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YOU CAN PRETEND YOU DON'T CARE | PRIVATE - Margaery - 07-23-2018
MARGAERY FOLIE-MIKAELSON
[table][tr][td][/td][td][/td][td][/td][/tr][/table]MAKE ME QUEEN OR
I'LL MAKE YOU BLEED
I'LL MAKE YOU BLEED
(i'm such a hoe.... for human aus....)
For a moment, everything was still, quiet, peaceful. Gray eyes would blink a few times, the world around her coming into focus as she finally sat up and instinctively wrapped her arms around her chest. Oh... that was right, she had camped out in her gardens last night, needing an escape from the Observatory and its confining walls. Everything had gotten to be a bit much for the woman as of late, the quarrel between Shay and Bast as well as Shay's death and resurrection really and truly finding a way to weigh on her. She wanted it all to stop, because she was breaking and nobody knew. Nobody could know.
This was her burden to bare alone.
But Shay wasn't an idiot- she had to have detected some underlying current of misery, Margaery's smiles more and more forced, her once cheery greetings now nothing more than hollow words. Her wife knew her better than that - could probably see right through her carefully crafted facade at the breaking, crumbling girl under it. But she couldn't even look her lover in the eye without being met with a guilt so strong that it threatened to drown her, because what had happened to her had been her fault. And the more she got to thinking about it, the more she realized that this entire mess was her fault. Every, single little detail. Gods above, did that hurt.
She couldn't internalize this anymore though, not with Genevieve desperately attempting to convince her to switch off, to give into the darkness for even a few days simply so she could rest. Margaery wouldn't lie: that offer was tempting. It'd be like a vacation, but her counterpart was not a good person. She'd wreck havoc upon her friends and family just as she had weeks ago and when Margaery finally did return, she'd be left to pick up the pieces. Not again. She couldn't do it again. But as each day came and passed, she slowly realized that she had two options. She could either give in or she could talk to someone about everything that gnawed at her.
Shay. I need you. Gardens, now, love.
The thought was formed and sent down the bond before she could even comprehend what she had done. No. No. She couldn't talk to her wife about this... Inevitably, she and Bast's fight would be brought up and Margaery would lose it. Even thinking about it caused the blood in her veins to ignite, pure fire coursing through her as her rage built and built. How could they have let this happen? How could they have put her in the middle of it? Nik had been her undoing just as much as the both of them had, and fuck did that hurt to acknowledge.
Maybe this discussion was for the best though.
Even if she felt as if it might not progress exactly as planned.
A sigh would fall from Margaery's lips as she pulled her knees into her chest, already fighting the instinctive urge to cry. You're stronger than that, sugar, Genevieve snorted in the back of her mind. [b]"Oh, how I wish that was true, love."
There was only silence from the other girl and how that silence was absolutely deafening.
"See?" She inquired softly, "Even you know that I'm weak."
For a moment, everything was still, quiet, peaceful. Gray eyes would blink a few times, the world around her coming into focus as she finally sat up and instinctively wrapped her arms around her chest. Oh... that was right, she had camped out in her gardens last night, needing an escape from the Observatory and its confining walls. Everything had gotten to be a bit much for the woman as of late, the quarrel between Shay and Bast as well as Shay's death and resurrection really and truly finding a way to weigh on her. She wanted it all to stop, because she was breaking and nobody knew. Nobody could know.
This was her burden to bare alone.
But Shay wasn't an idiot- she had to have detected some underlying current of misery, Margaery's smiles more and more forced, her once cheery greetings now nothing more than hollow words. Her wife knew her better than that - could probably see right through her carefully crafted facade at the breaking, crumbling girl under it. But she couldn't even look her lover in the eye without being met with a guilt so strong that it threatened to drown her, because what had happened to her had been her fault. And the more she got to thinking about it, the more she realized that this entire mess was her fault. Every, single little detail. Gods above, did that hurt.
She couldn't internalize this anymore though, not with Genevieve desperately attempting to convince her to switch off, to give into the darkness for even a few days simply so she could rest. Margaery wouldn't lie: that offer was tempting. It'd be like a vacation, but her counterpart was not a good person. She'd wreck havoc upon her friends and family just as she had weeks ago and when Margaery finally did return, she'd be left to pick up the pieces. Not again. She couldn't do it again. But as each day came and passed, she slowly realized that she had two options. She could either give in or she could talk to someone about everything that gnawed at her.
Shay. I need you. Gardens, now, love.
The thought was formed and sent down the bond before she could even comprehend what she had done. No. No. She couldn't talk to her wife about this... Inevitably, she and Bast's fight would be brought up and Margaery would lose it. Even thinking about it caused the blood in her veins to ignite, pure fire coursing through her as her rage built and built. How could they have let this happen? How could they have put her in the middle of it? Nik had been her undoing just as much as the both of them had, and fuck did that hurt to acknowledge.
Maybe this discussion was for the best though.
Even if she felt as if it might not progress exactly as planned.
A sigh would fall from Margaery's lips as she pulled her knees into her chest, already fighting the instinctive urge to cry. You're stronger than that, sugar, Genevieve snorted in the back of her mind. [b]"Oh, how I wish that was true, love."
There was only silence from the other girl and how that silence was absolutely deafening.
"See?" She inquired softly, "Even you know that I'm weak."
