a witch bows to no man @hokuspocus - Tumblr Blog

grishaverseblr: KAZ BREKKER & INEJ GHAFA — S1E07 “The Unsea”

@cavernovs

#**#—— ↷ you’re not heads or tails / you are the coin.. ❪ ft atemu. ❫.

@calamitousstarters myre grove, in front of the three doors haylee had entered enough doors with demons waiting on the other end; some she had been pushed into, others she cracked open herself. she was a curious woman; always had been - and that had almost always lead to her finding trouble, or worse. at least tonight - it was meant to be for fun. she stood before the three doors, in what was supposed to be a devil outfit, but it was rather just a red dress, and some horns on her head. she couldn’t be bothered with more; her efforts were limited as of late. not just when it came to halloween costumes.

one glance was all it took for her to decide on which door she could potentially walk into

flowers?

fuck no.

she was done with rose colored glasses, and botanical wonderlands, with daydreams and healing dust that could close up any wound, except for the one that was aching deep below bones and matter and had been rotting at the very center of the soul.

“i have a feeling about this one.” she spoke, her hand pressed against the cold surface of the first door. witches and their feelings. she could imagine the person behind her already chuckling at her sentence.

“don’t laugh.”

#calamity.starter

frccdxm:

@calamitousstarters

Farah had been nervous to go out into the world again, she had mostly spent her time since being rescued just locked away at home trying to get through the worst of the withdrawal. That was partly the reason her costume was just a white dress and some fake wings, she had completely lost track of the days. Now she was in Myre Grove, trying and hoping to see some friendly faces again to take her mind off the time she lost, a drink in hand to try and numb the reaction to losing frequent vampire bites. Not the best coping mechanism, but it made the night somewhat manageable. “This holiday must have been much more lighthearted when people didn’t know there were things to truly be scared of.”

it wasn’t a decision she dwelled on; to go out was a must now. an escape rather than a dreadful experience she could nurse home with a cup of warm tea. she was in and out of crowds of people she barey spoke to; a ghost among them mostly, seen or not - she was there; heartbroken and misguided. certainly a good time to dress as a demon spawn or whatever the hell her outfit was supposed to be; of matter was that tonight she could hide quite well her inner vulnerability. and as of late - hiding beneath a smile, or a pair of shiny clothes was a skill she mastered.

“is anyone around here really scared of anything?” she spat out the words in a chuckle. “people are way too cocky for their own good.” nobody knew who to be afraid of anymore. just a bunch of cocky bastards walking around thinking they are immortal.

@enriquevasquezlobo

ilbuia:

the night. . surprisingly had felt rather effortless. despite the nagging anxiety’s tugging at femme. everything felt natural, something she was thankful for. because the longer the night continued, the more secure zahara had felt in this new light. something she never thought possible, even still, she felt grateful. if not more so, because of the disbelief that had already riddled through her mind, consumed her thoughts. now, it was all gone, like it had never settled there before.

seeing her sister was expected. she’d only wished she’d seen her sooner. the only family still around was haylee. though the words would never form, simply sit in thought form, zahara needed that support.

a smile was already forming, zahara’s hand reaching up to lay over top her sisters. it wasn’t even a question, and of course, it wasn’t. offers a smile upon their departure. her hand moved to reach her sisters as her frame twisted, stood beside her now. “ what’s going on? ’

she awaited for them to be alone; although, in the place they called a home they could never truly be alone - there was always someone lurking in the shadows, always an ear listening to what they had to say, and then said words transofrmed into a blade. you could never be safe, even in the presence of your own sister. haylee had found that out the hard way.

“i wanted to congratulate you.” she offered a kind smile, “i’m sorry i couldn’t do it sooner.” she apologized, without going into much details. she knew why, but even if she didn’t - her sister was a smart girl; she certainly had an idea of why haylee had been distant lately.

however now - now she had her arms wrapped around the other girl, pulling in for the tightest hug she coud muster. one of love and full support, “you are exacty where you ought to be.” she muttered into her hair; exhailing a long held breath with the words.

