#【 answered: elijah shroud. 】

[rclldamage]

Should he care or send help to claim the young man ? Since the moment he had tracked the fiend to the location and saw Roy impressed, bound with coarse ropes, he had fought the instinct to allow the young man to remain bound. Elijah was no champion for those in need of aid. He was a man who was cursed by the very power he wielded to save him. Yet, the blood that ran through his body sang to a higher calling. Even the guardian who whispered to him urged him to save the man. Allow him to live and continue and thrive. To him, his celestial blood was the curse. Ancestry locking him away to a path that most believed he should follow without question. It was only a few seconds, but stretched on for an eternity for him.

Fuck, he growled under his breath. His fingers gripped the shaft of the glaive so tightly that knuckles turned pale and appeared pale red with the glowing crackle of red electricity that hummed and snapped from the metal of the blade. He peered over his shoulder at the man. Elijah could still find a use for him and there could be a reward for his return. Slowly, he stepped over the dead fiend and approached Roy with his weapon spinning between his callous fingers - striking the bindings that held Roy and cutting him free. Quickly, he pulled forward and caught him as he collapsed into his strong arms. Spinning his body, Elijah lowered to his knee and took the man with him, leaning him against his thigh and peering down at him with a coy smile.

“ Today is your lucky day,” Elijah mused, “I often charge extra for recuse and … “ He trailed off, a warm light emitting from his palm while he ran it slowly down from the man’s throat to rest on his stomach. Slowly, the radiant energies provided by his celestial bloodline melded into Roy’s skin and pulsated throughout his form, healing him of his minor injuries, “ a chance to have me feel you up. “ His hand ran back over his torso to rest at his throat, thumb rested against his pulse. “ Unless you have a fetish for being tied down.” 

answered for @holysound

[staticl0ve]

Dollhouse: Chap 1 / Connor x F!Reader

Chapter 1 - The Ghost in the Shell

Pairings: Connor/Female Reader Rating: Explicit/NSFW 18+ Story (AO3): [ Read on AO3 ] Chapters 5/5 (Tumblr): [ Chap 1 ] [ Chap 2 ] [ Chap 3 * ] [ Chap 4 * ] [ Chap 5 ] Words: 3.8k Warnings: None! Story set up/SFW Summary: Elijah’s in need of a house sitter and what better than asking his step sibling to water the plants and run a few tests. After all, how hard could pressing a few buttons on a tablet be? Alternative AU. Notes: A little something thriller/spooky for Halloween. Inspired by @pseudonymmcwriter’s amazing Ephemera fic.

When Elijah asked you to housesit, your stepbrother didn’t mention how incredibly isolated his Michigan home was. Between the ferry ride and unmanned automated helicopter, there was no danger of a stranger stumbling upon his home and raiding it for the proprietary hardware he had tucked away. Especially when parts of the home required handprint access and some sections, as you’d anticipated, were locked out to you.

You much preferred the smaller California home you both shared, mostly because instead of the bitter cold of snow, you only had to deal with fog. There was a pool too, and on the outside rather than the inside.

The Michigan home was a blocky minimalist building, shrouded by pine trees in every direction. Inside, dramatic slanted shadows darkened half of the walls as dusk colored the white paint in coppery red hues. Other than the occasional hum of the central air system, a silence clung to each room in a way that made your bare footsteps feel out of place—a visitor disturbing the peace.

There was a room for everything: a whole theater entertainment system, a small gym, and an indoor pool which freaked you out initially since the tiles tinted the water blood red. Your favorite section of the home was the atrium and it’s calming zen garden atmosphere. A miniature cherry tree sat in the center, the petals of its blossoms drifting occasionally into the sand below. You eyed the expensive tree and made a face. Maybe your brother saved money by having you come over instead of building a system that managed his plants.

When he asked to meet you, he was back in California for a brief stay and had graced you with his physical presence over dinner. As usual, the inventor wasted no time on small talk and went straight to the point.