© MADI
Re: YOU CAN PRETEND YOU DON'T CARE | PRIVATE - Suiteheart - 07-23-2018
SUITE
HEART
HEART
Shaking hands moved gently across a sheet of paper, the pen in Shay's hand crafting messy writing. Her head was pounding, and she could barely concentrate on the song she was planning out. Her face was contorted in pain, in anger, in exhaustion, as she lifted her trembling hand. Why was she shaking so badly? Why couldn't she stop? Her emotions had been bottled up for so long she felt as though she were about to burst.
Her mind began to wander, and as thoughts poured in, her hands continued to tremble. All incidents as of late were weighing down on her. Her fight with Bastille was still a fresh cut, and every shitty look he gave her was like rubbing salt into the wound. Cooper's sickness was incredibly worrying as well; each day, he seemed to look weaker and weaker. Besides that, tensions with her wife had been high, and they had argued not too long ago. On top of all of that, her death and return still tugged on her being - a new type of weariness weighed her down now.
She couldn't catch a break, but then again, maybe she didn't deserve one. She had been the cause of so much suffering lately. Did she deserve anything good? Did she deserve the time to heal and have peace? Shay wasn't so sure. She shut her eyes and bit her lip, forcing out any type of sadness or frustration or anger that attempted to enter her heart, her mind. The blonde woman was frayed at the ends, and it was perhaps only a matter of time before she exploded. Her only solace was the fact that Erlend was managing to keep her emotions somewhat together.
Shay. I need you. Gardens, now, love.
All at once, her shuddering ceased. She blinked, blue eyes turning into that deadly shade of burning amber. She wasn't angry or hungry, but something about Margaery's command brought out her vampiristic side. She refused to question her wife's wishes. Instead, she moved from her desk in silence, previous task completely forgotten in favor of Margaery's want.
It had taken mere moments to reach the gardens, and there, Shay found her lover sat in the fetal position. A deep concern marked her features as she moved to sit down beside Margaery. "You... wanted to see me?" the Admiral murmured in question, the amber in her eyes dripping away to reveal bright azure.
She didn't even realize she had began to hold her breath as she waited for Margaery to speak.
Her mind began to wander, and as thoughts poured in, her hands continued to tremble. All incidents as of late were weighing down on her. Her fight with Bastille was still a fresh cut, and every shitty look he gave her was like rubbing salt into the wound. Cooper's sickness was incredibly worrying as well; each day, he seemed to look weaker and weaker. Besides that, tensions with her wife had been high, and they had argued not too long ago. On top of all of that, her death and return still tugged on her being - a new type of weariness weighed her down now.
She couldn't catch a break, but then again, maybe she didn't deserve one. She had been the cause of so much suffering lately. Did she deserve anything good? Did she deserve the time to heal and have peace? Shay wasn't so sure. She shut her eyes and bit her lip, forcing out any type of sadness or frustration or anger that attempted to enter her heart, her mind. The blonde woman was frayed at the ends, and it was perhaps only a matter of time before she exploded. Her only solace was the fact that Erlend was managing to keep her emotions somewhat together.
Shay. I need you. Gardens, now, love.
All at once, her shuddering ceased. She blinked, blue eyes turning into that deadly shade of burning amber. She wasn't angry or hungry, but something about Margaery's command brought out her vampiristic side. She refused to question her wife's wishes. Instead, she moved from her desk in silence, previous task completely forgotten in favor of Margaery's want.
It had taken mere moments to reach the gardens, and there, Shay found her lover sat in the fetal position. A deep concern marked her features as she moved to sit down beside Margaery. "You... wanted to see me?" the Admiral murmured in question, the amber in her eyes dripping away to reveal bright azure.
She didn't even realize she had began to hold her breath as she waited for Margaery to speak.
[b]suiteheart folie-mikaelson . ecliptic admiral . the ascendants . tags
Re: YOU CAN PRETEND YOU DON'T CARE | PRIVATE - Margaery - 07-23-2018
MARGAERY FOLIE-MIKAELSON
[table][tr][td][/td][td][/td][td][/td][/tr][/table]MAKE ME QUEEN OR
I'LL MAKE YOU BLEED
I'LL MAKE YOU BLEED
Ah yes, she supposed that Shay's new found compliancy was also an issue, though one that was not nearly as great as her others. Whatever made her so eager to listen was beyond Margaery, and admittedly, she just figured it was a side effect of their bond and how intricately intertwined the both of their souls were. Or maybe, she was simply overthinking this entire thing and Shay had always been this... willing to push aside everything for Margaery. She guessed that that made sense- they loved each other after all; but while that was the most logical explanation, she still felt as if there was something she was missing. This new dynamic (or was it new? She honestly couldn't say anymore) presented her with an expertly designed puzzle, one that she could not figure out for the life of her.
It was... awful, honestly.
But Margaery had better things to think about, absently tracing figure eights into her knee as she waited for Shay's arrival. A part of her was convinced that this meeting was going to go poorly. Since Shay's death and subsequent revival, there had been some disconnect between the two, Margaery's guilt clouding her perception and judgement about anything that pertained to her wife. She could detect the Admiral's frustrations too, the imbalance in her emotions succeeding in throwing even Margaery off kilter a bit. Control was a finicky thing already for the young woman and as much as she hated to admit it, Shay was doing her no favors. She knew she couldn't exactly blame her wife for that though, the tether between them beyond both of their controls (for the most part, that was). She just wished there was something that she could do to alleviate it all.
