On an otherwise normal day, Marcel realizes he's grown a bit too fond of the wolf pups he adopted.
He's not sure how to handle this revelation
Part of A Vampire's Pack
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Marcel was meant to be going over the notes Thierry brought him from his recent patrol with the newest nightwalkers. He had come into his office for that very purpose, as a matter of fact.
But he could hear the kids playing out in the courtyard and it was very distracting. There was a surprisingly complex storyline going on between two warring kingdoms that had to work together to defeat a terrible dragon and he found himself drawn back to it every few words.
After a few more attempts at reading the same sentence, he gave up, getting up from his desk and leaving the library to watch the show from the balcony.
He leaned on the railing, arms crossed with a soft smile on his face as he watched the tiny crew run around.
Jackson and Oliver made up one kingdom and Eve and Aiden were the other. Hayley was the dragon, running around the courtyard with cardboard wings on her back, growling and biting people at random. It would be annoying if she wasn’t so cute.
Marcel’s eyes slid back to the negotiations between the two kingdoms, which had come to a halt to decide on what, exactly, negotiations were supposed to look like.
He considered going down there to help, offer perspective, but figured if they wanted his input, they would ask. They usually preferred to figure out the more “adult” parts of their games on their own.
Looking away from the negotiations, Marcel once again sought out the ferocious dragon that was terrorizing the kingdoms. Only...he couldn’t see her anymore. She wasn’t climbing on the fountain or chasing any of the daywalkers downstairs. He frowned and peered at the darkest corners of the courtyard, but still saw nothing.
Where had she gone?
An echoing giggle caught his ears and he quickly turned, searching for the source. If there was one thing he’d learned about toddlers (or, at least, this one in particular), it was that unsupervised giggling was never a good thing.
“Hayley?” he called out softly. “Where are you? We’re not playing hide and seek….”
The giggling got louder and was accompanied by a metallic thunk. It was coming from the other side of the abattoir. On the second level. Right across from Marcel.
He whirled around to see her climbing to the top of the railing. She was clumsy, but her werewolf heritage made her nimble and she was standing on top of the metal railing before he could even move. “Hayley!” he cried. “Get down from there! It’s not safe!”
She didn’t heed his warning, just giggling and spreading her cardboard wings. “Imma dragon!” she cheered as she jumped.
He had heard the stories. Every parent in the world, throughout all time, had a story where their child got injured and time slowed down as they watched it happen.
Hayley’s fall did not slow down. Not while Marcel was watching her, at least. If anything, it seemed like she sped up, barreling toward the concrete tile of the courtyard.
By some miracle, Marcel was faster, and she landed in his arms instead.
That was the moment when time slowed down.
That was when he could hold her to his chest and breathe her in. That was when he could close his eyes and listen to her (still beating) heart. That was the moment he could hold onto and know that this little girl was safe.
One eternity later, Hayley started wriggling. “Lemme down! Imma dragon!” She bit at his arm and tried to kick out of his hold.
And then time started running at normal speed and his ears cleared up and he could open his eyes and say “Absolutely not!” without breaking down. He held her little body in his hands at arms’ length so she could see he was serious. “You are not a dragon and you will not be a dragon for at least a week. Thierry!”
He ordered his right hand man to get the other children to their rooms while he handled Hayley. He would have a talk with Eve and Jackson later about keeping an eye on their little sister, but this conversation needed to just be between the two of them.
He brought her up to his office, holding her wriggling body in a firm grip, and set her on the desk before folding his arms over his chest.
“Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? There’s a reason I tell you not to play up there alone! You could’ve gotten seriously hurt – and you would have if I hadn’t caught you.”
“But you did catch me.” She said, in the way only a child could, with the complete confidence that if nothing bad had happened before, nothing bad ever would happen in the future.
“And what if I hadn’t? What if I hadn’t been watching? What if no one had noticed you ran off and got somewhere you shouldn’t have been? You could’ve been hurt or-” A sickening image of Hayley on the floor of the courtyard, head smashed open and blood splattered around her, eyes looking back at him lifelessly. He coughed and got himself back under control. “Why did you jump off that railing? You know how dangerous that is.”
