods proudly. “Same oak as the box they come in. I know we still have a lot to learn about each other, but art is a passion we share, and I wanted to honor that.”

Hope gently replaces the paintbrush into the set and then wraps her arms around her father once more. “Thank you.”

Klaus holds his daughter, heart full to bursting, before stepping back and holding out his arm. “I think it’s time we introduce the city of New Orleans to its most spectacular child.”

Hope takes a deep breath, and then lets it out. She stands and weaves her arm through her father’s. “Let’s go.”

Theo’s dressed all in black, a woman on a mission as she takes long-legged strides through Lafayette Cemetery, her heeled boots clacking menacingly on the stone. Leanne can barely keep up as they march toward the LeRoy crypt. “It could be anybody,” she argues, trying not to fall behind. “If it were me, I’d be lying low. It could be weeks before we figure it out.”

“I don’t have weeks,” Theo snaps, rounding a corner. Leanne scrambles behind her. “The longer that…usurper has the sole ear of the ancestors, the harder it’s going to be to rip that power away from them.”

There’s thunderous footsteps behind them, soon joined by the sound of labored breathing. Suddenly, Dominic is running up, cutting in front of the women to make them stop. “Theo!”

Theo moves to push past him. “Not now, Dom—”

Dom steps in front of her again. “I have news from one of our scouts.”

That gives Theo pause. “Which one?”

“Michael.”

Impatiently, Theo asks, “Michael from the Quarter or Michael from the Tremé?”

“Michael, the one tailing Vincent.”

Now she’s definitely interested. “And what does he have to tell us about our dear regent?”

“Big news: he knows who the Advocate is.”

And with that, a slow, wicked grin lights up Theo’s face.

The string quartet is playing an up-tempo number, an instrumental cover of a song from Lady Gaga’s 2021 album. Most of the guests, all bedecked in finery typical of a Mikaelson affair, are either dancing or milling about, the light hum of conversation the constant harmony to the music. Hope’s hiding by the food table, keeping her hands and mouth full of circles of bruschetta, a convenient excuse to avoid socializing. River’s off dancing with her mother, and Hope can see her father schmoozing with some people who look important. She’s not sure where the rest of her family is, but as it stands, when she looks out at the crowd, she hardly sees anyone she recognizes.

“You don’t look like you’re having much fun.” Hope turns to see Rebekah, stunning in a red dress with a nearly completely see-through bodice, smiling at her sympathetically. Behind her stands Freya, in a sleeveless white dress of her own.

She smiles wryly at her aunts. “Yeah, I’m starting to think that this maybe isn’t my speed.”

“Nonsense,” Freya says. She gently removes the tray of bruschetta from Hope’s hands, ignoring the birthday girl’s noise of protest, and sets it back on the long food table. “You may have been raised by Hayley Marshall, but you’re a Mikaelson, and Mikaelsons love a good soirée.”

“This is Elijah’s fault,” Rebekah insists. “He’s so boring.”

“Come.” Freya hooks her arm through Hope’s, and then Rebekah’s doing the same on the other side. “Dance with your aunts.”

Hope allows herself to be dragged into the middle of the courtyard, where’s she’s spun in a circle by Rebekah. A laugh bubbles out of her, and soon she’s fallen prey to the music, swaying and twirling and stepping in time. Before long, River and her mother have joined their small dance circle, and the five of them are full to bursting with laughter. The song ends, and a light applause scatters among the partygoers. A bright smile still on her face, Hope stumbles away to swipe a glass of water off of a server’s tray. As she sips, she feels something press into her hand.

Surprised, she looks about; there’s no one around her. She opens her hand, and there’s a crumpled piece of paper there. Hope steps into a corner, glass abandoned on a different server’s tray, and flattens the note. Come into the tunnels, she reads. Nothing else, just one sentence penned in an untidy scrawl. Her eyes scan the crowd again; no one’s looking at her, no one’s acting suspiciously.

She briefly considers going to one of her parents, but it would take her ages to find them in the throng, and besides, she’s far stronger now than she was when Theo lured her to the City of the Dead. Just like that, her mind is made up, and she’s once more crumpling the note into her fist.

The music is faint behind her as Hope descends the final steps into the tunnels below the Mikaelson compound. There’s a short hallway that curves, dumping her into a large cavern, the very same one in which her father had been kept prisoner for fifteen years. Waiting for her in its center are the last three people she expected to see: Marcel, Vincent, and Rose.

