@fightforbetter liked the starter call // accepting

        "in the end, i fulfilled my part of the deal, don't you think? you wanted answers about your family and my actions led you right to them. i admit, the whole giving birth to klaus's spawn thing wasn't intended but it's the results that matter." in the end everything turned out fine, hayley can't deny that. besides, katherine had never said how she intended to uphold her part of the deal. it still counts.

       "we're even."

HAYLEY MARSHALL ( @fightforbetter ) asked for ﹟  recovering together﹕ sender  &  receiver  recover  from  a  bad  experience 

The thing they don't tell you about immortality is how... long it lasts. Maybe such a thing shouldn't have been so surprising to Hope but she supposes it's different because she's never thought she would have to live without her mother.

She's never thought she would have to do it twice.

Both times were brought about by her own hand too, and maybe this is just the universe's way of telling her that she never deserved the goodness that was in Hayley Marshall-Kenner. That no matter what, her father's monstrous temper that people always believed was inherent in her, could never be fully tempered by the fiery pragmatism of her mother even though it was Hayley who raised her and left her indelible mark on Hope.

So she gives Hayley the space she asks for, watching from afar with the occasional comment from Marcel or other members of their family. No one comforts Hope or tries to reassure her, not that she would have listened to them had they tried in the first place. She doesn't know what they tell Hayley, if Hayley even asks about her eldest daughter.

Because that's a new thing she's heard about through the grapevine. Hayley had taken in another child, a werewolf orphan. A replacement. She disappears for three years after hearing about that, and when she re-emerges to the public life, Freya makes her swear that she'll never do that again, not without telling someone. Hope wants to ask whether it was because they were afraid she had died or whether they were afraid she flipped her humanity again, but the question sticks in her throat. She never does know for certain, but she imagines it's a little bit of both. She doesn't have the heart to tell them she spent most of it in a self-imposed dessicated state because Hope still hasn't quite learned how not to run away from the things that hurt her.

She settles in California, letting the salt and sand act as a balm to her wounds. It's easy enough to buy a house on the beach, secluded enough that no one bothers her (or worries about her immortal age), but close enough to a major metropolitan area so she can hunt easily. Hope spends her days walking along the beach or setting up her easel to paint another sunset. She finds a new life, one completely divorced from her former one, with no ties to her family, other than Kol and Davina halfway across the state. And no one understands better than her Uncle Kol the need for some distance.

Immortality both drags on and goes by in a flash, one of those paradoxes that doesn't make sense, probably spurred on by the imbalance of nature that it occupies. Thirty years go by in the blink of an eye and Hope realizes she's not had a mother in her life longer than she had one. It's a brief moment of selfishness that has her sending the letter to Hayley, the first she actually puts stamps on and drops into the mailbox, but not the first she's written. There's a room in her spartan house, dedicated to the letters she has written to Hayley, to Klaus, to Freya, Josie, MG, Cleo, and the handful of others who have remained important over the years. It's equal parts therapy and catharsis, and she understands why her father kept journals. A few have been sent back and forth over the years, but never once to Hayley.

She doesn't expect Hayley to answer and she doesn't know what compels her to keep sending her letters after she doesn't hear back from the first one, but she does. Nothing heavy, but small updates on her life, trying to let her know that despite everything, she's somewhat okay. In case she was curious. When a month goes by without hearing back, Hope is ready to give up again, the rejection searing enough to make her walls fly back up sturdier than ever. If her own mother can't love her, then what hope, no pun intended, did she have for anyone else managing to do that?

Two days later, a letter arrives. A week later, she's flying back to New Orleans for the first time in decades.

Just a little reminder that Hayley had a positive "your body, your choice" conversation with her daughter and it definitely included every definition of sexual orientation with the purpose of ensuring Hope knew she never had to worry of Hayley's judgement. Also, Hayley gave a few censored examples of her relationships with both men and woman and that pleasure was natural, much to Hope's embarrassment I'm sure <3

this reminds me that hayley was the first person that hope came out to. and it didn't feel like a big thing with her, it was just a simple thing to share like her favorite color or newest hobby. when hope started to question her gender or play with her pronouns, you know hayley was the first one to threaten anyone who dared to misgender hope! being able to tell hayley those things without fear or worry really just solidifies how important their bond is.

also, hayley was the only person to know about hope's crush on josie until hope blurted it to lizzie in season two

@fightforbetter asked: you really are something.

“You’re gonna have to finish that sentence. I’m so curious. Something what? AMAZING? Sweet? Wonderful? Handsome?” The last word is accompanied by him batting his eyelashes at her.

JOHN WICK FRANCHISE (2014-2023) PROMPTS || @fightforbetter

fourteen million is a lot of money

         "it certainly is. which is why i need to know precisely for what it is. preferably with a business plan of some sorts." just because he has the money doesn't mean he blindly spends it on everything just for the sake that it is spent.

“I don’t think people love me. They love the versions of me I have spun for them.”

The drink was making him maudlin, though it was the first evening in a long time where they were actually friendly company. The hybrid sat back in his high backed reading chair, studying Hayley for a few long moments, considering her words.