#c: zahara #few years later

ilbuia:

@calamitousstarters could be anyone honestly and any game.

zahara had been waiting for this. after zyler she knew they needed a change. wanted desperately to be a larger part of that change. could only hope her fellow witches could look forward to the new change and welcome it. . . something she knew without hesitation their prior leader would have shut out. would have shut her out with it too most likely which is why the younger fane never did share her truest feelings or thoughts. knew they would only be silenced before.

the festival was welcome for an array of reasons. the announcement of her new role just one of many. walking around, there was a smile settled on femme’s brims —- all too happy to be surrounded by the games, the drinks, the food. . . the people. it was nice to be surrounded by such pleasantries in a world that was filled with such dread.

“ i’ll play a game with you. ’ she calls out, brims falling into a toothy grin as she approaches.

she had barely outgrowned the mistakes she’s made with zyler;; the amount of times she’s let her down; following her own path has never been so scary, sometimes she thought the city’s shadows would swallow her whole, that everything good was so out of her reach - she was a trembling thing, not only before her parents when they were alive, but before zyler as well, he trembled and flinched at every creak, when everything was too much she still felt the urge to block out the world and fall into silence.

but not with zahara. she reached for her sister, ever so often, surprisingly so, she reached for her. and zahara obliged. offered the blonde support, and care, and trust, and now that she had stepped into her rightful place and took over for zyler, haylee couldn’t help but feel that old fear grip her by the throat once more.

would she look at her differently now? would she banish her? lock her somewhere away, where she wouldn’t bring shame to their kind.

‘mind if i steal her for a moment?” she interrupted the brunette and her friend. lips stretching into a warm smile, as she placed her palm upon her sister’s shoulders and awaited for her answer. “wouldn’t be long, i promise.”

#c: zahara

cavernovs:

Sometimes, yes.

And then, she said it again, like it was just as easy as breathing to admit. An honesty. A truth that Atemu desperately tried to find another reason for. What if she wasn’t herself’ hallucinating; drunk’ spelled; poisoned - a hundred things that justified it’s falseness? Everything inside his head felt like it was being poked with needles, taunted into something terrible but so quickly eased with just accepting the sensation.

He couldn’t do that.

Because he couldn’t address what was happening, no matter how old, or mature he was supposed to be; he’d deny everything.

He couldn’t do this.

“I don’t want you, Haylee.” And even as he said the words, it was so quick, that it was like his mind had prepared the response; that if he said it with a faux ease, he might believe it. She might believe it. Because at the back of his mind ( which, he might mentally chide, should never have been at the back of his mind ) was Valdana. She was where his head was supposed to be; his partner, in all. Haylee was - what the fuck was she?

A witch.

Fane’s kid witch, of all things.

But even with all that, Atemu didn’t move. He was still. A statue in amongst a soon-to-be wreckage of once was; of hands; tangled limbs; lust.; Elmasry would have liked to have believed he was better than trivial pursuits of passion; of want an desire. But who was? This was more than that, it wasn’t some after job indulgence, it had been an apex of experience after countless of earlier passing experiences. The crux of a building want.

Fuck Atemu, what have you done?

“I’m being as honest as I can be, Dubois.” He bit out through gritted teeth, like it was an agony to choke out word after word to her like it was an inconvenience to even be there at all. He might have argued that it was, in some ways. But, he didn’t know what else to say.

He stood up then, tossed the cloth to the table beside her like it was dirty and stepped back; to leave. And even the words fell short of leaving him when the idea of never seeing Haylee again struck him like a dagger to the gut. Why would I want to?

Why wouldn’t you?

Fuck.

So he continued to disregard everything, despite his internal warfare:

“Ice your fucking hand, if you won’t treat it yourself. It’ll help.”

she was supposed to be smarter than that; smarter than falling from heights that are deadly and end in ruin, smarter than trust falls and falling in love and considering carving out her heart for another, or giving up every drop of her own magic to save a man that didn’t consider he had something to save left in him (but she knew he did) - smarter than that, always, smarter than that. what would zyler think of her now, if he saw, if he heard what she was saying?

stupid girl. unworthy girl. a disappointment.