Hayley stared at him and was silent for a long moment, as if she were actually, seriously contemplating his question. Eventually, she answered: “I knew you would catch me.”
In one moment, Marcel simultaneously felt his heart shatter and swell up to about five times its usual size. A sensation that he felt he masked very well, only clearing his throat to shove down the swell of emotion that threatened to bubble out of him. “That is very sweet of you to say. But that does not get you out of trouble. That was very dangerous and I need to punish you for that. Do you understand?”
Hayley let out a very put upon sigh and nodded. “I’m sorry,” she said in a small voice. “I was just playing.”
He couldn’t find it in his heart to be too mad at her when she pouted like that. But she was still grounded and the dragon costume was going up on the high shelf that not even Jackson could climb up to until she was un-grounded. Which wouldn’t be for another month at least. Maybe longer.
Marcel did not let himself examine the way that afternoon affected him until long after the abattoir had emptied. He sat alone in the very office he’d reprimanded Hayley in with a bottle of whiskey and a fire blazing in the fireplace.
When he’d brought the wolf pups into his home from the bayou, his intentions had been clear. He would raise them as his own, molding the next generation of pack leadership. If they also functioned as hostages to keep the current leadership from rebelling, that was a nice bonus. It had been an impulsive move, but a strategic one.
He had, for some reason, not anticipated coming to actually care for any of them.
Well. He had expected to grow fond of them. He just hadn’t expected to care for them this much. So much that the thought of harm coming to them felt like his heart was ripped from his chest. So much that he couldn’t spend more than two hours away from them without finding his way to whatever game they were playing. So much that he was truly beginning to fear the day that they might find out the truth.
And, one day, he was certain they would. One day, one of them would find out they were werewolves. One of them would feel the pull back to their back, to their true family. One of them would find out what he had done. And they would tell the others, and they would all hate him. And then he would lose them.
The thought of Hayley’s sincere and complete trust morphing into hatred filled him with a dread he did not know how to quell. The idea that Aiden, Jackson, or Oliver would turn away from him instead of toward him for affection made him want to cry. Even Eve, the most distant of them, the girl who had bitten him when he tried to hold her the first time they met, had wormed her way into his heart in a way that made him fear the day she pushed him away again.
Maybe he could prevent it. Maybe he could speak to the witches again, find some kind of suppression spell to keep their wolves restrained. Or perhaps there was a way to cut off their connection to their pack. Maybe there was even a way to keep them from turning at all.
Or maybe anything he could do would be an exercise in futility, merely prolonging the inevitable.
But wasn’t it worth trying? To keep the peace? To keep the family he had accidentally built?
He finished his glass and decided he would call a meeting with the witches in the morning. Whatever came of it, no one would say Marcel Gerard didn’t fight for his family.
Tags/Warnings: Running Away, First Meetings, Angst, Angst and Feels, Obsession, Obsessive Behavior
Summary:
Kol is running from his family when he meets a familiar face.
Joel is driving home when he meets a homeless teen on the side of the road and gets himself in deeper than he should helping him.
Part of the Charity Work series
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Kol was walking.
He wasn’t sure where he was walking to. He wasn’t sure it mattered.
He just couldn’t be in that house anymore.
It was dark and it was cold and if he were anyone else he might be frightened to be out this late on the side of the road. But what did a monster like him have to be afraid of? He was the thing that went bump in the night. Serial killers and human traffickers should be afraid of him.
That thought perked him up. Maybe he would run into a creep on his adventure and have some fun.
When a car started to slow along the side of the road he was walking along, he was careful to school his face to hide his excitement.
The car came to a stop and the driver got up, standing over the top. His face was mostly in shadow and Kol couldn’t get a good look at him, even with his vampire vision. “Are you alright?” he asked.
“I’m fine.”
“Uh-huh,” the man said in a voice that heavily implied an eye roll. “Do you need a ride somewhere?”
Kol shrugged. “Not really going anywhere.”
“I can get you to town if you want.”
Possibly creepy, but could also just be a good Samaritan. Either way, Kol was getting a meal tonight.
“That’s very kind of you.”
