Chapter Text
#Hope POV
20-APRIL-2040, London.
9 years.
Her humanity had been off for 9 years. (Partially off, but still.)
Hope Andrea Mikaelson—the only daughter of Klaus Mikaelson, the Tribrid Terror to her enemies, the Scion of the Mikaelsons to New Orleans, the one and only Tribrid in existence—bit down into the neck so freely offered.
The woman beneath her moaned, her body thrumming as her lover siphoned more magic.
A soft sigh of relief escaped Hope’s lips as the weight of her own magic ebbed.
Her lover’s blood pulsed with Hope’s own magic, thick as wine and sharp as lightning. She swallowed it down greedily, her fangs buried deep in her pulse point. Hope's body thrummed with the mix of her and her lover’s dark magic, a harmony that sang through her veins.
She pulled back slowly, licking a stray drop of blood from her lips. Josie, raven-haired and half-lidded, stared up at her, a knowing smile curving her pouty lips. The air between them was heavy with the scent of blood and arousal.
“Better?” Josie murmured, her fingers brushing lightly along Hope’s cheek, her thumb smearing a faint crimson stain across Hope’s bottom lip. Her voice was husky, but steady—this was nothing new to either of them.
Not after Josie had tied them together… body, blood, and soul—in an attempt to flip Hope’s humanity. Hope had agreed to it, if only to keep Josie alive after Jen had killed her. At first, it was a way to keep Josie alive, but somewhere along the way, the bond changed… to something more..
Hope shouldn’t care—her humanity was off, after all—but Josie… Josie had always pulled her in, ever since Hope had met the girl nearly two decades ago.
Since the bonding, Hope could only feed from Josie, and Josie, now a heretic, could only feed from her. Other blood didn’t hurt, but it didn’t sate the hunger, not the way Josie’s did.
“You taste absolutely sinful, love,” Hope whispered, her breath warm against Josie’s lips. “I think you’re the best midnight snack I’ve ever had.”
If she were to compare, other vampires’ blood felt like battery acid—bitter and acidic. Human blood was like watered-down juice. But Josie’s?
Josie’s blood was divine—crisp and cool with a bite of winter, lightning, and the unmistakable pull of something uniquely hers. It coursed through Hope now, grounding her, mingling with her magic in a way that made it impossible to tell where her magic ended and Josie’s began.
As for Josie? Hope knew it was the same for her.
Blood sharing was considered taboo among vampires, if only because of the complications… But for them? It was inevitable.
Josie was hers, and Hope was Josie’s—humanity or not.
And over the last 9 years, Hope had learned Josie’s body better than her own. She knew the soft curve of her lover’s spine, when Josie needed a comforting touch, when the high of dark magic faded and Josie became quieter, softer. She knew the aftertaste of their hunts—the flush of warmth, the subtle sadness after they’d drained a young soul dry. And now? She could feel the change in Josie’s blood, something darker, something potent.
Josie was waiting—watching Hope with half-lidded, dark-ringed eyes, patient in the way only she could be. Her mind was racing about… whatever plan she had to have for bringing Hope’s humanity back.
And now, after 9 years of feeding from Josie and Josie alone, Hope could taste the difference.
She straddled Josie’s thighs, leaning down until her vivid orange eyes locked onto Josie’s deep brown ones, eyes that held the secrets of the darkest magic in the world, their blood and magic singing between them.
Josie’s hands slid up to Hope’s hips, tracing soft, teasing circles on her bare skin.
“I can feel you thinking,” Hope murmured, lips almost touching Josie’s. “Now, tell me, why does your blood feel more potent tonight? Or should I not ask?”
Josie’s smirk didn’t waver, but something flickered in her gaze—a glint of pride or satisfaction. Her hands tightened on Hope’s hips, fingertips sending electric sparks along Hope’s waist as they traced upward, siphoning magic from Hope’s body gently, until they stopped just below her breasts. “Potent?”