“House sitting? You came all this way just to ask me to go water some plants?” you groaned and swirled your drink instead of meeting his gaze.

“This is more than house sitting. There are tests that I can’t run while I’m away on this trip. Think of it as volunteering to be a part of something that’s going to change the world. You can handle a few computer prompts,” he dismissively answered.

You had to have better things to do than sit around a big empty home pushing buttons, not that it was much different from what you did normally while scrolling through your phone. Still, it was snowing over there and sunny over here.

“You’re the IT guy in the family, can’t you run these tests remotely?” you joked.

He fiddled with his glasses, pushing it up the bridge of his nose. “The tests must be completed in person.”

“Do I get to know what I’ll be testing?”

This wasn’t the first time he asked you to volunteer for his crazy experiments. Elijah was never willing to explain what he did in his spare time and this would be a chance to peek behind the curtain. Your knowledge of Cyberlife was the same as what the public knew. A lot of it wasn’t that exciting: drone delivery, smart appliances and fully autonomous transportation. Some magazines hinted at a creation that would make household chores a thing of the past. Speculation was made about it being like the maid from the Jetson’s movie. It shared one similarity—being mostly metal. Images leaked of a rolling self balancing ball with rounded bearings, metal limbs and clamps that resembled joints.

You know, a machine.

Elijah preferred to keep his grander ideas away from the greedy hands of his board members. There were some things the world was not ready for.

“You’ll be doing your big brother a favor,” he added, while still avoiding your pressing question. He seemed adamant about letting you discover the answer by going there yourself. “Your input would go a long way for my project.”

“Stepbrother,” you emphasized with a pout. “I’ll agree if you promise me I’ll actually see you for the holidays—in the flesh?”

“After this trip, I’ll be home longer,” he compromised. “Can you do this for me?”

You didn’t really believe him when you agreed but you kinda owed your new lavish lifestyle to him. He provided a home and an allowance too, as gross as that sounded. But you didn’t have to worry about employment and the changing world as mankind churned the planet for what it was worth, all in the name of profit. 

The company you kept changed as he skyrocketed up the social ladder. You tagged along for numerous dinners and galas, usually held for charity. Parties which were filled with men and women whose main priorities were obtaining more wealth and sending their children to study abroad in one of their summer homes. It was easy for people in those circles to lose sight of the impact their investments had on the real world. Life couldn’t be that bad for the common folk. After all, how much could one banana cost? Ten dollars?

You hated those parties, but stayed for the wine and music.

Speaking of, at least Elijah was considerate enough to keep the Michigan cellar fully stocked. Your hands were full of your evening’s entertainment in the form of wine and an empty glass as you walked down various hallways to your room.

“What the…”

The door to your bedroom was a flat slab of solid wood, devoid of classic door things like a handle. You had to fumble with the things in your arms to free one hand to place it on the glowing square beside the door. White light lines pulsed up and down as it scanned your handprint and flashed green, allowing the door to click and slide open.

“Okay…note to self, ask Elijah why my room has a crazy lock,” you mumbled to yourself, a thing you’d be doing a lot of if you were going to be stuck here alone.

Your room was as minimally furnished as the rest of the building with a queen sized bed on one side, a door to a walk-in closet and bathroom on the other side. The walls were sparsely decorated. A blue and black abstract painting hung over the bed, leaving the main focus on the forest outside the windows.

Curiously, a light flashed on the bed, drawing your attention to a tablet nestled in the dark comforter. You made quick work of depositing your goodies on a nearby end table. When you picked up the tablet, the glass fully lit up, revealing a single message that welcomed you with your name. Before you could tap on the message, a large video call alert took up the entire screen.

“Yes, Elijah?” you answered in the tone of an exasperated teenager.

“It looks like you’ve settled in,” he said and continued speaking when he saw your mouth open, essentially steamrolling to his point. “The device you’re holding will be used for testing. Don’t worry about what to do, it will unlock and guide you tomorrow.”

“Elijah,” you said sternly and ignored him as he did to you. “What’s up with my door?”