but zyler, just like any other person she has ever loved - turned to ghost. and soon atemu would fall too - like quicksand between her fingers, like her parents did, like her brother had turned to smoke the second he was left with the choice - her or elsewhere? atemu would too, become something formless, unable to be pulled closer, she would reach forward and fall straight throght him.

she would tuck him away somewhere safer and let herself forget the way he left a brand.

she waits for venom and punctured wounds, for green strickes of electricity that she could often feel even if his fingers were nowhere near her skin, because this is the way they’ve danced around each other for months - but he doesn’t. she could deal with his anger and his fury and with being burnt but this - the sound of him leaving with such ease was deafening to her ears. it was like endless ringing of television static in empty rooms -

i don’t want you, haylee.

and still, even with those words on his lips, she wanted nothing more than to reach inside him and hear all the locks click free, find the places where she’d inked her name and trace the leylines until she finds the truth.

i’m being as honest as i can be, dubois.

her lips had unintentionally parted, and her blue irises drowned in tears. and she stared at him - like a lamb to the slaguther and him, with the butcher knife above her - the knife that she gave him. silly gil.

she hated this; hated him, hated him, hated him. maybe if she kept uttering those words, screaming them, they’ll finally sink in - finally altering perceptions. she shouldn’t have ever gotten close to him. she was supposed to be smarter than that.

but you can’t say it’s a mistake, can you? she thought to herself, as she felt the burning streams of tears roll down her cheeks.

“i don’t care about my hand.” she muttered, as she turned her head slowly to the right and focused her gaze on the horizon. she couldn’t look at him any longer. she couldn’t look at him ever again.

“you can leave now.’

#c: atemu

cavernovs:

Atemu concentrated his gaze on her hand. If he looked up to her face again, it might have jostled feelings he wasn’t sure he wanted to feel in that moment. Anger didn’t feel right either, but it was a closer reflection of what he was used to being. There couldn’t be another nauseating wave of sensation that sparked across his arms whenever he touched her, or when he caught sight the soft crevasses of her collar that prompted stark reminders to flash to the forefront of his vision.

Grazed knuckles, teeming with pinpricks of blood did very little to drag him back to the present then. No matter how gentle he tried to be, he felt the tightness of his grip when he squeezed the cuts in some silent will to stem the flow of blood. Quietly, in the back of his mind, he was telling himself it was so he could leave with a good conscience. That he’d returned a debt of some kind when she’d dragged him off death’s edge too many times.

But there was no debt to be repaid, Elmasry knew he was there for other reasons. How many times he lie to himself about why was laughable.

Her recounting her interaction didn’t help with settling any agitation. He shouldn’t have felt a flash of red over the idea that Dubois was acting on instinct. But his hands froze on hers when she stole the air from the room, and a twitch in his lip told of how he had to stop himself from responding on his own instinct.

Atemu’s eyes returned to hers then, met with the hues he felt like he’d seen a hundred times in every kind of light. This was a new one. His jaw hardened, and he swallowed down the harsh bite of his original response. It would have only been another lie. There were only a few interpretations of her words, and somewhere in his core, he knew the way she meant them. Because maybe she’d verbalised what his confusion had been trying to find a way to tell him since they gravitated into one another’s lives as though they were fate’s own chosen.

He was a liar, and a bitter driven man before he was anything else.

“You want to punch me, Dubois.” It wasn’t a question as much as it was a poor sideswipe to the reversal of roles they’d taken on. Maybe if she did, the world would return to how it was. And neither of them would be cleaning blood off of the other. Except, she might bust open the wounds that he was suddenly cradling in his hands like she was delicate porcelain.

What was happening?

He was angry, whether she asked him not to be or not. He was. But it wasn’t for her. The tightness in his muscles was evidence, the steady, but heavy breaths of his chest rising and falling included. Elmasry didn’t know what to do about any of it.

Maybe he was silently begging her to throw a punch. But then would she be Dubois. Even if the injuries he nursed said otherwise. The sorcerer wasn’t sure what versions Haylee had seen of him when he forgot himself. And he should have outgrown his emotional immaturity centuries ago. Instead, he released her hand from his, and silently drew the bloodied cloth into closed fists.

But he couldn’t ignore everything.