Another sigh drifted from her lips, her hands practically shaking now as she continued to anticipate the arrival of her wife. Her gardens weren't that far away, were they? Just relax, Margaery. Please... You're worrying us... All of us. A soft voice drew her from her thoughts, the faintest of smiles appearing on her lips for only a brief moment as she realized it was Maarit making an attempt at communication. Very rarely did the oldest part of herself make any appearances, never fighting for control or even raising her voice to speak to Margaery. She must be in a rather rough shape then... How could she have let herself fall so low?
[b]"You... wanted to see me?"
Those amber eyes... it was ironic, even as a vampire Shay was brighter - better - than she was. Her own deep red eyes could not even begin to rival the gold her wife possessed. She wasn't born a monster, sugar, Cooed Genevieve, You made her one. It seems only fitting that she looks less like you and more like something good. Nails would dig into her arm at that thought, her grip so tight that it threatened to draw blood. Did I touch a nerve? My bad. But really, you should talk to her about how you feel and all that junk. Maybe I'll be able to make jokes if you do.
"Shay... Hi..." Margaery greeted quietly, biting a lip as she contemplated just how she wanted to present her current qualms. That urge to cry had returned and stronger this time, fresh tears threatening to spill over her cheeks at any moment. "Look... I..." Could she say it without breaking? Could she confess that the world was weighing too heavily upon her back and, underneath its force, she was crumbling? "I can't do it..."
It was as if those words were enough to destroy Margaery's otherwise calm composure, face contorting with sadness. Margaery, pearl, you aren't weak... Maarit's words fell on deaf ears, or rather, unconvinced ones. She knew she was weak- everyone knew she was weak. "You're putting me... you're putting m-me in such an awful position! This st-stupid fight... with Bast! It's ridiculous! It's like you two haven't e-even thought... about... about Hazel and I... and that isn't fair! Not to mention... everything else... Fuck." Margaery very rarely cursed, reserving that privilege for her wife usually. She didn't have any other word that conveyed her situation better however, and in her rush of emotion, it had just slipped out.
"I.. I can't... No... I don't understand... Why?"
It was... awful, honestly.
But Margaery had better things to think about, absently tracing figure eights into her knee as she waited for Shay's arrival. A part of her was convinced that this meeting was going to go poorly. Since Shay's death and subsequent revival, there had been some disconnect between the two, Margaery's guilt clouding her perception and judgement about anything that pertained to her wife. She could detect the Admiral's frustrations too, the imbalance in her emotions succeeding in throwing even Margaery off kilter a bit. Control was a finicky thing already for the young woman and as much as she hated to admit it, Shay was doing her no favors. She knew she couldn't exactly blame her wife for that though, the tether between them beyond both of their controls (for the most part, that was). She just wished there was something that she could do to alleviate it all.
Another sigh drifted from her lips, her hands practically shaking now as she continued to anticipate the arrival of her wife. Her gardens weren't that far away, were they? Just relax, Margaery. Please... You're worrying us... All of us. A soft voice drew her from her thoughts, the faintest of smiles appearing on her lips for only a brief moment as she realized it was Maarit making an attempt at communication. Very rarely did the oldest part of herself make any appearances, never fighting for control or even raising her voice to speak to Margaery. She must be in a rather rough shape then... How could she have let herself fall so low?
[b]"You... wanted to see me?"
Those amber eyes... it was ironic, even as a vampire Shay was brighter - better - than she was. Her own deep red eyes could not even begin to rival the gold her wife possessed. She wasn't born a monster, sugar, Cooed Genevieve, You made her one. It seems only fitting that she looks less like you and more like something good. Nails would dig into her arm at that thought, her grip so tight that it threatened to draw blood. Did I touch a nerve? My bad. But really, you should talk to her about how you feel and all that junk. Maybe I'll be able to make jokes if you do.
"Shay... Hi..." Margaery greeted quietly, biting a lip as she contemplated just how she wanted to present her current qualms. That urge to cry had returned and stronger this time, fresh tears threatening to spill over her cheeks at any moment. "Look... I..." Could she say it without breaking? Could she confess that the world was weighing too heavily upon her back and, underneath its force, she was crumbling? "I can't do it..."
It was as if those words were enough to destroy Margaery's otherwise calm composure, face contorting with sadness. Margaery, pearl, you aren't weak... Maarit's words fell on deaf ears, or rather, unconvinced ones. She knew she was weak- everyone knew she was weak. "You're putting me... you're putting m-me in such an awful position! This st-stupid fight... with Bast! It's ridiculous! It's like you two haven't e-even thought... about... about Hazel and I... and that isn't fair! Not to mention... everything else... Fuck." Margaery very rarely cursed, reserving that privilege for her wife usually. She didn't have any other word that conveyed her situation better however, and in her rush of emotion, it had just slipped out.
"I.. I can't... No... I don't understand... Why?"
© MADI
Re: YOU CAN PRETEND YOU DON'T CARE | PRIVATE - Suiteheart - 07-24-2018
SUITE
HEART
HEART
Brighter. Hm. Brighter, yes, but not better. While Shay's newfound vampirism was gilded-colored eyes and baby steps, it was no less graceful than Margaery's abilities. It was just as dark. The hunger was always there - burning, just underneath her skin, in the pit of her stomach. The need to kill sparked to life in her chest. Her rage... God, her anger was hair-trigger (it was only thanks to Erlend that her head was even on straight). The first few days had been a breeze: she had felt brand new and reborn in every sense of the word, but she had removed her rose-colored glasses. She was a weapon now. She was sired in the hopes of saving love, in hopes of protecting it, but Selene had found a way to warp that.
