alpha queen

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His instant and dramatic rage was entirely predictable, absolutely expected. The canvas was ripped from its stand, disfigured in whatever image he had been attempting to create to soothe himself tonight, and Hayley did not flinch an inch. Maybe she had wanted this reaction — no, she definitely had. Klaus was an easy target these days. Because he was hurt and angry and grieving, just as much as she was ( not as much as she was, the bitter voice in her mind corrected, no one could be as upset as her, it wasn’t fair, that was her girl, who she had chosen — ). It was easy to be angry with him, to lash out and strike where it would hurt most. And she knew all his weak spots, all the tiny little clinks in his armour.

Feet remained planted as he got into her face, eyes boring into hers with the intensity that was so very familiar these days, lacking in the affection — ‘the highest regard’, as he so claimed — she had grown too used to. Maybe it was inevitable that they would end up here. After all, he really did destroy every relationship he had ever had eventually. Look at his siblings. 

❛ So you’re saying it’s not true ? You’re saying you don’t have eleven fucking centuries of proof ? ❜  Her laugh was sharp, acid. ❛ Look around you, Klaus. ❜ Mocking, she spread her arms wide to his art studio, the echoing house. ❛ No one’s here. Except me. Nobody wants to deal with your grief, your anger, because they know you’ll just tear them apart, all because you can. ❜ Like she was doing right now. Somewhere deep inside, she knew, but hypocrisy was human nature — her nature — particularly in difficult moments like this. ❛ Even she couldn’t be bothered with you when you were like this. ❜ Her mention of Olivia was sure to push him over the edge. 

She welcomed it. She needed a release, needed to have her own anger thrown back at her. 

continued from ✶

starter call  |  @fightforbetter​

        “  you’re  loitering.  “  a  curious,  not  particularly  threatening  voice  chimes  as  front  door  swings  open,  eyes  landing  on  the  brunette  standing  only  a  few  feet  away.  she’d  peaked  through  the  blinds  —–  she  seemed  unarmed.  regardless,  she  takes  comfort  in  the  gun  safely  hidden  in  the  back  of  her  waistband,  strategically  covered  by  her  cardigan.  this  wouldn’t  be  the  first  time  her  home  was  invaded  in  broad  daylight  by  less  than  friendly  creatures.  “  if  you’re  looking  for  the  argents,  you  found  them.  one  of  them,  at  least.  “

She had been hesitating, once again, on whether she should approach her cousin or not. Would it really be worth it? Allison Argent could — very likely would — turn her away, disown her as easily as her adoptive parents did. Easier in fact. She and the other woman didn’t have a relationship for her to disown Hayley in any meaningful way. So why was she so nervous? It was a simple meeting and then …

@paintedstory​ sent: 📖 for my muse to read out an entry in their journal/diary about yours.

❛ We arrived in Paris this morning. An hour before landing we once again joined the Mile High Club. The looks we get when we come out never fail to amuse me. ❜ Head lolling against the pillow, she turned her smile on him, amused, mischievous, coy glint in her eye. 

The pair were lying in the bed atop the duvet as she read out some of the entries to her journal documenting their travels. She had never been the kind of girl to keep a diary. Granted, she hadn’t had anywhere to keep a diary when she was living out of a duffel as a teen and then there had never been any time to write one. But Selene had said that it was a good way to document life, to remember the good moments, so Hayley decided to take it up as they explored the world together. It would be nice to look back, decades from now, and remember it afresh.

❛ Klaus wants to take me to see the beauties of the city, though he’s been in a particularly charming mood and claims the real view here is me. I don’t disagree but I’m sure Paris has plenty to offer. At the very least he’ll get to paint me with a proper French background to match. ❜ Her tone was playful, teasing, but it softened, knowing what was coming. ❛ It’s been so nice to have this time to ourselves without worrying about the family and everything else. To just be whatever we want to be. I feel like for the first time in over a century we’re free. ❜

Reading it aloud made a twinge of guilt stir within her — she hadn’t known it sounded so harsh, that their family was a burden that kept them tied down unwanted. It was the opposite that was truth — their family was the only thing that kept them grounded, steady, and when they lost one ... 