“We were drunk, Haylee.”

there were so many versions of the two of them; they’ve been through every possible situation, no matter how deadly, or infuriating. but this was different. this was a version of them that felt so unreal haylee thought she’d created it in her head. it felt like they’ve lost track when they started leaning on each other and when exacly did it start to feel so difficult to let go. his kiss has never been a certainty, or a promise, it was a threat to her safety, and she knew that the moment she kissed him. it’s been eating her up for months, there’s no denying it now, no hiding from the truth. she laid out the cards on the table, face up for him to read. and she did it for both their sake; admitted words that had caught on both their throats; she knows. she knows he must have felt it too; the pull - a phantom thread that has been pulling them to each other for months.

yet he read it all wrong

“sometimes - yes.” a small, huff of a chuckle fled her lips. “but that doesn’t mean that i want you any less.” her hands remained within his; stiff, unable to relax, even if her voice came out soft and velvety; her entire frame had tensed. she had never said such silly thing outloud before. especially not to a man who could fly away first chance he gets; man made out of air; that she hoped wouldn’t disappear if she held too hard; man that she tried to hate once upon a time, but instead....

it was a dangerous game to play, when such wantings were laid on the table - when she wanted more of that, more of him, more of his touch on her body that still had places unmapped to him, for her to bury her face in the crook of his neck to avoid early morning, to feel him between her thighs...

her eyes were still on his; even when he was still focused on her wounds; honest, and pure. the moment he pulled away, she felt as if breathing became more difficult; his words were like knives - we were drunk, haylee - it was a stab, the sensation of which brought her back to reality.

he was right. they were drunk. a poor execuse to act on her desires; a disguise. thats what it was. a drunken night with sober wantings.

she leaned in an inch closer; delicate fingers brushing against his cheekbone.

“tell me you don’t want me and you won’t have to see me again.”

she whispered closely; and her entire frame instantly froze in fear - she feared rjection, she feared abandonment, she feared he would choose hating her instead - but this was it. there was no coming back now. blue hues searching for his; desperately, she felt like she’s never been as brave, as she was right now; with her very being in his hands. he could crush her in a second; and haylee, being who she was, would feel the pain with each fiber of her being; it would absolutely shatter her to watch him walk away, but deep down behind the hurt, she’d understand why he did it.

“be honest with me.” another whisper; gentle, pleading.

#c: atemu

cavernovs:

This was unlike them. Not the backend of intoxications - because that was a worsening habit between them. But to have his hands gently wrapped around someone else’s bloodied knuckles, and of all people, it wasn’t like Dubois to be sporting them.

Everything was wrong. A parallel universe that they’d been sucked into. Atemu was beginning to feel like a black void might sideswipe him at any moment and take him to a place that made more sense. Anywhere would do. He pressed the cloth with more purpose against the reddened hand as he attempted to lessen the swelling. The silence was deafening. Elmasry could have spieled off a hundred curse words for Haylee’s undeniable stupidity, as he always did. Told her another fifty times that she was being reckless, as he always did.

But he just watched as the blood ebbed into the cool of the damp towel, and bit his tongue.

It wasn’t ever him in this role; the healer. He didn’t heal, or sit coddling witches who had blown their fucking gasket. That wasn’t what he was good at.

That was always her role.

Except, a lot of personal lines had been scratched away when it came to Dubois, and what they had, or what they’d done. Atemu shoved down those memories almost as quickly as they surfaced. He wasn’t sure what they were; the memories, or what they were as the two of them made bad habits of cleaning blood off the other.

Dark eyes flicked upwards to hers when she penetrated the quiet with a half-assed kind of joke. Atemu didn’t need to see what was on the other end of Haylee’s fist. Maybe that was because the sorcerer wasn’t quite sure what he’d do if he did.

Because he was always good at playing another role than the one he was in now.