Margaery had changed her, hoping for a true everlasting love. Selene had toyed with that idea for mere moments before scrapping it, replacing it with something dimmer, less welcoming, more haunting. While the molten amber, the shiny yellow of something new danced in her ocean eyes, it masked so much.
Margaery was a rose whose velveteen petals hid steel-lined thorns. Shay was an ocean on a calm day that harbored a great beast underneath its waves.
Or maybe she wasn't. Shay's perspective on things had been askew as of late. While Selene had sewed up her fragmented soul, Aerona and Lorelei poked and prodded and manipulated. They were the reason she had yet to apologize to Bastille. They were the reason her demeanor changed so suddenly, without warning. They were reason she had fought with Margaery.
Right? ... Right?
Her chain of thoughts was broken as Margaery began to speak. The weight of her wife's words hit her almost at once, and she had to catch her breath. Shay could feel the sadness welling up inside of Margaery, threatening to boil over, to come cascading down over the two of them. Shay felt the urge to reach out, to hold Margaery, but she withheld. The scar around her throat felt like it was on fire, but that was just the phantom feelings of death returning to her as Margaery thought about the incident.
"Can't do what?" Shay asked, voice barely above a whisper. She closed her eyes as she waited for the answer. She knew what it was. In her heart of hearts, the woman knew what it was, but she... She had to hear Margaery say it. She had to hear Margaery confirm it, to push the knife Shay had placed in her own chest deeper. She had to hear Margaery utter those words, to twist the knife. She needed to hear her wife, the person she loved the most, tell her how this was all her fault before ripping the knife out and then plunging it in deeper.
'Oh, is that betrayal I taste, love?' Lorelei queried. 'Best be careful with that emotion. We all know what occured last time any of us felt that.'
Shay squeezed her eyes shut tighter. No. No. No. It wasn't betrayal. She knew Margaery was right; this was her fault. All of this was her doing and no one else's. Right?
Why was she so at odds with herself, with everyone else?
"You're..." she paused, eyes opening again. "You're acting like I... Like I'm not hurting." She closed her mouth, a frown appearing. She crossed her arms. Defensive. Shay slowly began to sink into herself. Margaery's emotions hit her like a tidal wave, and what was left in its wake was something nasty. "I can't choose where you put yourself in all of this, Marg. That's on you, not me. And while we're on that topic, I can't fucking control what Bast does either or anyone else for that matter."
She stood then, moving away from Margaery, away from the hurt. She dropped her hands to her sides, and they balled into fists at Margaery's next words. "... What? How could I not care about you and Hazel? Are you listening to yourself?! Marg, that's bullshit and you fucking know it!" A pained look crossed her pale features. "Everything I ever do - it's always been for you... The whole reason this fight is a fucking thing is because I was thinking of you and Hazel! I was trying to protect Haze, protect you, and-!" She stopped herself for a beat. "How could you think that I don't care?"
The blonde woman crossed her arms again as if to shield herself. "Everything else that's happening... Cooper being sick, Rin getting sick, me dying, you not being able to look at me - that's not on me either." The scar... It was hurting again. It was as if she could still feel Nik's knife.
Margaery's final words caused Shay to scoff sadly. "'Why'? Well, isn't that the question?" She hugged her arms closer to herself. "I wish I knew the fucking answer."
Margaery had changed her, hoping for a true everlasting love. Selene had toyed with that idea for mere moments before scrapping it, replacing it with something dimmer, less welcoming, more haunting. While the molten amber, the shiny yellow of something new danced in her ocean eyes, it masked so much.
Margaery was a rose whose velveteen petals hid steel-lined thorns. Shay was an ocean on a calm day that harbored a great beast underneath its waves.
Or maybe she wasn't. Shay's perspective on things had been askew as of late. While Selene had sewed up her fragmented soul, Aerona and Lorelei poked and prodded and manipulated. They were the reason she had yet to apologize to Bastille. They were the reason her demeanor changed so suddenly, without warning. They were reason she had fought with Margaery.
Right? ... Right?
Her chain of thoughts was broken as Margaery began to speak. The weight of her wife's words hit her almost at once, and she had to catch her breath. Shay could feel the sadness welling up inside of Margaery, threatening to boil over, to come cascading down over the two of them. Shay felt the urge to reach out, to hold Margaery, but she withheld. The scar around her throat felt like it was on fire, but that was just the phantom feelings of death returning to her as Margaery thought about the incident.
"Can't do what?" Shay asked, voice barely above a whisper. She closed her eyes as she waited for the answer. She knew what it was. In her heart of hearts, the woman knew what it was, but she... She had to hear Margaery say it. She had to hear Margaery confirm it, to push the knife Shay had placed in her own chest deeper. She had to hear Margaery utter those words, to twist the knife. She needed to hear her wife, the person she loved the most, tell her how this was all her fault before ripping the knife out and then plunging it in deeper.
'Oh, is that betrayal I taste, love?' Lorelei queried. 'Best be careful with that emotion. We all know what occured last time any of us felt that.'
Shay squeezed her eyes shut tighter. No. No. No. It wasn't betrayal. She knew Margaery was right; this was her fault. All of this was her doing and no one else's. Right?
Why was she so at odds with herself, with everyone else?
"You're..." she paused, eyes opening again. "You're acting like I... Like I'm not hurting." She closed her mouth, a frown appearing. She crossed her arms. Defensive. Shay slowly began to sink into herself. Margaery's emotions hit her like a tidal wave, and what was left in its wake was something nasty. "I can't choose where you put yourself in all of this, Marg. That's on you, not me. And while we're on that topic, I can't fucking control what Bast does either or anyone else for that matter."