❛ That’s not how I meant it. ❜ Hayley propped herself up on her elbow to face him fully, the journal dropped onto the bed between them unceremoniously. ❛ I wouldn’t trade — ❜

   Teeth flashed in a broad grin, unable to help himself from a healthy dose of amusement that came at the accusation. It was spot on, and they both knew it. Jacob had never been one to back down to a challenge, stubborn as a mule, and certainly bullheaded. He deserved every bit of the criticism, and it was nothing he hadn’t heard in other forms before. His dad loved to make such statements of his son, as did his sisters and pretty much anyone who had the span of time to make assessments of him. He shrugged innocently enough – sure, he was stubborn as hell, but not so bad that he couldn’t admit it, either to her or himself. 

   “Doing things the hard way makes it more fun,” he said with a casual air, smirking and giving his head a dismissive shake. I am what I am, and that’s all. “You used to know all about fun. Oh yeah, I remember.” Another grin, tongue pressing against the inside of an incisor cheekily, a glint of mischief in dark eyes. “I get it though – you’re a mom now. I’m a dad.” It still felt strange as hell to say aloud, but he was trying to get accustomed to more than just the title he’d inherited when he took on the responsibility of his daughter. Being called dad was the least of his troubles. Though tonight, with Auntie Leah on the watch duty, he was free. Freer than he’d been in weeks. Which was what led him to the one spot in town that he was assured an adrenaline rush no matter the time of day or night. The edge of the world. The cliffs. “But I still know how to have fun.”

A laugh erupted out of her, half-affronted but mostly amused. As if she couldn’t have fun now that she was a mom. ❛Hey, I taught you how to have fun, Jacob Black. I still got it, Mom or no.❜ Though, admittedly, it had been a long time she had the kind of fun they used to have. Back when they were carefree, or at least much more than they could afford to be now. 

The wind rushed past her ears, promising the adrenaline that came from jumping off and crashing into the water below. This was the kind of thing she would never be able to do with Zoe, terrified her daughter would copy her. But Zoe was helping Leah with the baby, so they had the moment to themselves, unburdened by concern and worry about their daughters.

anon asked: dragon: tag someone who you see as really dedicated to their muse. 

@neverafters​ & anon asked: werewolf: tag someone who is one-in-a-million and comes through when you need them.

@paintedstory​ asked 🎼 for a song that reminds me of our muses.

This was hard because you already know all the songs from our playlist! So I’ve been trying to think of one that we haven’t talked about and added yet and I’ve decided My Immortal by Evanescence is a good one for when they’re becoming estranged though haven’t actually split! 

❛ and if you have to leave I wish you’d just leave // ‘cause your presence still lingers here // and it won’t leave me alone ❜

❛ these wounds won’t seem to heal // this pain is just too real // there’s just too much that time cannot erase ❜

❛ when you cried I’d wipe away all of your tears // when you screamed I’d fight away all of your fears // and I held your hand through all these years ❜

@cursedbcrn​ sent 😙 for my muse’s reaction to yours being super affectionate.

She had been lying on the sofa, mindlessly flicking through the channels, when Hope slumped down beside her, curled in close as not to fall off the edge. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around her daughter, kept them pressed up against one another in the small space. The familiar and always comforting scent of Hope enveloped her, like the softest blanket after a rough day. 

❛ Oh, I do your cuddles. ❜ Hayley pulled her closer, buried her face in Hope’s hair, briefly, then tucked her daughter’s head beneath her chin. ❛ You alright, sweetie ? ❜  Not that she didn’t appreciate the affectionate ( always; if she had it her way she’d have Hope in her arms every minute, where she could keep her safe, secure, loved ), but she’d already noticed her daughter’s quietness on the way home from the Salvatore Boarding School. Hope wasn’t really the kind to move in for a cuddle, Hayley being the instigator of their physical affectionate for the most part. So ... something was up, that she knew. ❛ Orrrrr, if you’d rather not talk about it, we can totally watch a movie. ❜ Remote still in hand, she twisted her wrist around to present it to Hope. It was never good to push her to talk when she didn’t want to. Hopefully this way she’d open up herself, once she felt comfortable enough to do so. Hopefully. 

Even if Hope never spoke tonight, she would appreciate having her there with her. Hayley missed her so much when she was at Salvatore. She missed the days where this kind of thing was common, Hope huddling in close whenever she wanted. Why did her baby have to grow up ?