“I can’t heal you, Dubois.” He reminded her with a gruff sort of grunt - as if she’d forget so quickly how their magics differed. Atemu wasn’t sure why he even asked. because it didn’t matter: “What were you fucking thinking?”

what were his thoughts? was he thinking her reckless now? her? the timid witch he hated so much. while she begged to know him. it was his hatred that urged her to continued begging to be let in. she believed he hated her so much, that now she couldn’t believe he was the one to clean her up. even when he knew she could do it all himself, and he did not even voice that. once. he could have dismissed her with a gesture of his hand, and she might have grabbed that hand and placed it on her cheek instead. fuck, what was she thinking? her thoughts drifted again to silly images that often flooded her mind when they were near each other.

but then other times; she found herself saying words that often left his lips; doing things that suited him more; actions, words and gestures that were rather his, than hers and she was liking how they switched, and turned and melted into something different. how she stole something of his, and he was, perhaps absentmindedly, stealing something of hers.

“i wasn’t, i just - i acted, when he got so close i could smell his breath on me and his hands were about to touch me and i thought of you - “ a beat.

“because i want you.”

her eyes met his; big and vibrant; was that a drunk confession? must not. she did not feel drunk, she felt brutally sober in that moment; the moment that was almost destined to happen. she knew it. she knew the truth; she knew what was hidden and scratching the surface of the thick layer of denial she had burried everything under. hand on hand; the damn cloth between their skin, she hated it; the cloth and the distance, and the misunderstanding and the confusion. it was all too much. and she wanted it all gone. out of her, out of her system, before it was too late. before she had the tme to sit and digest it all.

“please don’t be angry with me.”

#c: atemu

shiverrinqs:

𝙴𝚇𝚃 . 𝙷𝙰𝚅𝙴𝙻𝙾𝚆𝙴'𝚂, 𝚃𝚆𝙸𝙻𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃

status, OPEN — @calamitousstarters

It was busy today, it’s the first thing she noticed. Sat on the edge of the thin railing of the sky walkway about the market below A good location; a good place to people watch. Today her mind was busy with other thoughts. Fingers traced along a bite mark on her neck. Could still feel her teeth sink into flesh. The pain was quickly followed by a pleasant sensation. She hadn’t even thought to ask if it was meant to feel that way. And Aurora every the inquisitive thing, for once felt a little foolish to ask. Lost in the thought of that night, on valentine’s she didn’t notice the stranger. Till they were standing next to her, “ You know what I love about this place,” she said stretching a hand out. fingers dancing gently in the air as a piece of fruit rose to their eyesight. Allowing aurora to pluck it from mid-air and take a bite. “ The fruit, it’s really good. Normally I would pay but, I forgot my purse.”

a mindless walk had taken her there; she did that alot these days; she walked, and walked, until she stumbled somewhere she had not been, with people she did not know. one could call it curiousity, or stupidity; but haylee needed the distraction, and the sorceress sitting next to her served as one. for now.

she did not even remember how they started talking; which one approached the other first, but it didn’t matter. screw it, she would say if she was one glass of wine deep in the conversation already, but she had only had tea. “it’s my first time here actually.” she shared; observering the way the fruit floated around them. “and you don’t have to worry - i can pay for the fruit, and i can also buy you a drink - if you’d like to drink with me.” her cheeks had a rosy color now; she usually wasn’t one to iniciate anything; let along ask someone to join her for a drink. but she did, and she would do it again, if it meant she wouldn’t drink alone.

#c: aurora

calcmityys:

it was just a party. just a fun, easy, birthday party to celebrate one of the few people she didn’t entirely hate in calamity. of course, there’d been the play as an alternative but sitting in a stuffy room watching bad actors stammer their way through lines…not her kind of night. now, though, she was kicking herself for not going. not in the slightest because of the performance itself - though she’d heard that it had been quite the show. no - because the theatregoers had been trapped there. and among the crowd was haylee.

logically, she knew the witch was perfectly capable of protecting herself. but knowing that her friend, her family, was locked in with half the city, chomping at the bit to break into war, was not remotely reassuring. and then, when they’d finally gotten out, of course - the blonde had decided she had to play hero. it was one of the traits in haylee that she both loved and was infuriated by. her selflessness, her want - need - to help. it was that care in her that had cracked through max’s walls and had her genuinely depending on someone for the first time in years. so she was terrified, utterly terrified, of losing her.