She stood then, moving away from Margaery, away from the hurt. She dropped her hands to her sides, and they balled into fists at Margaery's next words. "... What? How could I not care about you and Hazel? Are you listening to yourself?! Marg, that's bullshit and you fucking know it!" A pained look crossed her pale features. "Everything I ever do - it's always been for you... The whole reason this fight is a fucking thing is because I was thinking of you and Hazel! I was trying to protect Haze, protect you, and-!" She stopped herself for a beat. "How could you think that I don't care?"
The blonde woman crossed her arms again as if to shield herself. "Everything else that's happening... Cooper being sick, Rin getting sick, me dying, you not being able to look at me - that's not on me either." The scar... It was hurting again. It was as if she could still feel Nik's knife.
Margaery's final words caused Shay to scoff sadly. "'Why'? Well, isn't that the question?" She hugged her arms closer to herself. "I wish I knew the fucking answer."
[b]suiteheart folie-mikaelson . ecliptic admiral . the ascendants . tags
Re: YOU CAN PRETEND YOU DON'T CARE | PRIVATE - Margaery - 07-25-2018
MARGAERY FOLIE-MIKAELSON
[table][tr][td][/td][td][/td][td][/td][/tr][/table]MAKE ME QUEEN OR
I'LL MAKE YOU BLEED
I'LL MAKE YOU BLEED
Why Margaery laughed in the face of this situation, she did not know. The sound - blunt and awkward - tumbled easily from parted lips, growing more hollow and more pained by the second. She'd cut herself off after a few moments, wiping away fast approaching tears the best she could because she suddenly couldn't stand to know that Shay was seeing her like this. After her defense... her words... she didn't deserve to watch Margaery crumble. No one did- not Shay or Bast or Hazel or even her own damn family. When she broke, she broke alone- audience after audience before had proved that, had told her that she was inconsiderate of their feelings, had diminished her own problems and pains in favor of their own.
Why did Shay have to be like them?
For a moment, there was nothing but a painful silence, Margaery's gaze steely as she stared at her wife. Those ocean eyes - her ocean eyes - were so full of pain, pain that apparently she hadn't been mindful of. How dare she then? How dare she attempt to tackle the issues that caused their disconnect? Margaery had saved Shay's life, had begged and pleaded her heart out to Selene above in hopes that she would take some pity upon her loyal follower and grant her wife a second chance. She hadn't even gotten a fucking thank you. But that didn't matter! Not because Shay was hurting and her hurt obviously outweighed Margaery's.
It would have been easier if Shay had just said "fuck you" and left.
So much easier.
The woman shifted, made uncomfortable by this entire situation. She did not rise to her feet nor did she make any move to close the distance between she and the Admiral, instead holding her stare and letting her anger - hot and bitter - simmer in her veins. [b]"You may not be able to control what Bast does, but that doesn't mean you can't control what you do. Don't play that card, Shay... Don't you fucking dare. You're my wife and yet, here you are, invalidating my feelings just like everyone else does. I know you're hurting... I can feel it! But I'm one misstep away from handing control over to Genevieve and never coming back. Don't you realize that?" Her voice tapered, desperation clinging to it.
"I just want to go home..."
She didn't mean back to the Observatory or even to the Islands- no, she meant the manor with her father and mother and aunts and uncles. Surely Shay would consider that a low-blow.... But the regret that she felt was short lived, extinguished the moment Shay accused her of thinking that she didn't care. Oh, she knew how much her wife cared- she was practically drowning in her concern all the fucking time. And yet, the moment she verbally expressed anything, she was met with this onslaught of absolute bullshit. A hypocrite. Shay was a goddamn hypocrite.
Her eyes found the scar, jaw clenching as a wave of nausea passed over her. Her fault. Her fault. Her fault. Her fault. She remembered finding Shay's crumbled body, holding her close as blood spilled over her hands, crying and begging and wishing that Nik hadn't come... hadn't destroyed her lover. Margaery did not look at the scar, could not look at the scar. Shay had been right about that... But sometimes, when she was certain that sleep had claimed her wife, she'd absently trace it, silent tears slipping from half-lidded eyes, the pale moonlight dancing upon her shuddering form.
Her fault.
Her fault.
Her fault.
"I wish you didn't care so much about me!" Breaking. She was breaking. Genevieve, Maarit, Ingrid... they were all holding their breaths in anticipation, trying their best to calm her down, to ground her. But she was too engulfed in anger. In betrayal. In sadness. She hardly felt them at all. "You want to know why I can't look at you? Because if you hadn't ever loved me, you would have had the opportunity to be happy. You would have lived and died in our village, surrounded by children, honorable and balanced- just as Erlend wanted. But no... I had to take you with me, I had to curse you to eternal damnation too... I had to let my father ruin you... and that scar is a living reminder of everything I've dragged you through. It's all my fault. Don't you see that, love? And because you care so goddamn much, you're just hurting yourself too."
"I'm not worth it... Please, understand that..."
"Please... see me as the monster that I am..."
Break alone, Margaery. Break alone... Do not fold in front of her... You can't. You can't. No one cares... there's no one there. No one. You're alone. You're alone.
