#triguilt

hope  said  ♡  :          “     you  and  me  together  is  more  than  chemistry.     ”

“       is this the intro to a  nerd  joke,  or are you   flirting   with me ?       ”         she asks,  brow quirked slightly despite the amused   t i l t   of her lips.  she picks up one of the homemade chips from the plate between them and pops it into her mouth before looking off to the side,  glancing around the small diner they’d found themselves in. a diner they’d visited  s e v e r a l  times since their first  one-on-one  challenge.  admittedly,  maybe they should have toned it down  b e f o r e  both their teams had put their feet down and ditched them.  but both of them were just  naturally  competitive  ...  and emery would be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy the  banter  of it all.  the tension was part of what made it that much more  f u n .

when they’d been challenged to take it a little  less  seriously  ....   well,  at least emery had merely   l a u g h e d .   however,  they’d found a way around it.  mainly by just playing  more.  she and hope had begun to play one-on-one as well.  often a  p r a c t i c e  before their teams competed.  it stopped them from losing their  m i n d s  on the court with other people,  sure.  but em preferred the fact it  also  tended to be accompanied with dinner after both games,  in honor of their  FIRST  one-on-one.  they had a running tally on their victories  ...  and their ties.  that neither of them could agree on.  regardless of who won,  thy typically ended up here,   more or less taking turns paying since their games often ended up in   t i e s.

despite how  competitive  emery was,  she found herself less bothered with each tied game.  while she’d never admit it,  maybe her friends were  right.  intramural could just be   f u n .   however,  that didn’t mean they were anything less than  FERAL  on the court.  it just meant that when they were   o f f ,   they’d really begun to settle into something  different.  what that was,  emery wasn’t really sure about.  she merely knew she was enjoying it.

Being caught at all by Malivore, by an infernal creation of mortals- some more durable than others but still MORTAL, still capable of death- had burned enough in her throat.

Then being spat out, with the attempts at a compulsion at her head- [ laughable, it’s LAUGHABLE that anything thinks it could compel or command her to do a damn thing- ] 

And caught while disoriented by a human hunter, locked in a bloody basement.

She is- in a foul mood. So when footsteps are audible she pauses and bares her teeth at the doorway- more out of irritation than any true aggression. Not a vampire’s teeth, but fanged all the same- four along the top jaw, two at the bottom. 

           Life had been a complete whirlwind for the Saltzmans for as long as Josie could remember. Though, really, it was more the Parker’s fault than their father’s side of the family. Still, she could see the tight lines in her father’s face, the barely concealed anger behind tightened lips and the slight furrow of his brow. Music played softly through the car radio as they drove ( a fact Josie was grateful for, the nausea of the ride combined with what was about to happen too much to bear without at least a bit of music helping distract her ), and Josie kept her eyes off of the road outside, lest she make herself sick. Lizzie had opted not to come this time, promising they’d see each other before the ceremony itself, and the goodbye had been tearful, more like they were off to their own funerals rather than something that was supposed to be joyous. 

It was a small comfort that this wasn’t the first time meeting Hope Mikaelson. She wasn’t sure if she could handle the anxiety of not being able to measure up to whatever idea Hope had of her in her head. The entirety of this situation was so beyond comprehensible. Being the heir of a mob family ( was that the correct terminology, even? she had absolutely no clue. ), and then immediately being carted off to marry the daughter of another, more powerful family. It was like it was right out of a movie. Only less fun to watch unfold. She’d promised her dad that she was okay with it, even with him promising he’d protect her if she didn’t want to. But.. that was a lie. Not that she wasn’t okay, more so that she wasn’t sure if she was okay with it. How does one begin to process this whole thing at eighteen?

When they arrived in New Orleans, she could feel the nervous lump in her throat grow thicker. There was enough time to check in with Alaric at the hotel but after that, they were off to the compound, her dad looking more and more upset the closer they got. There was meant to be a dinner party with the entire family to welcome her. Some formality of some sort, but she wasn’t sure if that was how things usually went or if it was the Mikaelsons being old-fashioned. There was still so much about this new world she didn’t know. Josie figured watching The Sopranos and Godfather wouldn’t actually prepare her very well for it all, despite Lizzie’s joking suggestions when they were both panicking over what was to come. 

God, she hoped her sister was okay and that the family was being good to her. Her jaw twitched and tightened as she remembered them compiling a packet together detailing out her medications, doctors, triggers, and how to help her get through episodes. Tears pricked at her eyes when she thought about not being there for her when she most needed her. This was too much, but she had to get it together. They were literally a few steps from the door, and her bags felt heavier than ever. 

“i try to be.”           whether that was quiet reassurance or a subtle avoidance of actually confessing if he really was or not, even river wasn’t entirely sure. perhaps a bit both, the former just to try and keep her from worrying. it was said with enough earnestness and enough sincerity in his eyes that it could be believable that he was trying, even if the immediacy and casualness of the remark could be interpreted as a little bit of lightheartedness. “ ... i appreciate that, though,” river added after a moment, expression softening up a bit. he met her eyes, making the contact in concerted effort to really convey his honest in that. it was rare that someone expressed that sort of thing to him; happiness wasn’t exactly the priority in the barkley household, probably because it was just assumed that it would come with wealth and status and success. river was still struggling to find happiness in any of those prospects, at least in ways that were actually substantive and meaningful. he couldn’t remember the last time someone had actually so directly expressed that they simply wanted him to be happy. no caveats, no conditions, no ‘but’ to flip it around or twist it in the opposite favor. his smile grew just a bit, lifting slightly at the corners of his lips as some light sparked a bit in his eyes. “and i only wanna see you happy, too. you deserve it just as much as you think i do. probably even more.” river shifted a bit to face her more completely, another change in physicality to communicate how seriously he meant what he was saying. “for all the energy you put into protecting other people and sticking up for those you care about ... you deserve to give some of that back to yourself. or, at least, to get it in return.”

plotted starter for @triguilt​​

Ten years. An entire decade. That’s how long it’s been since her brother put his seven year old child into her care. Ten years since Hope has become something like her own child and they got to start a quiet albeit temporary life that they never would’ve had otherwise. It’s been ten years since she’s had to start teaching Hope things that any guardian would be responsible for: Mathematics, science, and eventually... how to kill someone in cold blood.

The latter’s felt like a fantasy after so many years of training for some hypothetical situation, but with one encounter, the hypothetical has claimed its due reality. Rebekah’s heart hammers as she’s crouched down on all fours on the floor in the living room, sporting yellow rubber gloves and hastily sponging blood into a bucket. Beside her is her regular phone with recent urgent texts to Hope confirming her safety and urging her home immediately, and a burner phone (one she was beginning to think she’d never use) with only one text received and one text sent only moments ago: “Get out. Cover’s up.” “No shit.”

She never wanted this for Hope, let alone for herself. She spent years of her own life trying to figure out ways to escape the violence and expectations that came with being a Mikaelson, and now it’s come for the teenager who would be home any second, not knowing that her life was about to change forever. A string of curses reminiscent of the mother country she hasn’t known in nearly a lifetime lace her shallow breaths. No matter what they decide to do, they could no longer remain here safely. More like the man who Rebekah caught breaking in could be on their way this instant.