“I try. Oh, and here-” He ducked down into his car and pulled out a jacket. He walked around the car and handed it to him. “You’ll catch your death out here if you’re not careful,” he said. He opened the passenger door as Kol put it on. “My name is Joel, by the way.”
“Kol.”
They both got in the car and Kol found himself speechless when the interior lights illuminated Joel’s face.
He’d met dopplegangers of his siblings before. Older, younger, kinder, crueler – Kol had seen it all.
So seeing his elder brother’s face looking back at him shouldn’t be more than a minor shock. But this one – Joel – with his glasses and his gray hair and his fraying flannel shirt and his extra jacket had him on the back foot.
“Oh, here, have a water.” A plastic bottle was shoved in his hands. “You must’ve been walking for a while. Are you hungry? We can get something for you to eat. Don’t forget your seat belt.”
Kol silently buckled himself in and held the water bottle gingerly. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” The car got back on the road again and headed off into the night.
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Joel tried not to stare at the boy in his passenger seat. But it was hard not to.
He was – what? 17? 18? Maybe 19?
Was he running away? Did he get kicked out? Was he just homeless?
Regardless, he shouldn’t be out on the street alone, especially not this late at night. Anything could happen to him.
Anything.
“Is there anyone you can call? Do you have a place to stay?”
“No,” Kol responded, picking at the label of the water bottle.
Joel’s hands tightened around the wheel. “No you don’t have anyone to call or no you don’t have a place to stay?”
“Both.”
He took a deep breath. This wasn’t his problem, not really. He wasn’t going to abandon the poor kid but he couldn’t just randomly take responsibility for him. He would get some food in him and take him to the shelter his church worked with and hope for the best.
That would be the smart thing to do, at least. He couldn’t – shouldn’t – try to do more than that.
He’d disappointed enough people in the last year.
“If you want a place to stay I can help you with that.”
Kol snorted. “What, you gonna offer me a room?”
“Sure.” Joel cursed internally the moment the word fell from his mouth. He must sound like a creep, offering his place like that. Who does that? He can’t just-
“Really?” He could see Kol shift in his seat out of the corner of his eye. He sat up, turning toward Joel. “You’d let me stay at your place, just like that?”
“Yeah. I-If you need it.” Joel could kick himself if he wasn’t driving. What was wrong with him? “If you’d rather stay in a shelter I can-”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“I can stay at your place. For now anyway. Just until I’ve got myself sorted out.”
Joel bit his tongue to stop himself from telling Kol he could stay as long as he wanted, as long as he needed, that he didn’t have to rush himself. He forced himself to say “Alright,” and move on, taking the next exit off the highway to go into town.
“So, what do you want to eat?”
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Kol was finishing the last of his milkshake when Joel stopped outside an apartment building. It was a tall building, on the aging side but well-maintained.
“Come on. I live on the sixth floor. The elevator’s out though, so we’ll have to climb the whole way.” Joel collected the remaining trash from their meal from the car and quickly disposed of it in an outdoor trashcan. Kol followed him out of the car and inside the building, holding the gifted jacket close to himself.
On the way up, he takes Joel in. He’s healthy, but aging, evidenced by the gray in his hair and the wrinkles on his face and the strain in his muscles as they get closer to the sixth floor. Like any normal human, he has a limited stamina.
When they reached for the floor, he had to stop for a moment and catch his breath. Kol stands with him, as if he also needs the break.
Their next stop is a few doors down, an apartment with a Christmas wreath that’s months out of date. “This is me.” Joel unlocked and opened the door, gesturing for Kol to go in first. “It’s not much, but it’s home.”
He showed Kol around the apartment. It was decently sized, with just enough room for two people to get on. Hardly the luxury he was used to, but not a destitute hole in the wall either. It was...normal. At least, as normal as Kol could expect.
“My son’s at college and he usually goes to his mother’s for the holidays so you can keep the room as long as you need,” Joel said when they reached the second bedroom. “I do have a job and I go to church a couple times a week but you can stay in when I’m not at home. Just don’t have any parties and try to be home by 11, or I’ll get worried, alright?”