“You taste… darker tonight,” Hope continued, her voice hushed, breath hitching as Josie’s fingers flexed against her ribs. The magic crackled, Josie’s dark magic responding to Hope’s unchecked energy. “I can taste it on my tongue.”
Josie’s smirk deepened, and then she kissed Hope—slow, deep, deliberate. Her tongue slid against Hope's with a deliberate, taunting ease—because she knew what it did to Hope when Josie teased her with her mouth and magic like this. The little minx.
The kiss was an answer in itself, the dark magic in Josie's blood swirling around Hope's tongue like smoke against fire.
When they finally broke apart, Josie’s gaze was alight with wicked amusement. “Why, Hope,” she murmured, voice thick and husky from the siphoning, “always so perceptive.” The purple flecks in her eyes shimmered in the moonlight. “I was working on something before you woke me up for a midnight snack… not that I’m complaining.”
Hope hummed, fingers tracing the curve of Josie’s throat where healed bite marks still pulsed. “Midnight snacks are mandatory, especially when my favorite heretic decides to get creative with dark magic experiments, or whatever you’re calling it.”
Josie’s smirk grew, sinful and slow, setting Hope’s nerves alight. Josie’s fingers tightened slightly on Hope’s hips, pulling Hope flush against her. “A girl needs her hobbies. You have yours, I have mine.”
Hope settled more comfortably against Josie, rolling her hips just enough to press her core against Josie’s. Josie’s breath hitched, just barely. Hope grinned, knowing she had the upper hand for once. “And you can call it a ‘little something’ or a ‘hobby’ all you want, but I know that tone. That look.” She leaned in, lips brushing Josie’s ear. “You’re plotting something, Jo.”
Josie’s laugh was deep and warm, but with an edge that hinted at something dangerous. Her fingers dug into Hope’s hips, pulling her closer. “Can’t a girl be both? Plotting and thoroughly pleased?” Her breath was hot against Hope’s neck as she spoke. “Besides… you like it when I’m plotting, don’t you? Keeps you on your toes.” She punctuated her words with a sharp nip at Hope’s neck, just close enough to break skin, sending a thrill of pain and pleasure straight to Hope’s core.
Hope bit back a moan, arching into Josie’s touch. “I guess it depends on what you're plotting,” she murmured, rocking her hips deliberately against her lover, “Anything to do with my humanity? Because it’s about time for your monthly attempt to switch it on.”
Josie’s dark eyes searched Hope’s face, trying to read her. “It wouldn’t be so bad if I succeeded, you know?” Josie’s voice was soft, almost too soft.
Hope’s smile faded. All playfulness evaporated as ice spread through her veins. “You don’t get to play that game, Josie,” she said coldly, pulling away just enough to put some space between them. “You know exactly what that would mean. What it would do to me.”
Josie’s gaze softened, but it wasn’t enough to dull the intensity in her eyes. “I know what it would mean for you, love. You’d remember everything. You’d feel it all. The loss. Your dad. Your mom…” She hesitated for a moment, “Landon.” But she leaned in closer, breath warm against Hope’s face. “But you’re not really living, Hope. We both know that. You know that all I’ve ever wanted for you is happiness. But this… this isn’t happiness. You’re settling to live as a muted version of yourself. I don’t think that’s what you really want.”
Hope’s grip tightened on Josie’s shoulders, "And what if I do?" she snapped. "What if I like being numb to that pain? To that grief? What if I never want to feel it again? I chose not to drown in the memories and feelings of the people I can never have back, Josie.”
“What if you could have them back?” Josie's words were quiet, but they cut through the darkness like a blade.
Hope froze, a shiver running down her spine as the weight of those words settled in. What if you could have them back?
Her pulse quickened. “What?” she whispered, feeling the ground shift beneath her. “Why the hell would I want to bring anyone back from Peace? I saw them there, Josie. They’re gone. They’re at rest. I won’t drag them back to… to get some twisted version of closure.” Hope met her lover’s gaze, “I choose not to obsess over them. I choose not to mourn them every damn day, because what's the point? You know that’s all my life has ever been: love, lose, grieve, repeat.” She swallowed hard, the weight of it settling in her chest. “That’s why I agreed to bind my soul to yours. So that I wouldn’t lose you.”
