HAVE YOU EVER NOTICED HOW RARELY BLACK FAMILIES ARE PORTRAYED IN THESE TYPE OF SHOWS? How we rarely see parents, homes, bedrooms of black lead characters while their white counterparts have rich, complicated and defined familial lives?
Have you ever wondered why? I don’t know for sure. Racism is subconscious and pervasive and far reaching. But I’m going to hazard what I feel is a very good guess at the fucked up purpose of that narrative. It is to subtly de-humanise two Black women so as to make their lives worth nothing to EACH OTHER but rather to define their worth to be only as much as it has value to your White heroine and her white hero. And that modus operandi stretches as far back as…
Slavery.
White slavers placed zero regard on familial bonds between their black slaves and were indifferent about separating families because they literally made themselves BELIEVE THAT THERE ARE NO FAMILIAL BONDS BETWEEN BLACK SLAVES. The only relationship that mattered was the one between the slaves and their masters. So families could be torn apart. Children ripped from their mother’s arms, siblings separated because white slavers didn’t want to acknowledge the same bonds of complicated love and loyalty in black families that they had in their own. So that they could still demand services from black slaves without feeling for one moment that they had broken the heart of a mother or a son or a husband or sister.
That’s exactly what TVD through the hands of Julie Plec, Dries and whoever else was responsible for that fuckery wrote for Bonnie and her mother. It’s probably subconscious like the way most of racism in the media is, which makes it even more insidious than an overt display.
Day 2: Cwtsh – a safe place; the space of the cupboard under the
stairs.
Title: Lovely and Lethal is She Who Holds My Heart
Summary: In the wake of Henrik’s death, Klaus seeks shelter in a
cave where he meets the elusive woman who haunts his dreams. (AU/Canon Divergence)
Word Count: 350
A/N: This is the sequel toBeautiful is She Who Wanders in My Dreams. I wanted to write more, but I was crunching for time and was struggling with figuring out how to start it. As such, this is far shorter than I would like, so I might write a second part later once I have more time.
Bright, searing
flashes of lightning streaked across the dark gloomy sky. The earth trembled,
as the rumble of thunder resounded deep through the forest. Rain pattered
harshly into the ground, forming moist muddy puddles in the soil. Tall mighty
oak and pine trees bend to and fro, the aging trees subjugating to powerful
howling winds. The storm raged with cold chaotic power, as nature unleashed its
fury.
Klaus never expected to find her there….
He had hoped to
hide away in the cave to escape the tempest outside and from the ire of his
father. Even after weeks of healing, he still felt the aches and pangs of the
injuries that were exacted upon him, and he rather not give Mikael even more
reason to continue his punishment. His father still had not forgiven him for
his younger brother’s death, and the rest of the family was still mourning. Staying
within Ayanna’s hut had become too stifling, and so Klaus spent most of his
time wandering and seeking haven at the cave, to etch on the walls with his
dagger. Occasionally, Elijah and Rebekah would join him in his solitude, but
they hardly linger for long. Thus, his one constant companion had been the mysterious
woman who haunted his dreams…, Bonnie.
Bonnie, of whom
he once surely had been certain of being a figment of his wildest imagination,
now sat huddled in front of a smoldering bonfire within the cave he had claimed
as his own. She was dripping wet and looking quite similar to how he imagined a
water nymph would. Her long brown hair curled at the ends, slightly frizzed
from the humidity in the air. Her damp gown clung to her curves, outlining the gentle
swell of her breasts and hips. The fabric of the dress appeared a dark reddish-orange
in the weak light of the fire. Large green eyes behold him, piercing his soul.
Lovely and lethal. Klaus did not know if she was truly there or if this was another
lucid fevered dream.
Everything within
him wanted this to be real…wanted her
to be real.
Honestly I don’t think I could write (or attempt to write as noted with my many WIPs) a full fledged Stefonnie fic because I don’t have enough inspiration for this ship. The best I could do would be my Being Human AU idea which was honestly inspired more by Tonnie than Stefonnie.
But I can see myself considering a oneshot. It would probably mostly just be PWP thing but if I were to get into more plot points where I can see them being the most I’d say the summer Stefan was in ripper mode and that’s because I love those dark ships and also that would be kinda a fun time to get back at Elena, of course that won’t be the motives plotwise that’s just what I would be personally taking from them starting something then.
I would either have Bonnie finding Stefan or Klaus taking her along because though we haven’t seen it since season 2, Klaus likes to have a witch nearby. So with Stefan’s humanity gone he’d start with subtle flirtations which would become overt real fast. Bonnie would of course roll her eyes and be reluctant because he has no humanity and she’s convinced he loves Elena. They’d eventually bond over essentially being prisoners and I guess I’d develop things from there.
day 1: Oneirataxia: inability to distinguish between fantasy and reality
*
I.