Kol nodded, glancing around the room. It was had a bed and a wardrobe and a bookcase, all with remnants of the son he’d mentioned. A few spare posters, a collection of trophies, and some well-worn books. It could use some redecorating, but Kol could live with it. For now, at least.
“Thanks.”
“No problem. Is there...anything else you need? I noticed you didn’t have a bag….” Joel trails off, as if he’s worried he said something offensive. “It’s just- The church I go to has a sort of clothing bank. They get regular donations and-”
“That sounds nice.” He didn’t actually need any of it. He could get whatever he wanted on his own, no money required. But Joel clearly thought he was a homeless kid, and there was no need to correct that assumption. Not now, anyway.
“Alright!” Joel clapped his hands together and took a step back toward the doorway to the room. “I’ll just- I’ll let you get settled in and we can figure out what you wanna do in the morning. Sound good?”
Kol nodded his assent and let him leave. He sat on the bed and just listened to him move about the apartment, turning down for the night. He washed the dishes, cleaned up clutter, took a shower, and stopped by Kol’s new room to say goodnight before going to his own.
Kol waited until his heartbeat had slowed into sleep before joining him.
Joel had Elijah’s face. Joel had Elijah’s body. He even had Elijah’s propensity for religion.
But they did not share a soul.
Joel was kind. He was generous. He cared for those outside of his family. And he cared about Kol, a boy he didn’t even know.
He had set out on the road with no clear goal in mind, just getting away from his family and all the mess they entailed. He would probably have left the country, found a party, and settled into meaningless debauchery to fill his time.
But Joel…. Joel presented something fascinating. An opportunity, for once, to truly mean something to someone.
He could stay here, with Joel. No one in his family would mind. They probably wouldn’t even come looking for him. Not for a while, not until they remembered he existed and felt entitled to his presence.
He would stay here, then, he decided. He would stay until Joel decided he was tired of him. And then….
The cast of each and every Mikaelson soulmate story ive had planned is posted on Wattpad. Go check them out and add to your library if youre interested in updates!
The cast of each and every Mikaelson soulmate story ive had planned is posted on Wattpad. Go check them out and add to your library if youre interested in updates!
please please please write for rebekah mikaelson 🙏 🙏 there are leike no storeies for her
choosing you
pairing: rebekah mikaelson x fem!reader
summary: in which rebekah comes crying to you bc she feels used
warnings: none !
a/n: my second tvd fic !! lmk how it is <33
rebekah had always been the strongest person you knew.
or at least, she tried to be.
you find her the moment she storms into the house, doors shaking slightly behind her as they slam shut. there’s no dramatic announcement, no biting remark, just silence that feels too heavy for someone like her.
you already know.
“bekah…” you say softly.
she doesn’t answer. just stands there near the entryway, shoulders tight, jaw clenched like she’s trying to hold herself together by force alone. her eyes are glassy in a way she hates being seen.
“he did it again,” she finally says, voice breaking on the last word.damon.
you don’t need more detail. you’ve seen this version of her before when he charms his way back in, when she lets herself hope for something that never lasts, when it ends the same way it always does.
you step closer carefully, like she might vanish if you move too fast.
“sweetheart,” you repeat, softer this time. “come here.”
she shakes her head once, but it’s weak. barely even a refusal.
“stop,” she whispers. “don’t look at me like that.”
“like what?”
“like i’m—” her voice catches, frustration flashing through her eyes. “like i’m stupid.”
that makes something in your chest twist sharply.
you close the distance anyway, gently, until you’re right in front of her. close enough that she can’t hide from you, but not close enough to trap her.
“you’re not stupid,” you say immediately. firm, steady. “you’re not even close.”
her breath shakes.
“he knows exactly what to say to get under your skin,” you continue, voice softening. “that’s not on you. that’s on him.”
rebekah laughs once, bitter and quiet, looking away like she can’t stand being seen like this. “i should know better by now.”
“knowing better doesn’t stop you from feeling things,” you say. “it doesn’t make you less… you.”
that finally gets her to look at you.
her eyes are red-rimmed, furious at herself for it, like even crying is something she should be better than.
you lift a hand slowly, giving her time to pull away. she doesn’t. so you gently brush a tear from her cheek.