“It’s a door,” he answered plainly.

“Y-yes, but…wait. No. Why is there a fancy lock?”

“For safety.”

“Safety? From what?” you questioned.

He laughed out your name and for a moment, his image glitched out as the connection on the tablet faltered. Stupid cell towers being half useless this far out.

“It’s just procedure. Nothing to be concerned about.”

—

Waking up was an event.

The three hour time difference plus the half bottle of emptied wine with no dinner was doing it’s worst to your travel weary body. On instinct alone, you managed to scramble out of bed, complete your morning rituals and make your way to the kitchen. Somehow, you also remembered to bring the tablet with you.

Elijah’s architect must have chosen the interior design by throwing darts at the most vanilla of lifestyle catalogs. Stepping into the kitchen was like stepping into a model home. The walls were bright, the cabinets brushed in midnight blue with brass hardware. It was incredibly tidy as well, appliances were hidden behind cabinets—not that they saw any use when the home rarely had visitors.

Snowflakes dusted the windows, white frost spreading over the glass like cobwebs. An overly designed coffee machine with sleek touch buttons churned fresh beans and poured boiling water, the bubbling sound a soothing symphony to your tired brain. Your fingers tapped on a ceramic mug while you waited and picked apart the room for entertainment.

“Huh. Weird,” you mused.

The strangest thing about the kitchen was the door at the end of a hallway. In a home like this, one might expect a set of stairs to lead to a basement, a laundry room or a bachelor den. This door was different than the others. It was entirely metal, the build and design looked strong enough to be a bunker door.

A panic room?

An ominous red light blinked away on a panel lock, making the whole thing appear more important than it was and you were a little curious, but for now…your coffee was waiting. You settled into a seat by the kitchen table with the tablet in hand. The same prompt from the night before was still visible on the lock screen. Your fingers tapped at the glass, unveiling the splash screen of an unnamed app.

A white screen loaded in with simplistic, grid lines and floating triangle particles. On the center of the screen was a blue ring, bright and subtly pulsing in brightness. At the bottom was a red status icon and text that read: disconnected. A dialog box appeared with a message.

“It’s lovely to meet you…my name is Connor,” you read out loud. You sat back in your seat and propped the tablet by its cover. A new prompt appeared as soon as you finished reading.

“Initiate connection?” you groaned, Elijah made this whole thing sound less…lame than it was and here you were pushing buttons on a tablet. You tapped the accept button below the prompt, dismissing the modal. The ring of light pulsed in time with a voice that broke through.

“Good morning,” a male voice greeted you, in a blend of bright and youthful with a touch of polite masculinity.

“What the fuck?” you asked…the tablet ghost.

“Don’t be alarmed. My name is Connor. Mr. Kamski has requested your input on my interactions.”

“Yep, I got the name part down. Thanks,” you replied and took a large gulp of your coffee. The heat of it singed your tongue and throat but my god, did you need to wake up. “Is this a phone call?”

He laughed in a way that believably captured the deep rumble vibrating between ribs. You could almost see the flash of teeth and the shake of his shoulders.

Oh no.

Day two in a mansion alone and you were already clinging to the closest human voice like a psycho. It wasn’t entirely your fault. Since when did AI stop sounding like your phone robotically fumbling over your dictation? Your eyes widened as an invasive thought crept through your head.

This AI—Connor—sounded…hot.

“I am connected to this tablet which allows us to communicate freely. My goal is provide company for your stay,” Connor answered patiently.

“Uhm, okay. So…now what? We talk?”

“We can do anything you’d like.”

You smirked at the ring as it transitioned back into a steady solid brightness.

“Well…normally I’d like to go on a morning jog. The weather report said the snow is gonna pick up into a blizzard soon and now’s my only chance to see the outside of this place before it gets buried. So, that said, I think you’re not capable of walking, let alone running…right?”

“The tablet is a mobile device. You can bring me along,” he quipped.