Sequelae
*
*
His fingers
stick to her skin and wipe away the dry pearls of blood cluster on her wrist.
Pliant like her mind under his molding hands, her skin keeps the print of his
fingers. Bonnie has a distant look, and her body shivers at every caress of his
fingertips. Tears willed away, she is a mere shell of herself. Empty eyes stare
at nothing but a red stain on a Turkish or Persian rag. She can’t tell the
difference, but the red stain is taunting. The sight of that crimson bright
stain provokes a discomfort, which rises from the pit of her stomach.
Bonnie,
you’re not yourself. The whisper has grown loud, and she stares at the
stain on the rug. It starts to expand into sinuous path, which she wants to
follow.
Fingers close in a fist, and she resists the impulse
to pinch her thighs. Bonnie sits straight, and her back muscles strain in
disagreement. The night was harsh on her body, and her mind is a jigsaw puzzle.
She can’t remember much of the last hour, but her body doesn’t need the memories
to express the trauma.
“Haven’t
you taken it too far, brother?” Elijah soft voice fills the room, and his
face crowds Bonnie’s view.
She slowly
blinks until she erases his silhouette from her sight. Bonnie continues to
stare at the red stain on the rag. The red almost disappear in the brown and
magenta threads intricately knitted together, but Bonnie can make the underline
of that stain. The inappropriateness of that stain on the sophisticate rug
terrifies her, and she shivers. Bonnie blinks, and she averts her look. The
stain blurs, and she focuses on the muddy steps leading to the door. Bonnie
draws a shallow breath, and her lungs complain. A rough cough shakes her small
body. She coughs until her lungs rub against each other. She breathes again,
and it is soothing.
I
don’t think she is awake, Elena. The whisper become loud cries, and she
softly smiles.
Red stain and
muddy steps, her eye narrow on the rug. Slowly, her mind rearranges itself to
accommodate reality. The fog clears, but the whispers remain. For a long time,
she finds a refuge in the crevice of her boiling imagination and the red stain
on the rug. Perhaps, it is another hallucination. Her mind folds into multiple
layers, and she pushes away the remaining reality. Bonnie cannot deal with more
than the inappropriate presence of a red stain on a Turkish rug. The air is
warm when it goes down her throat, and it is comforting. Therefore, she
continues to take deep breath.
Bonnie gives
into the desire, and her finger stretches her supple skin. She pinches her
thigh until the pain is undeniable. She is awake, but it no longer means
anything. The pain is present, and the
sensation is real. However, her reality is distorted like a fantasy. She hears steps,
which her eyes can’t follow. She sees things, which her touch can’t feel. Bonnie tenses, and she closes her eyes to will
away the scene. Her fingers sink in her thighs, and she pinches harder.
Hallucination, it is nothing more than a figment of her imagination. Although,
the fingers holding on her arm feels so real. The cold grip has a soothing
effect, and she sighs with relief. She draws a shallow breath, and she tightly
closes her lids. In a few minutes, everything will disappears. Bonnie hopes as
she continues to close her lids tightly.
“Now, now,
we both know better, little witch.” His voice pierces through her attempts
to shut everything out.
He lifts her
head with a grip on her chin, and she gives into his touch. She does not need
to open her eyes to know what will follow. Bonnie opens her eyes to look for
him, but she must have imagined his presence. He never disappears so easily,
and she starts to panic. Closing her eyes never stops anything, and Bonnie knows
it. Bonnie furiously blinks, and she
pinches herself for good measure. Large
palms frame her face, and he drags her visage to the left. Green ultimately
faces light shade of blue. His fingers have the same stickiness than her body,
and the blood has started to dry on the upper corner of his lips. In a ghostly
manner, she feels her limbs move, but Bonnie’s mind only isolate the sensation
of his touch on her shivering skin.
“She
barely moves.” Elijah points out, and he joins Klaus in the crouching
posture. Their faces crowd her vision, but Bonnie focuses on Klaus’ delicate
features. His eyes take a golden shade, and red drops roll along the bridge of
his nose. His cold hands continue to stimulate her senses. He is not fictive,
but Bonnie is unsure of it. She focuses on detail, which her mind can never get
right. The arrogant smirk, which is inappropriate on his boyish feature. Joviality belongs on his face, but he prefers
haughtiness.
“Traumatic
events would do that to any sane mind, but she is not broken.” Klaus
argues while he twists Bonnie’s head to the left.
As compliant as
ever, she follows the motions. The honey in his voice lulls her into a quiet
state, and she continues to track the details, which would anchor her into
reality. His smile takes a new shape in her position, and Bonnie focuses on the
distortion of his visage. She reaches to grab his dusty jacket, and blood sock
the soft material. Her fingers curl around the collar, and Bonnie’s grip is
vicious. She needs a hold onto reality, and she should not let go of him. His
forefinger explores her neck, and he follows the sinuous path of her carotid.