“you’re not broken,” you murmur.
her breath hitches.
“and you’re not stupid,” you add, firmer again. “rebekah mikaelson, you are… you’re everything. you feel things deeply. you care. even when people don’t deserve it.”
something in her expression cracks then, like she’s been holding herself together on pure pride and it finally gave out.
“i hate this,” she whispers.
“i know.”
there’s a pause. small. fragile.
your hand is still resting lightly against her cheek, and she doesn’t move away from it. instead, she leans into it like she’s finally too tired to pretend she doesn’t need it.
“why are you always like this with me?” she asks quietly.
“like what?”
“like you see me,” she says, voice barely there. “even when i don’t want you to.”
your thumb brushes under her eye again, slow and careful.
“because i do see you,” you say simply.
that does it.
rebekah inhales sharply, like something in her finally tips past restraint, and before you can second-guess it, she’s closer. her hands are suddenly at your waist, not rough, not desperate, just sure, like she’s making a decision she’s been avoiding for a long time.
“rebekah—” you start, but she doesn’t let you finish.
she kisses you.
it’s not rushed. it’s not careless. it’s soft in a way that makes your thoughts go quiet, like she’s asking a question more than taking anything.
when she pulls back just slightly, she’s still close enough that her forehead almost touches yours.
“tell me to stop,” she whispers.
you don’t.
instead, you cup her face more fully, thumb still resting near her cheekbone.
“don’t stop,” you say.
that’s all it takes.
she kisses you again, slower this time, like she’s letting herself believe it’s real. like she’s been holding this back for too long and doesn’t know how to be careful with it anymore.
when you finally part, she’s breathing like something inside her has shifted.
“i think i’ve loved you for a long time,” she admits quietly, like it scares her to say it out loud.
your heart stutters.
you lean in just a little, resting your forehead against hers properly this time.
“good,” you whisper. “because i’ve loved you too.”
her hands tighten slightly at your waist, like she’s grounding herself in you now instead of everything she was before.
and for the first time since she walked through that door, rebekah mikaelson looks like she’s not holding herself together out of fear of falling apart.
just holding onto you instead.
tvd taglist : @billyg4en, lmk if you want to be added !
I don't know which one to choose their all my favorite men!
Ok, so I would definitely fuck Kol; that man does something to me, and the Original energy he would have... he would be a great fuck. Plus the accent, and he is so hot. He is definitely someone I want to have a benefit thing with.
I would marry Jeremy. The guy would be the perfect husband, very loyal, and extremely protective. I can just imagine a good life with him, and the hunter stuff would be a problem, and his ability to be emotionally unavailable, but I feel like we could work through that stuff and have a healthy marriage.
Kai Parker, I would have to kill. I don't want to, though! So I'm just going to say that I would definitely love him, and he would love me in his sick way. But he would be very possessive, and it would be too suffocating, and maybe his sociopath stuff got a little too much, and he locked me in, so I had to kill him. It was him or me, and I'm not going so... but I would never fall in love again and find a spell to bring him back.
If she’d just asked. If any of them had just asked. There isn’t much she won’t give up for people who ask, but taking was another matter. She’s shaking. Pacing the rug in front of the empty fireplace before she falls to her knees. The envelope she found in her parents’ safety deposit box was heavy in her hands. And so was their ask, but it was important. Warning her of a danger seeking her out but she wasn’t the one in trouble. It was the world. They’d done everything in their power to protect her and if they couldn’t then they’d given her a gift. A way she could use her blood to save the world and she listened to them. They were her parents and they were asking and she wanted to make them proud but she’s had enough. Enough of the taking.
Her dad would be ashamed of what she’s become. How she’s failed him. Giving Klaus her blood and so much more. The tears fall and her throat aches with the effort to subdue the sound. Lexi for Stefan. Mason for Tyler. There’s a reason Jenna hasn’t come to her. Why she’s seen none of her family. They’re repulsed by her failure. By her submission to this nightmare. They reject what she’s become; her hunger and what she craves. Just like her friends would if they knew.