“I know.” Josie leaned in, her forehead resting against Hope's, fingers still tangled in Hope's hair. “But that’s not what I meant. What if they didn’t need to die when they did? What if they could still be here with you? Whole. Your family, the way it should’ve been.”
Hope frowned, running that through her head and what it would mean for Josie’s plans to bring her humanity back. Because Josie would never be so callous as to bring someone back from Peace after they’d already reached it, and the only other way was to… a sudden thought chilled her down to her core, her soul— oh no… “Tell me you didn’t.”
Josie didn't answer right away. Her silence spoke volumes, and Hope pulled back to search her dark eyes. They reflected something that sent ice through her veins—not just the usual darkness of her magic, but something deeper, more purposeful. A sadness in her eyes, but also something that could only be described as resolve.
Hope’s heart thudded painfully in her chest. “Tell me you're not messing with time magic.” The words came out hoarse, raw with dread. “You know the price Nature takes for that!”
Josie’s gaze flickered, but she didn’t flinch. “I know what the cost is,” she murmured, each word measured and deliberate. “And I’m happy to pay it.”
Hope shook her head in disbelief, her hands trembling as she gripped Josie’s shoulders. “That’s not a price—it’s damnation, Josie! You don’t just gamble with time magic, you don’t—” Her breath hitched, a surge of panic and fury rising in her chest. “If this doesn’t work, your soul will be torn apart between two timelines, and you will cease to exist. You're risking your soul for what?"
"For you." Josie said the words simply, as if they were the most natural thing in the world.
Hope’s breath hitched.
Josie’s fingers tightened slightly on Hope's shoulders, pulling her closer until their faces were mere inches apart. Josie continued, "For the version of you I fell in love with. The one who laughed freely, who cried when she hurt, who grieved and felt everything. Because that's who you really are, Hope—underneath all the numbness, underneath the walls you’ve built.”
Hope’s jaw tightened, her thoughts spiraling as she stared into Josie’s eyes, the love so intense it almost made her want to give in. But she couldn’t. Not like this. “Josie, transfer the timeline anchor to me,” she demanded, her voice hoarse, the words spilling out before she could stop them. “I can bear it. I’ll take it. I’m the Tribrid.”
And even if the timeline split off and tore her soul apart… well, Hope was a cosmic mistake after all.
She wasn’t meant to exist… and this would just be… righting that balance.
Josie gave her a wry, almost bitter smile. “Sorry, love. Can’t do that.” Her thumbs rubbed slow circles against Hope's shoulders, as if trying to soothe the rigid tension she felt in the Tribrid's muscles. “The anchor’s already bound to me. You've sacrificed so much of yourself for years, and I won't let you do it this time.”
Hope worked her jaw, staring down at her… her Josie. “How long until the spell or whatever ritual you’ve done, activates.”
Josie’s lips curled into a faint, almost sad smile. “Any time now. All I needed was your magic in my system, and my blood in yours.”
Hope’s stomach turned. So the lust and desire Josie had stirred in her earlier wasn’t just for pleasure—it was calculated. “When?” Hope demanded, because if there was time (hah), then maybe she could do something to actually stop it.
“March 21st 2014.” Josie answered, misunderstanding her question, though Hope couldn’t tell if it was on purpose or not. “The day that Lucian Castle first turned into the Beast with the help of the Ancestors. I can’t send you any earlier than that because we both wouldn’t have been born yet, and I don’t want to mess with that, Hope.”
Which, fair. Her birth had been a level of nexus vorti that hadn’t been seen until Lucien Castle’s transformation and Marcel’s subsequent transformation into the Beast. Of course, none of them ever held a candle to her final transformation into a Tribrid.
Josie's fingers stroked Hope's cheek with aching tenderness, her touch feeling like a caress and a farewell all at once. “Save them, Hope. I’ll be here when you return.” Josie breathed out, biting her lip, “And… if by some chance, I’m not, then I want you to know that I love you. Always and Forever.”