But she couldn't hold herself together anymore, breathing fast and shallow as her emotions finally succeeded in drowning her. And perhaps that was the end of Margaery Mikaelson, her undoing... her temporary demise. For, when she spoke again, her voice was smaller, softer, more reminiscent of an ancient time long ago.
"Erlend wouldn't do this to me."
Did you love and never learn, sweet?
Why did Shay have to be like them?
For a moment, there was nothing but a painful silence, Margaery's gaze steely as she stared at her wife. Those ocean eyes - her ocean eyes - were so full of pain, pain that apparently she hadn't been mindful of. How dare she then? How dare she attempt to tackle the issues that caused their disconnect? Margaery had saved Shay's life, had begged and pleaded her heart out to Selene above in hopes that she would take some pity upon her loyal follower and grant her wife a second chance. She hadn't even gotten a fucking thank you. But that didn't matter! Not because Shay was hurting and her hurt obviously outweighed Margaery's.
It would have been easier if Shay had just said "fuck you" and left.
So much easier.
The woman shifted, made uncomfortable by this entire situation. She did not rise to her feet nor did she make any move to close the distance between she and the Admiral, instead holding her stare and letting her anger - hot and bitter - simmer in her veins. [b]"You may not be able to control what Bast does, but that doesn't mean you can't control what you do. Don't play that card, Shay... Don't you fucking dare. You're my wife and yet, here you are, invalidating my feelings just like everyone else does. I know you're hurting... I can feel it! But I'm one misstep away from handing control over to Genevieve and never coming back. Don't you realize that?" Her voice tapered, desperation clinging to it.
"I just want to go home..."
She didn't mean back to the Observatory or even to the Islands- no, she meant the manor with her father and mother and aunts and uncles. Surely Shay would consider that a low-blow.... But the regret that she felt was short lived, extinguished the moment Shay accused her of thinking that she didn't care. Oh, she knew how much her wife cared- she was practically drowning in her concern all the fucking time. And yet, the moment she verbally expressed anything, she was met with this onslaught of absolute bullshit. A hypocrite. Shay was a goddamn hypocrite.
Her eyes found the scar, jaw clenching as a wave of nausea passed over her. Her fault. Her fault. Her fault. Her fault. She remembered finding Shay's crumbled body, holding her close as blood spilled over her hands, crying and begging and wishing that Nik hadn't come... hadn't destroyed her lover. Margaery did not look at the scar, could not look at the scar. Shay had been right about that... But sometimes, when she was certain that sleep had claimed her wife, she'd absently trace it, silent tears slipping from half-lidded eyes, the pale moonlight dancing upon her shuddering form.
Her fault.
Her fault.
Her fault.
"I wish you didn't care so much about me!" Breaking. She was breaking. Genevieve, Maarit, Ingrid... they were all holding their breaths in anticipation, trying their best to calm her down, to ground her. But she was too engulfed in anger. In betrayal. In sadness. She hardly felt them at all. "You want to know why I can't look at you? Because if you hadn't ever loved me, you would have had the opportunity to be happy. You would have lived and died in our village, surrounded by children, honorable and balanced- just as Erlend wanted. But no... I had to take you with me, I had to curse you to eternal damnation too... I had to let my father ruin you... and that scar is a living reminder of everything I've dragged you through. It's all my fault. Don't you see that, love? And because you care so goddamn much, you're just hurting yourself too."
"I'm not worth it... Please, understand that..."
"Please... see me as the monster that I am..."
Break alone, Margaery. Break alone... Do not fold in front of her... You can't. You can't. No one cares... there's no one there. No one. You're alone. You're alone.
But she couldn't hold herself together anymore, breathing fast and shallow as her emotions finally succeeded in drowning her. And perhaps that was the end of Margaery Mikaelson, her undoing... her temporary demise. For, when she spoke again, her voice was smaller, softer, more reminiscent of an ancient time long ago.
"Erlend wouldn't do this to me."
Did you love and never learn, sweet?
© MADI
Re: YOU CAN PRETEND YOU DON'T CARE | PRIVATE - Suiteheart - 07-25-2018
SUITE
HEART
HEART
Shay wanted to take back her words, to take back everything, as she felt the laughter bubbling inside of Margaery. Through the bond, she experienced it, as if it were growing inside of herself. It was sickening, and the thoughts that accompanied it were worse. Margaery truly thought she deserved to be alone - to break alone, to suffer alone, to rebuild alone. Shay hadn't meant to insinuate that that should happen. She wanted to stand by her wife...
The blonde woman watched as the tears manifested in Margaery's eyes. Worse yet, they began to accumulate in Shay's. She could sense the frustration and anger clawing its way towards the surface of Margaery's being. The Admiral took a small step backwards for a moment, fearful of what was coming next. And then, the thoughts that circulated in Margaery's head rang out in her own, and Shay stood her ground.
So, Margaery was bitter over not getting a thank you for "saving" her life? Selene might have ended the curse laid upon Shay, but the goddess of the moon had done little to save her from anything. Shay hadn't asked to be made into a vampire. Shay hadn't asked to be "saved." Shay hadn't asked for any of this. No, instead, it was forced upon her... Her hands were shaking again. She knew the hadn't wanted to leave Margaery's side, to be forced into another segment of her terrible life cycle. But not like this - not when she craved the blood of the innocent and her horrendous, ugly scar was the first thing to greet everyone.
Maybe she was being ungrateful. Her immortal soul had been transformed into an immortal life. Perhaps she should be thankful for the lengths her wife had gone to. But what did she have to be thankful for when her life was crumbling yet again? Maybe Shay was just being a bitch. The words "thank you" were just beginning to form on her lips (alongside an apology) when Margaery spoke.
