Le notes: exams are done, I'm bored and I miss this show. Currently trying to fill the void with an ouat marathon and somehow, I ended up writing these drabbles. Some of these were prompted, most were not. Let me know if you have any requests, maybe I'll continue this. If my muse stops being so fickle, that is. Oh well, enjoy the show my lovelies.
Summary: park that car, drop that phone, sleep on the floor, and dream about me. ―-Multiple pairings/friendships (a series of unrelated drabbles, includes: klayley, camcel, tybekah, etc.)
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we long for starlight and the low tide
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part one
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klaus/hayley
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one: ―but in the light of the moon, the wolves will always call you back
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"What are you doing here?" she hisses out of the corner of her mouth.
He stands over her window sill, arms crossed over his chest, grinning like a maniac. A shadow of a sort of monster is his cloak as he makes her question why in the world she forgets to close her windows at night. After all, this isn't the first time that he had flown to her bay without a warning, like a peter pan to her wendy. Once every month, at the turn of the moon, Niklaus comes to her in phases of fire, ash, smoke, and bloodlight ―always carrying a hungry look in his eyes.
"Oh c'mon now love, no need for charades" he reaches for her chin, pulling her close and whispering something sinister in to her ear. "We both know why you leave your window open, every night."
"Klaus―" she slowly released, realizing that living in the same house as him would come at a price. One question remained, was Hayley Marshall willing to pay up, just yet? She didn't know. He answered her by shoving her against his chest; she noticed a fury in his gaze, the way his fingers dug in to the fabric of her hips. "Klaus stop!"
"I would." He grinned ―teeth looking sharp underneath the light of the moon― grinned wide enough to swallow her whole. "If you had truly wanted me to do so, little wolf, I would."
For a moment, her eyes meet his and she sees something dark swirling within his bright blue irises. Then, Hayley turns away. Her silence reveals her truest desires as her too-thin fingers close around his wrists.
Niklaus threw his head back and laughed. "You like me, far too much, Hayley."
"I hate you," she insists as the words quickly slip out of her lips. She expects him to laugh again but, he surprises her. Klaus bends down in order to press his lips against hers and at first, her eyes widen. However, soon afterwards, Hayley's shoulders sink in, and she closes her eyes and kisses back.
The wolf in him awakens as he pushes her against the wall, her head slamming back when he had bit in to the soft skin just above her breasts. "I hate you," she repeats. He responds only by biting her, harder. And Ihateyou, Ihateyou― she whispers in to his mouth.
I know, he mutters, weaving his fingers in to her chestnut colored hairs. His voice sounds softer now, sad even. Suddenly, she remembers why everyone always abandons this boy, currently tangled in her arms ―because he's toxic, self-destructive, and she is the same.
You're in love with someone else, she reminds him, unable to control the tears gathering in her eyes.
I know, this time, Klaus's tone is smug as he kisses her, all over again. I know.
Hayley thinks that it is far too late for her to start running now.
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marcel/camille
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two: ―you know those love songs break your heart
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(once upon a time au, marcel as peter pan and camille as a lost girl)
The piper's sad song plays every night, before she goes to sleep. She had heard it, long ago, as a child and well, legend says that only unloved boys and girls get to hear this broken hearted melody. Orphans, at most, feel unwanted quite often. Or so she thinks. And so, as a lass, she had followed the sound of the piper all the way in to the depths of the forbidden forest. There, many young ones had been seen dancing around bonfires, chanting savage songs as their enchanter remained lurking amongst the shadows. Tonight, however, things seemed a little different. A little odd since no other children were present, only her and the mysterious sleepless stranger.
She ventured around for a while, searching for the sounds' whereabouts. Curiously, the noise led her to a tall oak tree. There, at the edge of the largest branch, sat the piper boy. She stared at him as the moonlight shone above his head, only to reveal a few of his features. It was quite an interesting phenomenon since no one had ever seen his face before. He was always hidden by a shadow, a shadow many called Pan.
Camille looks up to catch a glimpse of dark hairs and eyes. Then, the music suddenly stops.
The shadow descends, catching her off guard, twisting his arm around her waist and pulling her close. She clenches her fingers into fists as her heart speeds up at his touch.
"Pan," she mistakenly releases, catching his gaze.
"Actually," surprisingly, the piper boy only smiles, lips turning as dark as blood. "Pan is the title the villagers had given me. I prefer to go by my first name," he leans in close in order to whisper, "Marcellus."
Nervously, she gulps as his fingers push a few strands of her hairs behind her ear. She regrets her decision, almost immediately. She should have been a good little girl and stayed in bed instead of venturing out in to the darkness of the night, only to be whisked away by the prince of Neverland.
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tyler/rebekah
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three: ―we long for journeys and the roadside, we long for fairytales and firesides
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She finds him on the side of the road, utterly surprised by his presence. She had no clue how he had managed to escape Marcel's prison grounds. But, then again, Tyler Lockwood always was a clever boy.