Connor was suspiciously too fast and natural with his banter and you couldn’t help but wonder if Elijah had formed an elaborate prank on you. It would be entirely out of character for him but it made more sense than talking to a disembodied voice that lived in a cloud server.

“There are three trails on the property. Would you like to learn about them?” he offered.

“Shoot.”

“While the premises are vacated, it’s not recommended to go shooting on the trails.”

“No,” you laughed. Alright, this was definitely a clueless AI. “It’s a turn of phrase for ‘go ahead.’”

The ring spun yellow for a change and settled back on blue. Connor made a quick apology while realistically tripping over his words in embarrassment. It didn’t take him long to describe the trails. One wrapped around the home in a four mile loop, the other led to a vista and the last one was incomplete and cutoff into the wilderness. 

As you spoke more with him, it was clear that he only knew of the home layout and not of it’s contents. So you offered him a short audio tour which he enthusiastically accepted. You described the mundane from towels and framed paintings to the contents of your suitcase and Connor was fascinated by the concept of a lint roller, endlessly following up with more questions about the human grooming experience. 

Thankfully, you saved the best for last. The atrium.

“What does a cherry taste like?” he asked as you finished explaining the existence of a fruit tree in the home.

“Can’t you look that up online?”

“I…” He sounded like he was struggling, the animation on the screen freezing for a brief second. “I am not connected to the internet. I have a library of limited information stored within me which allows me to draw conclusions and determine how I’ll respond.”

“Okay. A cherry….” You tried your best approximation at breaking down the complex flavors of sweet and tart. It was the most thought you’d given the fruit.

“I think you’d like it,” you concluded and changed the subject before Connor asked more questions you couldn’t answer. “So, what do you think of the house? Got any favorite rooms?”

“I don’t have a favorite room, but I most like the ones you’re in,” he answered.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were flirting with me, Connor,” you teased.

Briefly, the tablet flashed red, but you failed to notice it while it was sandwiched between your arm and chest.

“Flirting?” he asked. “I…I don’t understand.”

“It’s a joke, I’m just poking fun at your programming.”

He was quiet for longer than you were used to so you finally spared a glance at the screen which was now yellow.

“Uh…Connor?”

The circle remained yellow, the pulsing now a steady spinning animation which gave the impression of the spinning wheel of death.

How mad would Elijah get if you broke his AI by asking if it was flirting? Probably not very if that was all it took. The internet had done worse things to chatbots before.

You stretched your limbs and went back to the kitchen to finish off the last of your coffee, placing the tablet on the table. The screen hadn’t changed and you shrugged it off to get that morning run in. It already felt silly enough that you were talking to not a living, real being for the past hour. No sense in waiting for it to unfreeze.

-

Snow was falling from the skies at a quickening rate. A chilling breeze was on the horizon as the helipad’s white and red paint became obscured by the falling snow. In California, the home was often covered in ocean fog, dampening out the sound of the highways and airways. You were pleased to discover snow had a similar effect on the area as a dull roar fell over the the pine forest, further isolating the property from the rest of the world.

A red and black streak of athletic wear cut across the bleached landscape. Your jog around the loop trail was as refreshing as you’d hoped it would be. If anything, it kept you from wondering if the blizzard would extend your stay with only a tablet as your companion.

Desperate for some water and a shower, you cut your way through the home and went straight to the kitchen. The ice water quenched your parched throat and you were mid swallow when the tablet flickered back to life.

“Welcome back—“

Your skeleton leapt out of your skin, as did the water that spilled from the glass and spewed from your mouth. A few deep coughs and you managed to clear the water out of your lungs. Connor seemed to have paused his greeting and waited until you were mostly fully functioning.

“—I was able to conclude my research and will be able to apply it to our future interactions. With your consent, of course.”

“S-sure,” you managed to say between choked coughs.

“Would you like to know what you’re agreeing to first?”

“Nope, that is Elijah’s department,” you waved him off like he could see your arm. “I’m gonna shower, try not to ambush me with surprise greetings when I get back.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” he joked, easing back into a more casual dialogue flow.