"How am I invalidating your feelings?" she asked, voice quiet. She hadn't meant that. She, in all honesty, was taken aback by the accusation. Had she really been that cruel to her wife? "I just wanted -" 'you to know how I badly I was hurting.' And then, there was the Genevieve comment.
Shay tensed. If tears hadn't been present before, they were now. The prospect of losing Margaery (while now on the table), was all too real now. Genevieve was nothing to joke about. "No..." she pleaded. The blonde was fighting back her tears and trembling. "Why do you think leaving is always the answer?" Her voice was breathy, and she dragged the heel of her palm over her eyes to rid them of tears. Margaery giving up control and allowing Genevieve access to everything for the rest of eternity was unacceptable. If Margaery did that, Shay would never forgive her.
As much as everything hurt, she could never forgive Margaery for that.
"I just want to go home..."
In an instant, Shay was searching the bond they shared for the meaning behind these words. Fear ignited in her heart because she knew her wife did not mean what she wished it to. When she found the 'home' Margaery was referring to, a single tear rolled down Shay's pale face.
Margaery wasn't referring to the Observatory, which was their new home. Margaery wasn't referring to the Islands, where they met and fell in love. She was not talking about the two places they had spent so much time together. Margaery wasn't talking about the only two places Shay had ever truly felt at home in other than in Margaery's arms. Margaery was talking about her original home, with her mother, her aunts, her uncles... and with her father - the man that her murder her; the man who had caused so much pain and strife.
She visibly flinched at the realization. And then, she became angry and upset. Nik had killed her - has killed her many times - and Margy wanted to go crawling back to him? Just like that? "I-If you want to go be with him, then go. I'm not - I won't stop you since I keep fucking things up - since I cause you so much pain. And don't fucking deny that because I can feel it, my love... Go be with Nik so you never have to be reminded of me again. Go be with him so you never have to look at the scar he gave me. Go be with him so you can finally, finally, get rid of me."
She regretted the words as soon as they flew from her lips; maybe Shay really was worse than Niklaus Mikaelson. Maybe Shay Folie was worse kind of monster there was.
"No, I didn't - I didn't mean - I -" And she wept. She cried at the idea of losing her wife for the rest of her eternity on this earth. She cried at the idea of losing the only person who knew her best. She cried at the idea of losing the person her soul returned for each and every century for one thousand years.
When Margaery's eyes finally landed upon her scar, Shay instinctively covered it with her hands. She was the cause of so much hurt in this moment; she couldn't allow Margaery to be hurt any worse. Shaking fingers hovered over her former mortally-wounding mark. She wished she could take off the necklace-like blemish so that her wife never had to see it again.
"I wish you didn't care so much about me!"
Shay's body straightened out and was no longer partially hunched over from sobbing. Molten amber began to leak into her gaze, slowly, before shielding the brightest blue hue. The tears she cried stopped at once. The pain, anger, and loss she wore on her face exited until there was nothing. A flurry of thoughts screamed in her mind, but the loudest was a simple whisper: Let go.
And so she did, per Margaery's request.
Unfeeling, hazy, yellow eyes watched Margaery coolly as she continued to speak. She knew Margaery's words were false: she had chosen to be with Margaery all those centuries ago. Erlend had chosen to be with Maarit. The balance and all the needs Margaery was hoping to pin on Erlend had already been achieved: Maarit had been the huntress' balance, her most honorable, most wonderful part of her life.
The only choice that hadn't been hers was being turned. Even so, had their roles been reversed, Shay would have done the same.
Shay didn't speak. Why alleviate the pain Margaery was feeling? It didn't matter what her wife is saying anymore - because that was what Margaery wanted. Nothing mattered anymore because Margaery had locked away her feelings... Was this how Margaery felt every time she shut her emotions away? Perhaps Shay could get used to the powerful feeling of feeling nothing.
The woman remained still. She didn't move at the mention of Erlend, but something within her shifted. Erlend. She shut her eyes. Erlend. A sharp pain burned behind her eyes and near the back of her head. Erlend. Something ancient stirred within her, causing her to finally move. Erlend.
Her body contorted for the briefest of seconds. Her edges became sharper. Something about her posture seemed archaic. The way she held herself was vastly different than seconds ago. Erlend had risen, and with it, she shut out Shay completely (against her own will). She pushed Shay so far down that there was perhaps no hope of returning. Shay felt herself being cast aside in favor of Erlend, but maybe it was for the best. Maybe it should have been this way all along.
"My pearl. My sweet pearl. What as the world done to you?" When she speaks, it's as if the gods of old are channeled through her voice. Her tone is like swords crashing together. It speech sounds like waves breaking against cliff sides. Her tone is warm and husky and made of the smoothest liquor. Erlend, the ancient being, the first lifetime, was finally present.
The blonde woman watched as the tears manifested in Margaery's eyes. Worse yet, they began to accumulate in Shay's. She could sense the frustration and anger clawing its way towards the surface of Margaery's being. The Admiral took a small step backwards for a moment, fearful of what was coming next. And then, the thoughts that circulated in Margaery's head rang out in her own, and Shay stood her ground.