haylee had messaged to let her know she was coming home but with every passing minute, the wolf was considering organising a search party to find her. and then she hears the click of the door, relief flooding her system. “fucking hell haylee-” she lets out a sigh, frustration and exhaustion lacing her words. a barrage of questions are poised on her lips but the sight of her friend quells them, bruised and battered, stripped of her clothes. “come here.” the wolf rises from her seat on the couch, grabbing a blanket. wrapping it around the witch’s shoulders, she pulls her into a brief hug. “you look like crap.”

she felt the warmth of the blanket around her, and then soon enough she was engulfed by arms so painfully familiar, and a scent that was home, and she wished she could give no indication that she was breaking, and breaking, and breaking but her body was falling apart in her best friends arms, and her soul was in splinters from the imagery of all those people laying underneath ruckus, and reina consumed by her own flames, and that stupid silver iron blade tearing up her insides. did she do her best? could she have done more? if one stared hard enough, they could have probably read all those worries within her eyes, but her features were burried in the crook of max’s neck like she was hiding from the world.

“i smell like one too.” words came out muffled; as she breathed in; slender arms barely lifting from her sides to rest against max, but they quickly fell back down. “i’m sorry - “ a beat. “i’m sorry.” repeated, all over, and over again until her chest was aching. of course, it was all just mutters and whimpers, and soft, barely audible cries that almost chocked in her throat.

“it was really bad, max - the ones i tried to help barely made it ,and i can’t even think about the rest that i couldn’t get to fast enough - “

#c: max

@deathbeckons jack x haylee equinox festival

she was nervous to attend the festival; worries settled in the pit of her stomach; she still feared she was unfit for her position; and more so now that zyler was stepping down, and her sister was stepping in. she had barely any idea of the changes that were to come; of what her sister would desire of her. she wondered if her sister would ever punish her for her doings, like zyler had. if all of this was going to drive them further apart.

nevertheless; she was present; dressed up and all smiles. for a witch in her rank; she had to be presentable and pleasant. no trace of worry evident upon her features. her hands were toying around with a new set of taro cards; her eyes falling upon jack, who had recently been there for her, when she didn’t thnik she needed someone to hear her out. he understood her more than most; and she felt comfortable sharing with him; talking about her magic had always been something she struggled with.

“i didn’t expect to see you here.” she offered him a warm smile. “although, i suppose, i should have - “ a beat. her index finger pointing at her temple. “ - the voices, and all.” she offered a soft chuckle.

#event: equinox festival #c: jack

shiverrinqs:

Large arms wrapped around her form, letting out a sigh of relief that she was okay too. Things happened so quickly when the bomb went off. And Ezekiel had been knocked out, only coming to hear of most of it second hand. The last thing he remembered , was catching a glimpse of Haylee before losing sight of her again. But she was okay , or at least physically she was okay… he would take this. “ Yeah, I’m all good.” he muttered. Holding onto her a little longer before letting his arms fall away. Looking down towards his friend now. “ Thank you, sorry for just popping in on you.” he offered. stepping over the threshold and making sure to close the door behind them both.

Inside her home, he felt himself relax even more. He knew that you were never truly safe in the city. But it was easy to let his guard down around Haylee: always had been. Shrugging off his jacket, he laid it neatly on the back of a chair. “ I’ll take coffee.” he paused “ Or maybe I should wait I’m already wired.” anxious hands rubbed together as he watched Haylee fix the kettle. There was no way to say it, no beating around the bush when it came to this. Haylee knew better then most his struggle of figuring out who he was, she would understand. Taking a deep breath he let the words tumble forth.

“ I know Haylee, I know what I am.”

“i couldn’t find you that night - i looked for you but - “ she spoke, as she was keeping busy, just so she wouldn’t be able to finish that sentence and remind them both of the horrible aftermath. she flashed him a gentle smile, as she quickly moved to the kitchen and disappeared from his view. “but i’m glad you’re okay! i wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.”

she prepared lavender tea; hoping that would keep him relaxed; it was far better then coffee. he trusted her enough last time she offered him one of her potions, she assumed he might like her tea too. his words took her by surprise; so much that she almost burnt herself on the stove.