His hand slides on the nape of her head. Hair tangles around his fingers. She sighs,
and she welcomes his caress.
“I surely
believe you went too far. She is catatonic.” Elijah insists, and he
attempts to touch her.
Bonnie flinches
and she is not open to every touch. Elijah moves away from Bonnie when her
magic starts to bubble and turns into a protective shield. His eyes fall on the
witch, and he takes in her appearance. Hair falling in perfect curls, body
hidden behind a silk baby doll, and every inch of her skin drenched in blood.
The magic continues to ooze from every pores of her being. She makes an
enticing image. However, she also appears to be absent.
Jeremy… the cries
surround her, and Bonnie’s mind isolates the sound. It is a hallucination. It is
a moment of psychosis.
“Have I
gone too far, love?” Klaus nonchalantly throws the question to her, and
she takes notices of his words.
However.
Silence is the only use of language, which she can presently muster. She
abruptly frees his collar, and her fingers slide under his loose Henley. Curiously, she explores inches of his skin,
and she settles on the edge of his heart. There is no warmth to Klaus’ skin,
but it sinks to accommodate her fingers. The tips of her finger dip in the
remaining blood around his neck, and she brings her finger to her eyes. She inspects
the blood coating her fingertips, and she intensely stares at her unblemished
palm.
“How long
will it take to break her out of this trance?” Elijah inquires as he eyes Klaus’
witch with undisguised interest.
Once again,
Klaus tilts Bonnie’s head. He continues to assess every inch of her with a
clinical precision. Bonnie’s eyes
dutifully follow him, and her hands continue to probe and pock his body. Elijah
stares at the pair with curiosity, but he does not voice his thoughts.
“I won’t
be able to offer an answer to your question because her state is not of my
doing. This is her masterpiece.” Klaus said with a hint of pride as he points
at the room with open arms.
Bonnie looks
around the room, but she does not see anything worth her interest. Klaus is the
only thing, which matters. Elijah looks at the room, and he never believed
Bonnie Bennett able of such carnage. After all, she has become Klaus’ witch,
and he should not be surprise to what length she went to secure Klaus’ safety. When
properties are concerned, worry is a normal emotion. Klaus continues to inspect
his witch, and he ignores Elijah for a second. Bonnie’s magic continues to burn
out. The Gilbert siblings continue to
decay on his expensive rug.
“She needs
a shower.” The change in topic is abrupt.
Elijah does not
know how to follow, and he stares at Klaus. However, Bonnie strained voice
saves him from an attempt to understand his brother sudden relaxed posture. The
Mikealson brother glances at the witch, and they wait for her to say more.
“Are you
real?” Bonnie questions with a hopeful whisper and her hands return to her
side.
Klaus leans
closer to her, and his nose caresses her cheek. Slowly, he closes the distance
between their lips, and his hot breath cools her feverish skin. He grabs her
hand and intertwines their Fingers.
“I’m here
as you wished me to be.” He passionately presses his lips to her, and Bonnie
returns his kiss in the best of her ability.
It is gauche,
and the feeling is different to the one, which she has come to know. Although, it
is more intense, but lack the scorching eagerness of a fantasy.
“Do you
remember what you did, little witch?” He questions her and Bonnie frowns.
Her memories
are blurry, and she does not know what is real or not. He is real, and she
holds on his body with hope. Klaus no longer inhibits her mind. Her fantasies
are no longer his haven. She stares at her unblemished palms and turns her hand
to face the bloody back. The whispers have turned into scream, and the memories
abruptly disappear. Klaus’ eyes fill her sigh once again. He is real, and the
rest is fictive. Bonnie pinches herself to recover from the hallucination.
“I…”
She hesitates and timidly looks into his eyes.
“I’m not
sure.” Bonnie finishes, and Klaus
softly smiles. He takes hold of Bonnie’s hand and kisses her knuckles.
“Your magic’s been bound by your grandmother,” he informed her coolly. “I suggest you take up your complaints with her.”
It was a blow, as he’d known it would be. The truth sank in, snuffed her rage like a candle. He was almost sorry to see it go. She crumpled to the ground in a small defeated heap of cornflower silk.
Lifting her limp body, he carried her over the threshold.
written for #gothic klonnie week 2k18, day 2: cwtsh
(dedicated to @thefudge who is now officially a Ph.D!!!)
inability to distinguish between fantasy and reality
[bonnie bennett, klaus mikaelson, ≈2,100 words]
Having woken up, Bonnie was relieved when she realized that in reality, she didnʼt have to explain herself to anyone. The foreboding feeling that had wound around her heart and pulled it deep into her stomach faded away, and she was able to breathe freely.
POC of TVD 