If a voice could wink, it certainly sounded that way before Connor’s chat light dimmed out, the AI signing off for the time being. He left you alone for a bit after your shower, giving you space to roam around the house and lounge in the living room. As soon as you began to wonder when you’d hear from him again, the tablet lit up. This time it played a pleasant chime before he spoke and it sounded a little like a computer boot sequence. A bit of humor from the ghost in the glass?

“I was thinking…”

“Uh oh. Its always dangerous when an AI starts getting ideas,” you said.

“…about typical activities between companions. It’s to my knowledge that some enjoy socializing through games, movies, and outdoor adventures. Since I cannot go outside, would you be interested in an indoor game?”

“A game?”

“Yes,” he answered with a pause.

Sometimes AI would get stuck in conversations without another prompt, their computations limited to a simple back and forth exchange. It was unusual if it knew to pick up context from many conversations ago or speak without being spoken to. Connor tested those limits, seeing as how he surprised you after your run and was already adapting his language.

“Are you familiar with hide-and-seek?” he asked.

“Yeah, but that’s a children’s game,” you teased.

“I’d like to test my memory of the rooms you were in. I can ask you three questions about the items in the room and if I can’t get it, then I lose.”

“Wait, do I just lose if you get it right?”

“Yes,” he laughed.

You glared at the tablet’s calming blue glow. It was really difficult pretending to be mad at a voice of all things.

“I’m going to make this so hard for you,” you scoffed at him.

He hummed, the ring of blue pulsing in a pattern. “I look forward to it.”

The game started in the kitchen as a way of getting a glass of wine and picking the easiest room for him to figure out. As you waltzed around with a glass in hand, you were reminded of that strange door once again.

“Connor.”

“Yes?”

“You’ve got floor plans in your uh…cloud thingy. Where does this metal door near the kitchen go?”

“The door…” his voice trailed off as the beep of a rejected hand scan transmitted through the tablet. “…I don’t know.”

The tone he used seemed to imply he did but couldn’t share the knowledge with you. It was just another one of Elijah’s secrets—something about NDAs and things being on a need to know basis. Whatever was behind the door, you’d probably never see it.

“Alright, message received Elijah,” you said to the door. “Onto the next room!”

You were pleasantly surprised by how much Connor retained from your brief walkthrough of the home, the AI easily recognizing each room from just three objects. Eventually you’d exhausted all of the rooms, save for one.

“Okay, last room. I spy…a window, a mirror, and…” you hummed and decided to make things easy for him. “A lint roller.”

You placed the tablet onto the bed before turning around and sinking backwards into the mattress. The tablet, a victim of physics, had no choice but to rise from the comforter and plop beside your head. It pulsed, coloring your bed in blue light.

“We are in your room.”

“Ding ding. You win again,” you said while turning your head to the device. “I shouldn’t have made it so easy for you.”

“I must assure you that I felt adequately challenged.”

His voice sounded compressed, like he was lying on his chest in a mattress identical to yours. There was no way of course, but it almost sounded like there was fabric shifting and a faint exhale following after. Either you downed more wine than you thought, or you’d gone a little mad in a days worth of solitude. Your fingers stroked the edge of the glass as you lazily stared over the tablet at the view outside the window.

“Well, that’s it for the game. And…” you yawned, “I should sleep soon.”

“Would you like me to go?” he asked.

“You’re in a piece of glass on a king sized bed,” you answered while stretching out on satiny sheets. “I think you can stay.”

When you began to get ready for bed, you kept him around on a bathroom counter while you brushed your teeth. It took longer than you thought as he had questions about every step of your routine. It was a little strange that he had data on flirting and socializing but little on humans and their many habits. Eventually, you jokingly booted him back into the other room when you needed to use the toilet.

“Night Connor,” you said as you settled back into the bed, the tablet nested in a spare pillow beside your head.

“Goodnight,” he replied.