“what do you mean?” she turned around to meet him; brows furrowed, one hand on the kettle, while the other clenched in slight pain. she didn’t know what to think; when? how? was it just now that he was finding out, or did he not trust her enough to say anything when it happened first? she didn’t dwell on the last thought as much, but she was curious; always so curious.

“how - how did you find out? i’m - confused.”

#c: ezekiel

weltenwellen

Anais Nin, Mirages: The Unexpurgated Diary of Anais Nin, 1939-1947

hokuspocus

@cavernovs

#**#—— ↷ you’re not heads or tails / you are the coin.. ❪ ft atemu. ❫.

deathbeckons:

he saw her big blue eyes widen, and internally chided himself for snapping at her. it wasn’t what she said, or even how she said it, it was that haylee seemed to be the latest to believe that he likely wouldn’t be able to control himself whether from a place or care or not. the witch was being protective, not trying to go on the offensive. well fuck.

harley sighed, running a hand over his face before looking back at her. “haylee–” he started softly, not really knowing how to apologise for his outburst. “i’m used to people doubting me, and my capability to control myself during this whole… transition. i’m not much used to people being concerned about me.” of course zane had been, eventually, after everything that had gone down between them. it had been hard, and yes he had drained the life out of a human or two – maybe more, his memory was hazy – but he was fine now. sure, he was still very new in his journey in vampirism, but that’s why he kept emergency blood stashes in his home, his work and sinsation. there was always some somewhere for him.

“i didn’t mean to snap at you, or believe that you meant it maliciously instead of from a place of concern for me.” he apologised as best he could, chewing on his lower lip as he looked over the blonde. “you didn’t offend me, and i didn’t mean to come across like that. i’m sorry.”

she knew harley, she trusted he wouldn’t harm anyone without a good reason to; he wasn’t one to lose control, but once upon a time - she wasn’t someone who could lose control either. until it happened, and she no longer trusted herself, nor people who were so well put together, coutious and controlled that the thin, red thread beneath all that - the one that could snap at any given moment was almost invisible to the eye. once trusting, haylee was now doubting her closest friends; closest allies, everyone could be a potential threat to someone; her included.

she kept her head bowed to her chest; knuckles cracking beneath the pressure of her hands pressing into one another. a habit she had when she was nervous. anxious. how could she admit that she was concerned, she truly was, but a part of her was worried. worried and doubting. him, of all people.

“i care for you, i really do, harley- “ she muttered, “and you’re right to be angry with me, i shoudn’t have doubted you, you don’t deserve that but i can’t help it.” she admitted. guilty, as always. lately she’s been carrying too much guilt.

“ever since i lost control - ever since i was tempted to - “ she couldn’t even finish that sentence, the thought of it made her sick. she only swallowed the words to drown them quick, light orbs locking on his, “ - i’m not saying you’re anything like me, but it happens to everyone, it happens to people who - haven’t even had a thought like that, not even once.” she continued. somehow. “you can always tell me - anything. i’m here, you know that right? even if you snap, and i say something foolish - you can always count on me to be here.”

#c: harley

calcmityys:

@hokuspocus / luca & haylee

it shouldn’t bother him as much as it does. shouldn’t be eating away at him, worry gnawing at his bones. yet somehow, his mark has begun to matter far more than she should. this won’t end well. burying the thought, he focuses on the anger at the surface - the image affixed in his mind, of the ring. of her - powerful but breakable - training with a vampire of all things. were they allies now ?? friends ?? more…?? he blinks, shaking his head. it’s none of his business what they are to each other. but…her safety is important.

important enough that he’s at her apartment door, knocking louder - more urgently - than necessary. “haylee ??” no goldilocks this time. playfulness utterly absent from his tone. “you home ??”

there were glimpses of hope; in those moments she found herself in control of her magic - the one she dared not speak of, kept hidden underneath layers of denial and brought out only when adrenaline was bursting the doors of the hideout down. for better, or for worse - demitri was helping; and haylee, for once, felt in need of that. someone that made her think it was okay to have that side of oneself; to acknowledge it, and call it what it is; call it with a name that fits, dress it up, let it be a part of you without shame; without kicking and screaming. easy. slow. relaxed.

acceptance. it was bound to come - sooner, rather than later. she could feel it.

she could hear the knocking from her garden; heavy fists coming down hard on the wooden door; her brows instantly furrowing at the sound, fists clenched; until she realized who it was; and she let out the breath she had been holding.