He's bruised, covered in bloodied scars with a tortured look on his face. She wonders what measures he had taken in order to gain his freedom. Somehow, someway, she found him admirable and yet, she herself was a coward. For Rebekah had wanted this much, freedom. But, she'd always missed her chance. In a moment, she thinks the brave freedom fighter dead, rotting on the sidewalk.
Rebekah puts her hand to his chest, leans down and whispers "Hello? Tyler…are you…alive?" She sticks out a hand and touches his shoulder. He groans, turning over to see her glowing face. He's shocked, more than relieved that someone had finally found him. And to think that that someone had to be her.
"Rebekah?" He whispers as his eyes widen. Tyler's head had somehow ended up on her lap.
Shockingly, she sees the brief spark of life in his eyes, and sadness, and pain, and so much hurt. So she bites in to her wrist and presses her bloodied skin against his mouth, trying to ease his suffering and heal his wounds. He drinks first, before pulling away quickly, regaining some strength. "I thought you would have left me to die."
Her smile is…refreshing. "We were on the same side once," she specifies, "I figured I might owe you one."
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klaus/camille
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four: ―don't ask me about his lips
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He kisses her underneath a crisp full moon, in the middle of November rain, on a lonely and gloomy night. His lips burn hers, leaving a red mark behind. They stretch full over white teeth, taut like a drum. His hands graze over her skin. She can tell that his fingers are scarred with stories because of the way they slide down her legs, hungrily. Her stomach drops when he looks at her and her palms itch for his bones.
("Cami," Rebekah is the one to snap her out of her reverie. "Did you hear me?" She questions.
The girl shakes her head, pushing her cursed thoughts about the hybrid out of her mind. "Sorry, what did you say?" Later, she'll gaze at Niklaus with a distasteful smile, hiding beneath this shadow of desire and wanting).
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elijah/hayley
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five: ―oh darling, my heart's on fire
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Every time he touches her, he always leaves a burning trail of numerous emotions lingering on her skin. They tither, somewhere between sadness, hope, desperation, and betrayal. She's never felt all that before. Each emotion separately felt painful enough but with him, there's this jumble of hurt and sorrow and sometimes ―sometimes― she wishes that they had never met. At least then, she wouldn't be affected by his actions. She wouldn't be so moved by his declarations.
She wouldn't be so afraid of losing herself, all over again.
Because on the nights where she cries herself to sleep, he catches her tears and reminds her that it is okay to believe in someone. It is okay to trust, to care, to depend. Not everyone will end up disappointing her. Elijah swears by this.
He'd never let her get hurt. Never again.
("I'm frightened," she whispers, "of how much I matter to you. Trust me Elijah; I'm not all that reliable."
"But I am," he presses his lips to her too-thin fingers, "and I would never cease to look after you." He whispers in to her skin. "I promise you, Hayley. I won't abandon you."
She cries in to his arms as the memories of her missing parents pass her by).
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davina/marcel
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six: ―park that car, drop that phone
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He'd realized that she'd been gone for a couple of hours, though he hadn't realized that she'd actually fallen asleep inside his car. Marcel leans over, knocking on the glass in order to catch her attention. Davina slowly lifts her eyelids, watching his lips curl in to a smile at the sight of her wakefulness. She sighs, much to his disappointment.
"What are you doing in there?" Marcel questions.
Davina rolls the window down, sending him a deathly glare. "Sleeping."
"I can see that," he mentions, "but why in my car? Klaus offered you a perfectly good bedroom."
"Do you honestly think that I want to live under the same roof as Klaus?" She had a point, a good one at that. And Marcel didn't exactly disagree with her sentiments. "Besides," Davina continues, "your car is the only place where I feel safe."
Her confession moves him. And though he understood her concerns, Marcel had seen Klaus's kind demeanor. He wishes that Davina would also notice that, more than anything. "Klaus is an artist too, you know? Maybe you two could bond over that. Share painting supplies, trade skills and secrets behind mixing colors…all that jazz."
"I'm sure we'd get along just as great as Vincent Van Gogh's partnership with Paul Gaughin." She sarcastically rings and, unfortunately for her, Marcel's knowledge on art history is quite lacking.
"Will you, just try?" He asks, desperately. "Klaus isn't all bad. He saved my life and took me under his wing. That must mean something to you."
They lock eyes. She contemplates on the decision of whether or not to start boiling his blood. "I'm not as forgiving as you are, Marcel. Klaus is dangerous, and I won't trust him. No matter what you say to me." She turns over to her side as the window rolls shut. Davina closes her eyes again, drifting off in to a deep slumber.
Marcel starts to think that perhaps, Davina and Klaus share many more similarities. More specifically, ones that don't have to do with art and it's to his shocking surprise that this might frighten him, just a little.
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Tbc
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Le more notes: I'll post part two in about a week or so. Happy holidays!
―Xoxo Carter