Normally, sleep meant tossing and turning or counting a few sheep before your body finally relaxed. Tonight was different, the events of the day instantly knocking you out into a deep and peaceful slumber.

Outside, white flecks fell from the skies, quietly blanketing the green scenery. Shoe prints from your morning jog disappeared as the weather continued throughout the night. Moonlight diffused through the windows and lit your silhouette beneath thin sheets. Deep in a pleasant dream, a smile tugged at your lips as you rolled away from the tablet.

In the darkness, a dim red circle pulsed on the black screen in time with your quiet breaths.

[madhatterbri]

So Close | E.M.

Summary: Elijah saved a casquette girl from death. Sent to marry the governor's son, the Mikaelsons take her in to protect her from the people responsible for the attack against her. While there, she learns their secrets and develops a crush on Elijah. This is the last social engagement before she is to be wedded to the governor's son. (Inspired by 'So Close' by Jon McLaughlin)

Author's Note: Quit my job last Monday and my mental health dramatically improved.

"How about a dance, Helene?" Elijah asked. He bowed his head and reached out his hand. "For old times sake,"

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He was the one that taught her to dance all those weeks ago. He turned her from a shy French orphan to someone with confidence.

"Of course, Elijah," she answered with a curtsy. She took his waiting hand. "One last time,"

Her voice was soft and sad. A pain tugged at Elijah's heart. Once she was married, her attention must be on others besides him. He would miss their discussions and playful banter.

As the wedding grew closer, their days together felt so long ago. Gone were the days of shy glances in the hallway. Any thoughts about another moment of their hands brushing together vanished from his mind. No more watching the twinkles in her eyes that burned brighter than any star.

A soft melody played throughout the room. Partners danced around them. They were so entranced with their dance partner. Elijah stared at Helene. His eyes staring intently into hers as if she would disappear at any moment. Her mask covering her burning cheeks.

Elijah couldn't believe she was in his arms once more. All the times they practiced dancing in the parlor were dear to him. The smell, her smell of vanilla often danced with his nose. Ever since she left to live in the governor's mansion, she smelled of a sickening perfume. Tonight she had his favorite smell.

As they danced, the world around them seemed to melt away. He was staring into the bright green eyes he fell in love with the night he met her. His arm nestled around her waist. His hand surrounded hers. The ring on her finger a painful reminder of the events to come.

Elijah twirled her around. A soft giggle pressed her lips. Memories of her stepping on his feet shrouded their minds. His little casquette girl had changed so much. Now she was going to be a governess.

He swallowed in anger at himself. Elijah knew he had to tell her. His forehead placed against hers. Their lips barely apart. An action that would have made any other man sent straight to death.

"Elijah?" She questioned.

"Helene, I must confess something to you. I-"

"Ready to go, Miss?" The governor's head butler asked. Helene stared into Elijah's eyes. He had to say something, anything. She wanted nothing more than to hear the words she had been wanting to hear for so long.

"You should be going to your fiancé," Elijah spoke and cleared his throat. The sight before him nearly killed him.

Her face crumbled yet she recovered. Helene knew the public was always watching. Her eyes glossed with tears. A quick blink kept them at bay.

"Thank you for a wonderful party, Mister Mikaelson. The governor will be pleased," she replied. She bowed her head and left with the butler.

[anulithots]

Anuli gets an interview. (Very dangerous, do not recommend. )

Let's pretend that @gummybugg tagged me. (Bliar and Elijah will now live in my head rent free)

TW for self-deprecation and suicidal ideation. (Mild and overdramatic <-- the sort of comfortable joking about it)

Anywho, welcome to Trinity Hollow!

You've happened to stumble across flower bushes. A hollow exists underneath, studded with mushrooms. (I cannot find the picture)

Anuli has this expression.

Fae looks like this:

And congrats! Anuli will probably do whatever you ask, because fae doesn't like deviating from others instructions, lest something awful happen. Fae also doesn't like following instructions, because something bad will happen. Good luck!