“luca?” she spoke from behind him; hands covered in dirt; look puzzled, “is everything alright?”

#c: luca

shiverrinqs:

Was it hurting him? He didn’t think so. Ezekiel knew that Saylor cared for him, he knew that if she thought for a minute that she was hurting him, she would let him go. Would pull away and just let him live his life. And a part of him didn’t want that. She was his friend way before he even understood what his more complicated feelings were. Where they would visit, by their tree. Saylor in the water, Zeki on the shore with Sadik. With fluffernutters, laughter, and fun.

No, she had been his friend much longer. He didn’t want to lose that just because he couldn’t get his own feelings together.

Smiling, a large hand covered the one Haylee had over his shoulder. “Nothing worth having is easy. That is just how life is, but I can handle it. I’m stronger now, remember.” offering a genuine smile, “ but thank you for looking out for me. Now I just have to figure out how to let those feelings go.” his chest rising and falling as he expelled another sigh. He cared too much to just walk away, he couldn’t do that with Saylor. He couldn’t do it with any of his friends. Ezekiel was always there, ready to help when they needed it.

Maybe that made him a sucker, maybe some would see him as weak for not letting them go. But it wasn’t in his nature to begrudge anyone. Even the people who hurt him the most. “ I always thought I didn’t deserve her, “ thankful that Haylee was on his side. Not that he had any doubt that she wouldn’t be. “Such sage wisdom, you sure you are younger than me?” he teased. feeling a little lighter.

Laughter rang out at her suggestion for more drinks, the booming kind when he was genuinely enjoying himself. “ I guess I can have one more. Can’t have you drinking alone.” At this rate, he was going to be drunk off two drinks. Zeki made a mental note to make sure to sip his drink this time.

Very, very slowly.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “ I wasn’t planning on going at all because i didn’t have a date. Didn’t want the reminder that my love life is now officially nonexistent. “ It was lame but it was the truth, sad as it was. Truth; he loved valentines day. It was the romantic in him and it was that part of him that wanted Haylee to find it. With someone that deserved her, that would take care of her. Leaning against the bar he studied her for a little while.

“So you’re telling me there is no one you wanted to come with? Someone, you hoping to see? You just came for the drinking and dancing? Sounds sus to me.”

how to let those feelings go.

she was yet to learn how to do that; there were no words of advice, nor of encouragement she could give him; she never knew how to feel less, to care less, to let go. haylee only nodded her head, the way she looked at him meant that he wasn’t alone; the look in her eyes was meant to speak - me too. and she hoped that would be enough for him. for now.

she couldn’t help but let out a light chuckle at his words; tucking a blonde lock behind her ear sheepishly, “i read a lot. that’s probably why, zeki.” wasn’t anything special, she was always ahead of her age; although there were still people who treated her like a child.

she didn’t even wait for his answer; her frame was already leaned on the bar, ordering two more drinks and a few gold tequila shots. could things truly go that wrong? she trusted zeki; she felt safe within his presence, he certainly wouldn’t let her make any more bad decisions, now would he?

“who needs a love life when we have shots?” she beamed, as she turned around with the tiny glasses in her hands; each one having an orange slice on top. she placed two on his side, and two on hers, quickly taking one and clicking it with his, before downing the liquid.

she bit on the orange in order to buy herself some time, before answering his question. god, she could already feel words threatning to spill from her lips. shut up, haylee. a mantra that no longer had the power to hold off the waves that were crashing within her; it was all piling and piling, and piling and -

“the person i’m hoping to see would never be seen at a valentines ball, trust me.” she chuckled at her own foolishness; hoping was a strong word, she wasn’t hoping, there was no hope in regards to the man she spoke of. she could only laugh it off, and hope that the sound was convincing enough. “what is it about me? am i really that transperant?” she continued to laugh; but it was laced with bitterness this time. could she be any less obvious? could she fool someone for once, that she wasn’t a vulnerable thing?

#c: zeki #event: valentines ball

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