- REWRITING OFFLINE 10/03/25-
☆ 𝗔 𝗥𝗘𝗧𝗘𝗟𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗢𝗙 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗢𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗜𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗦 : what if the child was a teenager/YA throughout the show duration and not at season 5?
After the death of her mother, 17 y/o Deena Salée rummage through her mothe...
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𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐖𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐇𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇. Nothing but pure blackness coated Deena's vision. A vicious pleasure, preying on her vulnerability. To explore that sudden rage washing over her anxiety in a matter of seconds, her mind was set on a mission.
Locating Roma.
After discovering Henry, her creation of will — an idiot at heart, but her idiot that meant a great deal — brutally murdered on display, Deena considered calling her father. Have him deal with the problem at hand like he promised, and would've returned to New Orleans despite his banishment to protect and defend her. But ultimately, stopped herself from dialing his number.
Her family can't cuddle and protect Deena forever — this was her chance at reclaiming her power by proving she's a Mikaelson too. Not an easy target. She refused to let anyone bully her anymore, even if it terrified her.
Too many pep talks about being the bigger person. About putting herself out there while hiding behind her family's shadows. About being something she never was — it's exhausting. Enough was enough.
Quinn was exiting her dorm, music blasting through her earbuds, when she caught Deena pacing down the hallway. Fulfilled to see her best friend, she waved. "Oh, hey! I was just about to head out and grab something to eat. You wanna..." Her smile faltered when passed like she wasn't just standing there speaking to her.
Quinn called to Deena but her voice echoed through the blood thrashing in her ears. She wanted violence. She needed pain.
Revenge.
She didn't bother knocking on Roma's door, forcing it open and breaking the locks. Barely using any strength, she had broken the door completely off, which startled Roma who was studying at her desk.
Papers scattered as Roma jumped to her feet with a gasp, stunned at her door being tossed aside like a weightless pebble. "Deena, what the fuck? How did you — that was my door!" She shouted, finally processing the scene. Her hair was thrown back in a messy bun, dressed in comfy sweats and an oversized hot pink sweater with the university's logo printed bold.