"Is that really not the same thing? I have walked this dreadful plain for a millennia. I have been a different version of myself with each turning century, decade, day even." A shrug as he set the whiskey glass down with a light clink. "You are not the same person moment to moment, but your essence remains the same. That's what attracts or repels the people around you. Those intrinsic pieces that make up you throughout every part you choose to present."

"For example, I can craft a charming and personable date, I can woo a gal until she swoons right into my bed - and yet she will remain wary, for good reason, until my true colors are revealed." A little quirk of his eyebrow as he looked over at Hayley, clearly unbothered by the way people found him unsettling. "So craft yourself any way that pleases you, knowing that underneath there are pieces that will never change."

“Well, boo hoo. I’m so sorry your feelings were hurt, princess.”

"Don't forget the curtsy, show some respect peasant."

☼: i have ideas but i’m not sure if you will like them

WELL LOOK AT THE PAIR WE ARE

I sent: "✧: i don’t have ideas so i can’t approach you yet"

I hate coming to the drawing board with nothing to contribute, but I'd love to hear yours?? I'll be in your DMs bby

@fightforbetter   liked   for   a   starter.

THREE   YEARS   AGO. It   was   his   first   time   crossing   through   the   veil   since   receiving   his   gift   from   Lucifer.   And   while   there   were   so   many   things   he   wanted   to   do,   hunting   was   especially   one   of   them.   His   mind   had   a   strong   intention   in   mind.   It   was   a   bit   of   a   surprise   for   himself,   when   he   pieced   together   the   destination   of   where   his   first   visit   was   going   to   be.   It   wasn’t   to   stop   in   and   check   on   the   Salvatore   School,   the   one   he   gave   the   money   to   Caroline   to   open.   Not only that, but it   wasn’t   tracking   down   his   daughter,   to   check   and   see   how   she   had   grown.   Nope,   he   found   himself   in   the   carved perfectly   up   tree   that   he   had   chosen   before   Hayley’s   funeral.   His   fingertips   brush   along   the   aging   wood,   her   name   still   completely   recognizable.   Underneath   her   name   was   Jackson   Kenner,   one   of   the   most   loyal   wolves   he   had   ever   met.   His   head   lowered   slightly   as   a   sigh   dropped   from   his   mouth.   Throughout   his   immortal   life,   Klaus   has   lost   many   friends,   enemies   and   more   of   the   sort.   Nonetheless,   losing   the   mother   of   his   child,   someone   who   always   put   him   in   his   place   when   needed   —   one   of   the   select   few   that   continued   to   show   him   compassion   when   they   should’ve   walked   away   long   ago.   “It   should’ve   been   me.”   His   voice   came   out   hushed,   as   if   he   was   speaking   just   to   her.   Niklaus   truly   believed   his   words,   his   biggest   regret   was   not   being   able   to   save   her.   Something   inside   of   him   was   disgusted   with   the   fact   that   he   was   still   able   to   be   among   the   living, and   she   was   gone.   “If   I   could   find   you   and   bring   you   back,   I   would.”   His   index   finger   traced   her   name   as   his   hushed   voice   slightly   cracked   under   the   grief   and   sadness   that   built   up   inside   of   him.   “I   do   miss   you   the   most,   little   wolf.”   As   his   final   words   disappeared   into   the   wind,   a   single   tear   rolled   down   his   cheeks,   stepping   back,   he   turned   away,   only   to   look   back   at   the   tree   once   as   he   went   to   continue   on   his   trip   —   ready   for   the   sweet   iron   taste   of   blood   to   grace   his   lips.   As   he   went   on   his   way,   his   thoughts   grew   more   and   more   clouded   with   flashes   of   blood-strained   images.   The   hot   iron   stabbing   sensation   in   his   throat   was   enough   for   him   to   cave   into   the   demon's   cravings.   With   a   deep   sigh,   his   face   fell   blank   of   any   emotion,   a   dangerous   smirk   twisted   upon   his   lips   as   he   began   his   killing   spree.  

[ HEAT ]:      while in the middle of a make-out session, sender pushes the receiver up against the wall, unwittingly heating things up even more.

it doesn't mean anything. he feels her hands span up along his chest, nails digging at the fabric of his shirt. it's just one night. ben tries to ignore the sound she made when his tongue flicks out across her pulse in the column of her neck. it doesn't mean anything. then why did a hum vibrate through his entire being when he feels her rough hands press him up against the nearby wall; stuttering his breath momentarily, mind stalling as he peers down at her kiss bruised lips, redden from his kiss. breath robbed from his lungs, he selfishly takes the moment to catch his breath; before he takes ahold of her by palming her jaw, curling his calloused fingers against the nape of her neck beneath her brown tresses, and brings her back in for another damning kiss, crashing their lips together.

