Moonblood: A Hale Reborn

🌒 Hope's POV

When Alaric told her she was getting a new roommate, Hope Mikaelson had rolled her eyes. She liked her space. Being alone in the dorm helped her manage her magic, her moods, and her silence. Now she'd have to share that space with some new transfer?

She didn't say much-just nodded and left-but irritation brewed under her skin. She didn't want this.

Still, as the day went on, something in her chest settled. Like a pressure easing.

She felt it the moment the new students stepped onto the school grounds. A shift in the air. Something... warm, familiar, primal. Hope couldn't explain it, but it quieted the constant hum in her veins. She felt grounded. Stable. A strange peace she hadn't known in months.

And she had no idea why.

When she returned to her dorm that evening, Hope pushed the door open, her bag sliding from her shoulder.

And froze.

Nova.

The girl from the woods.

Her.

Hope's heart slammed into her ribs. Her eyes scanned every detail-black shoulder-length hair, sharp green eyes, tension in every inch of her body. Hers. The word echoed in her mind before she could stop it.

"Nova?"

"Hope?"

Nova muttered, "Are you fucking kidding me?"

They stared at each other.

The tension in the air could have snapped steel. Hope's thoughts raced-flashes of skin, gasps in the dark, the feel of Nova's mouth on hers. It was all still there. Too fresh. Too vivid.

Nova recovered first, arms crossed tightly. "So. Roommates."

Hope tried to sound casual. "Looks like it."

"Great."

A beat.

Hope cleared her throat. "You, uh... You look good."

Nova raised an eyebrow. "You look exactly the same."

Another beat.

Hope scratched the back of her neck, trying to push down the awkward flutter in her stomach. "We never did... last names."

Nova hesitated, then offered, "Nova. Nova McCall."

Hope blinked at that. "McCall?"

Nova's jaw tensed. "Adopted name. But it's Nova Hale now. I was born a Hale."

Hope nodded slowly. "Hope Mikaelson."

They both managed a polite, stiff smile.

On the outside, they looked composed. Perfectly calm.

Inside, both were screaming.

_____________________....._____________________

💔 Confession, But Not to Her

The next morning, Nova practically burst into the dorm room Lydia and Malia shared, slamming the door shut behind her.

Lydia sat up from her bed, instantly alert. Malia pulled out an earbud.

Nova was pacing, muttering under her breath, hands shaking, and crying.

"Nova," Lydia said gently, "breathe. What happened?"

"I can't-I-" Nova's voice cracked. She clutched her head, then sank to the floor, back against the wall.

Malia and Lydia both moved to sit with her, one on either side.

"I have to tell you something," Nova said, barely above a whisper. "And you have to promise not to freak out."

Malia blinked. "Is this about the roommate thing? Because the whole school's buzzing."

Nova laughed bitterly. "It's more than that. It's-It's Hope. She's the other parent. Of the baby."

Lydia inhaled sharply. "Oh my God."

"She's intersex," Nova added quickly, words tumbling out. "We hooked up the night we met. Just once... ok one time in the woods and many times, when I went back to her hotel room. I didn't even get her last name. I thought it would just... disappear. And now she's here. And we're roommates."

Malia whistled low. "Damn. That's... a lot."

"You have to tell her," Lydia said softly but firmly.

Nova shook her head violently. "No. No, I can't. What if she wants nothing to do with it? What if she hates me? What if it ruins everything?"

"It already is everything," Lydia replied, her tone calm but insistent. "Keeping it from her won't make it go away."

Nova wrapped her arms around herself, trembling. "I'm not ready to tell her, if I ever tell her. I just-I needed to tell someone. That's all."

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🛎️ Roommates, Not Friends

Nova and Hope tried to settle into life as roommates, but nothing about it was easy. The air between them pulsed with unsaid things-regret, confusion, tension.

Mornings were silent. Evenings were colder.

They'd bump into each other in the small bathroom, their eyes never quite meeting. Shared classes were worse-Hope would glance across the room, only to find Nova already looking away.

When they did speak, it was clipped, passive-aggressive, or too formal to feel natural. Every once in a while, a spark would slip through-sarcasm laced with heat, a comment with too much bite.

They were pretending to be strangers.

But strangers didn't burn when their fingers brushed over the same book in the library.

Strangers didn't memorize each other's routines, moods, and coffee orders. They definitely didn't track each other with their eyes and Hope definitely was sneakily following Nova either.

And strangers didn't lie awake at night thinking about what happened in the woods.