So, Margaery was bitter over not getting a thank you for "saving" her life? Selene might have ended the curse laid upon Shay, but the goddess of the moon had done little to save her from anything. Shay hadn't asked to be made into a vampire. Shay hadn't asked to be "saved." Shay hadn't asked for any of this. No, instead, it was forced upon her... Her hands were shaking again. She knew the hadn't wanted to leave Margaery's side, to be forced into another segment of her terrible life cycle. But not like this - not when she craved the blood of the innocent and her horrendous, ugly scar was the first thing to greet everyone.
Maybe she was being ungrateful. Her immortal soul had been transformed into an immortal life. Perhaps she should be thankful for the lengths her wife had gone to. But what did she have to be thankful for when her life was crumbling yet again? Maybe Shay was just being a bitch. The words "thank you" were just beginning to form on her lips (alongside an apology) when Margaery spoke.
"How am I invalidating your feelings?" she asked, voice quiet. She hadn't meant that. She, in all honesty, was taken aback by the accusation. Had she really been that cruel to her wife? "I just wanted -" 'you to know how I badly I was hurting.' And then, there was the Genevieve comment.
Shay tensed. If tears hadn't been present before, they were now. The prospect of losing Margaery (while now on the table), was all too real now. Genevieve was nothing to joke about. "No..." she pleaded. The blonde was fighting back her tears and trembling. "Why do you think leaving is always the answer?" Her voice was breathy, and she dragged the heel of her palm over her eyes to rid them of tears. Margaery giving up control and allowing Genevieve access to everything for the rest of eternity was unacceptable. If Margaery did that, Shay would never forgive her.
As much as everything hurt, she could never forgive Margaery for that.
"I just want to go home..."
In an instant, Shay was searching the bond they shared for the meaning behind these words. Fear ignited in her heart because she knew her wife did not mean what she wished it to. When she found the 'home' Margaery was referring to, a single tear rolled down Shay's pale face.
Margaery wasn't referring to the Observatory, which was their new home. Margaery wasn't referring to the Islands, where they met and fell in love. She was not talking about the two places they had spent so much time together. Margaery wasn't talking about the only two places Shay had ever truly felt at home in other than in Margaery's arms. Margaery was talking about her original home, with her mother, her aunts, her uncles... and with her father - the man that her murder her; the man who had caused so much pain and strife.
She visibly flinched at the realization. And then, she became angry and upset. Nik had killed her - has killed her many times - and Margy wanted to go crawling back to him? Just like that? "I-If you want to go be with him, then go. I'm not - I won't stop you since I keep fucking things up - since I cause you so much pain. And don't fucking deny that because I can feel it, my love... Go be with Nik so you never have to be reminded of me again. Go be with him so you never have to look at the scar he gave me. Go be with him so you can finally, finally, get rid of me."
She regretted the words as soon as they flew from her lips; maybe Shay really was worse than Niklaus Mikaelson. Maybe Shay Folie was worse kind of monster there was.
"No, I didn't - I didn't mean - I -" And she wept. She cried at the idea of losing her wife for the rest of her eternity on this earth. She cried at the idea of losing the only person who knew her best. She cried at the idea of losing the person her soul returned for each and every century for one thousand years.
When Margaery's eyes finally landed upon her scar, Shay instinctively covered it with her hands. She was the cause of so much hurt in this moment; she couldn't allow Margaery to be hurt any worse. Shaking fingers hovered over her former mortally-wounding mark. She wished she could take off the necklace-like blemish so that her wife never had to see it again.
"I wish you didn't care so much about me!"
Shay's body straightened out and was no longer partially hunched over from sobbing. Molten amber began to leak into her gaze, slowly, before shielding the brightest blue hue. The tears she cried stopped at once. The pain, anger, and loss she wore on her face exited until there was nothing. A flurry of thoughts screamed in her mind, but the loudest was a simple whisper: Let go.
And so she did, per Margaery's request.
Unfeeling, hazy, yellow eyes watched Margaery coolly as she continued to speak. She knew Margaery's words were false: she had chosen to be with Margaery all those centuries ago. Erlend had chosen to be with Maarit. The balance and all the needs Margaery was hoping to pin on Erlend had already been achieved: Maarit had been the huntress' balance, her most honorable, most wonderful part of her life.
The only choice that hadn't been hers was being turned. Even so, had their roles been reversed, Shay would have done the same.
Shay didn't speak. Why alleviate the pain Margaery was feeling? It didn't matter what her wife is saying anymore - because that was what Margaery wanted. Nothing mattered anymore because Margaery had locked away her feelings... Was this how Margaery felt every time she shut her emotions away? Perhaps Shay could get used to the powerful feeling of feeling nothing.
The woman remained still. She didn't move at the mention of Erlend, but something within her shifted. Erlend. She shut her eyes. Erlend. A sharp pain burned behind her eyes and near the back of her head. Erlend. Something ancient stirred within her, causing her to finally move. Erlend.
Her body contorted for the briefest of seconds. Her edges became sharper. Something about her posture seemed archaic. The way she held herself was vastly different than seconds ago. Erlend had risen, and with it, she shut out Shay completely (against her own will). She pushed Shay so far down that there was perhaps no hope of returning. Shay felt herself being cast aside in favor of Erlend, but maybe it was for the best. Maybe it should have been this way all along.
"My pearl. My sweet pearl. What as the world done to you?" When she speaks, it's as if the gods of old are channeled through her voice. Her tone is like swords crashing together. It speech sounds like waves breaking against cliff sides. Her tone is warm and husky and made of the smoothest liquor. Erlend, the ancient being, the first lifetime, was finally present.
[b]suiteheart folie-mikaelson . ecliptic admiral . the ascendants . tags