❝ she’s fine, ❞  it’s always the first thing out of her mouth. because she knows the mikaelsons. so much as the slightest whiff of hope being anything less than perfectly, completely, pleasantly fine and she’s going to deal with an infestation of vampires, hybrids, witches, and whoever else on her doorstep. but she’s grateful that hayley is at least level headed when it comes to her daughter. switching her phone to her other ear, caroline sighs before she continues.  ❝ but there is...a thing. a minor thing. probably harmless. ❞  another pause, and she internally winces before delivering the death blow.  ❝ like a boy thing. ❞          /          @fightforbetter   +   liked for a starter ! 

Beautiful and young.  The eighteen year old had just one more reaping to get through before her name was never at risking being called again.  The name called and never once did she shed a tear as she knew that this could easily be the end of her.  There was nobody that she had to say goodbye to as her mother would be on that train and now an hour later finding herself on a train full of expensive things.  Landon had gone straight to his room to mourn or something.  It leaves her mother and her alone as the other mentor went with Landon.      ❝ The chances that I get out of this alive is 4% . ❞       If you just go based off the numbers and not who was well fed,  who had better skills, and more sponsors to their name.      ❝ This sure makes for a good show. ❞       It is all the Capitol ever wants is a show. Do they even care? Or are they all brainwashed to think of it as nothing more than fun?  Something that she’ll never know the answer to nor does it matter to focus on right now. Hope finds herself going down the long thing hallway toward her bedroom for the day.      ❝ So I guess I better use my beauty to my advantage for a little while . ❞       Hope’s stomach gets tight even thinking about this.       ❝ How do I use it ? ❞       aside from upper body strength & an ability to think fast the girl has nothing besides pretty eyes and hair that is auburn.  Landon has a mother that was a peacekeeper for 20 years before she even had Landon. Hope turns to look at her mother once they enter the bedroom,  eyes disparate for the other to teach her anything that could get her a leg up in this.        //    @fightforbetter​

@fightforbetter​ / plotted starter

        Her foot taps impatiently on the bus as they near the city limits, and Hope pulls her hood up over her head as she tries to avoid the suspicious stares from the few other riders. Each sound makes her eyes dart around, and she still hasn’t gotten used to the way her senses are constantly overstimulated ever since her transition. It didn’t take much to piece together what was going on, what with her father’s face pasted all over every flat surface, along with the familiar faces of a handful of others (and the unfamiliar faces of plenty more). Some with black x’s scratched over their eyes in an obvious marking of death, but what Hope doesn’t understand is why. She spent nearly an hour in front of the first wall she had found, with hundreds of posters staring out at her, heart in her throat as she tried to find any semblance of her mother. It was easy enough to find information on her aunts and uncles, with their connection to Klaus making them wanted targets. But there was no mention of a Hayley Marshall-Kenner anywhere she looked. 

Which was why Hope was currently on a bus to New Orleans. Her mother was one of the strongest people she knew, and she remembered how Hayley had kept them safe until she was seven, using skills that Hope was probably too young to really understand. Her thoughts are loud and overbearing as she tries to keep her limbs still, her hunger at bay, and everything feels like it’s closing in on her until the bus screeches to a stop just outside the city. She’s the first one off the bus and there might be witnesses to watching her speed away into the night but Hope doesn’t care because she is close, she’s so close. 

The streets look both the same and different from what she remembers, the hazy memory of a child not doing her much favors. After more than a few wrong turns, Hope ends up at St. Agnes’ Church and from there, she knows exactly how to get to her destination. By the time she nears the familiar building, her anticipation is practically sending vibrations through the foundation and she has to stop to calm herself before stepping past the threshold. As she looks around, Hope’s eyes dim. The compound looks abandoned, and she struggles to hide her disappointment because all her eggs had been in this one basket.

“Mom? I’m home...”

❝  leave.  before my patience runs out.  ❞

"Wow, someone's got her panties in a twist. Do I really become such an old bitch in the..." Well, by the looks of herself, she couldn't really guess how much older she was (and she didn't really look all that different; good genes win?). This was weird. Too weird. "Whatever. Listen, McFly, I was here first and now that you've designated yourself as the Big Bad Bitch around here, maybe I don't feel like leaving. Ever think of that? You should've: you're me, after all...at least, that's what you say. Still think there's something off here..." Something? Try everything. "Aren't you like breaking the space-time continuum by even speaking to me? Hell, while you're at it, keep going; maybe you'll improve my crappy reality."

@fightforbetter asked: i'm not here to pry into your personal life.

"No? Why not? My personal life is an open book. Literally - you ever read your kid fairy tales?" Wolf asked, a grin on his face and an eyebrow raised. "But you do have me curious, pup, what are you doing in this neck of the woods if not to pry? Oh, did you hear about my musical talents and want me to sing you a little ditty?"

JOHN WICK FRANCHISE (2014-2023) PROMPTS || @fightforbetter

you got out once

         "that happens to be a matter of opinion because i fear i didn't have another choice back then. either leave or risk a war within the family. fortunately, you are mostly unaware of the dark abysses that can open up unexpectedly. and i did pay the price for my absence. you’re quite rightly mad at me for leaving, and for my niece, i’m a stranger…"