Face colored with confusion, Hope enters the cavern tentatively. “What is this?” She lifts the balled-up note in her hand. “I got your message.”

Marcel rubs his hands together. “We need to talk.”

“Yeah, I got that much.”

Vincent steps forward. “Look Hope, when you told me that you had been granted access to the ancestors—”

Eyes wide, Hope cuts him off. “You told them? After telling me to keep my mouth shut?”

“They needed to know, Hope, because like me, they’ve come to realize something pretty important about you.”

“And what’s that?” Hope’s tone is edging on defensive.

He shrugs, a soft smile on his face. “That you are the key to bringing peace to New Orleans.”

Hope stares. “Okay, look, I’ve got a party to get back to—”

“Listen to him, Hope.” It’s the first time Rose has spoken. She looks so much different than she had out in the bayou, now dressed in a bohemian-style dress with a long blue skirt. “What he’s saying makes sense.”

Hope’s eyes flick back to Vincent, and he takes that as his cue to continue. “For over a century, this city has known war. We have had kings and tyrants and everything in between and none of ‘em have been able to establish a lasting peace.

“But you…you are different, Hope Mikaelson. You don’t represent one of us. No, you represent all of us. A New Orleans witch, born of a New Orleans wolf and one of the vampires who built New Orleans from its very bricks. This city lives in in you. It is the blood in your veins, the breath in your lungs. There is no one we can trust more to lead us—lead us to peace, to community…to the New Orleans we have always dreamed of.”

Hope’s slack-jawed, shaking her head just perceptibly. “You’re crazy,” she breathes. “You’re all crazy.”

“You feel it, don’t you?” Marcel steps forward, and Hope watches him cautiously. “Vincent told me ‘bout how you described being in this city when you first came back. You felt it in you, felt it calling to you.”

“I don’t see how—”

“This is your legacy, Hope,” Vincent says. “Your daddy thought himself a king, and your momma was queen to them wolves out in the bayou.” Rose’s jaw clenches but she doesn’t interrupt. “We believe that you are the one who can bring these communities together in the name of a peace we ain’t had in generations.”

“So will you do it?” Hope’s eyes snap back to Marcel. “Will you step up to lead this city, the city that gave you life, the city that went to war for you? Will you be the queen we’ve been waiting a long time to follow?”

Stunned into silence, Hope can’t do anything but gape, wide-eyed and breathless, between the three most powerful people in New Orleans.

Despite the covert elbow-rubbing and the low murmur of gossip that ripples through the crowd, the party isn’t actually terrible. Hayley stands on the first floor balcony, leaning out over the courtyard below with a glass of whiskey in her hand. She takes a sip, watching Rebekah pull a resigned Elijah into a dance. She smiles, thinking of the dance she shared with him earlier in the night.

There’s a sudden presence beside her. Not even bothering to look, she says, “If you want some of the good stuff, you’re going to have to raid your own liquor cabinet.”

“I think I’m fairly well-educated as to the location of the best alcohol in this house,” Klaus says dryly. “Rebekah is not as sneaky as she likes to imagine.”

The parents stand beside each other, passively observing the party below. Hayley spies River talking with Freya near the makeshift stage. She assumes that Hope is lost in the mass of dancers, given that the quartet is currently delivering an expert rendition of a Beyoncé hit. Quietly she says, “For what it’s worth, I did my best to make sure that the idea she had of her father was something…hopeful. I tried to keep all of the bad things away—not just about you, but about…all of it. This life. I wasn’t always successful, but…”

“Of course you were successful.” Hayley’s surprised by the conviction in Klaus’s voice. “No one could look at this child, our child, and say that she is anything less than perfection.” Hayley smiles softly. “Obviously I would have given anything to be able to spend these most important years with our daughter, but if she had to be raised by one person…there is no one better I could have chosen for the task.”

“She really is something, isn’t she?” Hayley sighs.

“She’s tenacious, and stubborn, and powerful…rather mouthy, too. All traits I’m sure she’s learned from her mother.”

Hayley rolls her eyes. “Right, because her stubbornness couldn’t possibly have come from the parent who has spent a millennium sticking his siblings with daggers because they annoy him.”

Klaus’s smile is half-abashed, half-pleased. “Well…”

Before Klaus can finish his thought, every light in the compound goes out, plunging the partygoers into inky black darkness.

#tvd #the originals #originals #originals fic #tvd fic #people and rhythm #pr 1x13

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