Hope’s heart squeezed painfully, but she couldn’t let Josie finish. “Fuck that.” With a sudden, sharp motion, she bit down on her wrist and pressed it to Josie’s lips, pinning her against the couch. Her heart hammered as she focused, pulling on the soulbond between them, tightening it. Anchoring it.
Josie choked, a rasping sound escaping her throat, coughing slightly before swallowing, her fangs growing automatically as dark purple veins flickered beneath her eyes. “Hope–”
Hope didn't know the specifics of the ritual, but she knew the intent behind it—Josie's last desperate attempt to give Hope back everything she'd lost. And maybe that was noble, maybe that was romantic, but Hope wasn't going to let her go that easily. “No.” Hope cut her off, panic and fury blending together in her words. “I won’t lose you. Not now, not ever.”
Hope didn’t stop. She couldn’t. She kept feeding Josie, power and magic pouring into her, pouring through their bond.
And Josie... Josie didn't fight. She let Hope hold her down, drinking from her wrist as her fingers tightened in the fabric of Hope's shirt, sharing the weight of the anchor with Hope, letting Hope's essence surge into her own, their combined power spiraling and twisting together.
Josie’s body trembled, but it wasn’t fear—it was the magic. The air around them warped, reality bending as Josie accepted more than she’d ever been meant to bear. Her pupils dilated, her breath shallow, the dark magic clawing through her veins, as it intertwined with Hope’s own molten gold pulses.
“Hope—” Josie gasped, but Hope’s lips crushed against hers before she could say another word.
The kiss was anything but gentle. It was raw, desperate, claiming, teeth scraping against lips, Hope’s tongue tangling with her soulmate’s in a kiss that tasted like blood and magic and the end of the world.
Archaic magic wrapped around them both, ancient power thrumming through the air as the spell Josie had been preparing activated. The timeline anchor flickered, but it didn't snap into place as it should have—Hope's presence too strong, her power too intertwined with Josie's to allow the spell to complete its work without her consent.
Hope pushed her own will into the spell/ritual, binding herself to Josie's timeline anchor as well, her power acting as a counterweight to the dark magic that threatened to tear Josie's soul apart. The Nexus Vorti of March 21st 2014 glowed brighter, more unstable as both their essences tried to claim the same timeline simultaneously.
Josie's body convulsed against Hope's, dark magic surging through her veins in visible tendrils that burned and seared, the pain etched across her face in real time. The Ancestors, the stubborn bitches they were, rallied against her and Josie’s magic with all of their might that it would have been hard to arrive in one piece.
Fine, Hope immediately switched the target to the next most powerful Nexus Vorti there ever was. Her birth.
The time magic accepted the new intent, latching onto the stronger, more stable power source. Hope's own essence wrapped around Josie like armor, their souls braiding together even as the timeline shifted around them.
The spell/ritual automatically targeted as close a date to May 2nd 2012, as it could, as the magic unfurled.
Hope felt a swooping feeling in her stomach, as she grabbed Josie tightly, before everything went black.
////
Hope landed hard, rolling across the damp forest floor with Josie still cradled protectively in her arms. Twigs and dried leaves crunched beneath them, earthy aromas mingling with Josie's coppery blood and ozone from the time magic.
Time rippled around them like a distorted reflection in still water.
Her arms tightened around her lover automatically, her soulbond with Josie let her know that she was okay, but knocked out cold and drained beyond all reason. So was Hope.
Damn, she’d never felt this tired in a… long while.
Hope pulled both of them up, glancing around… and she was in a forest.
Great.
There was something familiar—Hope sniffed the air. Werewolf power.
Her blood knew this land, just as well as she knew her own magic/wolf/vampire; Crescent Land.
The Bayou, New Orleans.
Great… if the spell brought her to the correct time, then Hope had just been born.
Which meant that the Guerreras, Esther, Mikael, Dahlia, and oh so many enemies she’d dreamed of killing.
And she would… y’know, once she could get her legs to start cooperating.