And they definitely didn't remember every second of a night spent together in a hotel room afterward-skin on skin, gasps swallowed by pillows, Nova's fingers gripping Hope like she was afraid to let go. Neither of them talked about that night, but it lived under their skin, in every glance that lingered a little too long and every breath that hitched when the other walked too close.

_____________________....._____________________

👀 Watchful Eyes

Other students began noticing the tension right away. Some whispered they were exes, others theorized they were long-lost enemies or part of some tragic romance. But what everyone agreed on was the thick, palpable tension that followed them through the halls.

It wasn't just students. Teachers raised eyebrows. Staff shared knowing glances. Even a few supernatural faculty members pretended not to notice how Hope and Nova's glares lingered too long, how they orbited each other like magnets.

And like any good supernatural school, it didn't take long for someone to start a betting pool. Not just the students, but staff, teachers, and even the lunch lady were in on it. Odds were scrawled in enchanted notebooks and whispered in the halls-would they kiss, fight, or combust first?

Everyone was watching. Waiting.

And neither girl had a clue.

_____________________....._____________________

💥 Emotional Confrontation

It happened on a Tuesday night.

The air was heavy with thunder, the scent of rain clinging to the windowpanes.

Nova returned to the dorm to find Hope pacing. Her magic was buzzing, crackling at her fingertips.

"Why did you leave?" Hope asked, voice low.

Nova didn't answer. She dropped her bag onto the bed.

"Seriously. I woke up and you were gone. No note. No goodbye. Just gone."

Nova's jaw tensed. "It was one night. We barely knew each other. Hell, we only met hours beforehand."

"That's not what it felt like."

Hope stepped closer. Nova flinched.

"I needed it to be just one night," Nova said. "I needed something that wasn't betrayal or pain or lies."

Hope's voice cracked. "So you used me?"

Nova looked up, eyes sharp. "No. I let myself feel for one fucking night. And I hated myself for it, for being weak, for needing comfort."

Hope's magic flared. Nova's claws twitched. Breathing fast. Too close.

_____________________....._____________________

🔥 Spur-of-the-Moment Intimacy

Their fight reached a boiling point, words flying like sparks, until suddenly they weren't arguing-they were grabbing at each other, mouths crashing, hands desperate. It was rough and heated, but behind every bite and bruise was something unspoken-ache, longing, pain.

Nova shoved Hope against the wall. Hope responded by lifting her, carrying her to the bed, kissing her like she was the only thing left in the world worth feeling.

Clothes hit the floor. Condoms were found this time, Nova made sure. It didn't matter that she was already pregnant. It was about control. About doing something right.

They didn't speak. Just moved.

Flesh to flesh. Breath to breath.

Hope was rougher this time, like she had something to prove. Her hands gripped Nova's hips hard enough to bruise, and Nova welcomed it, met it with gasps and the drag of nails down Hope's back. Their kisses were messy, full of teeth and need, bodies colliding like a storm neither of them knew how to stop.

They didn't take their time.

It was frantic, fast, like they might burn up if they didn't touch enough. Hope drove into her like she needed to bury the months of silence, the distance, the memories of being left behind. Nova arched, panting, pulling Hope closer with legs wrapped tight around her waist, every motion a plea and a punishment.

When they came apart, it was all tangled limbs and shuddering breath, eyes glassy, lips swollen. They barely made it under the covers.

Nova's breath was shaky when she finally said, "This doesn't mean anything."

Hope didn't reply. She stared at the ceiling, chest still rising and falling, heart hammering against her ribs. She wanted to say it did. That it had to.

But she didn't.

Eventually, Nova rolled to her side, facing the wall.

Hope didn't leave.

She pulled the blanket up and lay beside her, silent.

When morning came, they were tangled in each other. Hope's arm wrapped around Nova's waist, her nose buried in dark hair. Nova's hand had somehow found Hope's and held it even in sleep.

Neither moved.

Neither spoke.

But something between them had already shifted.

Nova stirred awake first. She turned slowly, eyes landing on Hope still asleep beside her-hair tousled, lips parted, the faintest crease between her brows. Without thinking, Nova reached out, fingertips brushing lightly over Hope's hand, then up to a stray curl on her cheek.

The tenderness hit her like a punch.

She pulled away instantly, fingers curling into her palm. The softness was dangerous. She didn't trust it. Not after Allison. Not after Scott. Not after everything.

Nova didn't trust love. She believed that love was a weaknes, a soft, vulnerable thing that only ever led to pain.

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