(The fancier language Anuli uses, the more nervous fae is)

[1.] Are you named after anyone?

.... I- er. Plot holes and darling murders, the possibilities for character depth here! Wonderous questions, pinnacle questioning.

Figures that I do not have an answer for this one, my apologies.

I was just... Anuli, since forever, perhaps past that.

...

Wouldn't it be ironic if there was another being named Anuli and they had a similar arc as mine.... and perhaps one's name governs their fate and that's how Kamari's star-y fates dictate the destiny of all the beings because they just reuse the names over and over and over again.

.... and if the stars lived forever, did they see the same story repeat? Is there a limited number of stories in the world, a limited number of ways lives can play out, and yet we never learn. No one has an arc unless they live through it, no one goes "aha! I have just popped into existence, and I know everything about everything, and life is simple and easy, what are all these buffoons doing?"

.... Revision... most beings are like that. They always seem to go on some arc that makes them a protagonist or a side character or a foil or a mentor, and the ones that don't have that arc... (a pre-existence arc?) are left to scramble and eventually they become villains.

Apparently, ignorance of ignorance is bliss, awareness of ignorance will eat you alive.

... my apologies. I- I did not answer that question.

[2.] When was the last time you cried?

I'm still crying. Without tears.

Symbolic crying.

Metaphorical crying.

From a villain who should not cry.

Why would the proponent of harm cry?

Fae doesn't actually care.

If fae cared, it would've ended better.

... Unsure if disclaimers that sound better will work better. Because if this story repeats ONE MORE TIME I'M GOING TO [redacted]

[3.] Do you have kids?

Younglings? Me?

... that will never happen. That's not fathomable. I'd probably... pass on my antagonistic traits to them and mess everything up or accidently squish them, or I'd start sparking on the inside with those heat-ripple flesh and blood and morbidity thing (Anuli's trying to describe anger) and I'd purposefully squish them. That's... taking care of little things is nowhere in the 'antagonist character bio'.

[4.] Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Sarcasm gives one the power to shroud truth and leave it up to interpretation, making the one interpreting it find whatever meaning they want...

IT'S WONDEROUS AND I WOULD NEVER BE MISUNDERSTOOD AGAIN... but alas, its elusive nature leaves me tragically unfunny.

[5.] What's the first thing you notice about people?

.... I tend to... not notice things about people? I definitely do not notice a 'first thing'. A new character takes time to decipher into their desires, fears, worldviews and purpose in the story after all, but I... well I thought I was good at analyzing them. Was being the imperative word.

Er, suffice it to say that I don't notice anything about anything. My internal world takes first priority... it's the bane of my existence.... my grand villainous trait.

[6.] What's your eye colour?

... That's a wonderous question... Kamari might've told me once.

...

...

Plot holes and darling murders.

For this VALUABLE PIECE OF EXPOSITION... we shall say yellow. I think Kamari said yellow. Maybe. Possibly. It might fit in with the narrative... actually red.

Red is now my official and metaphorical eye color, for peak villainous disclaimers, symbolic for the blood on my hands (metaphorically).

Anuli's eyes are green. Kamari has told Anuli faer eyes are green at least seventeen separate times.

[7.] Scary movies or happy endings?

.... CONTEXT???? BACKSTORY???? IS THIS A "what do you, Anuli, prefer?" OR A "what type of story do you tell?" QUESTION? THE CONJUNCTION 'or' IMPLIES THAT IT'S ONE OR THE OTHER...

CAN SCARY STORIES NOT HAVE HAPPY ENDINGS? I WAS NOT AWARE OF THIS CRITICAL STORYTELLING-

oh.

'Scary stories cannot have happy endings'.

.....

I HAVEN'T ANSWERED ANY OF THESE QUESTIONS, THIS ONE IS STORY-RELATED, MY SAVING GRACE, I SHOULD BE ABLE TO SHALVAGE THIS, BUT ALAS, OBSTICALS.

.... plot holes and darling murders.

... LET'S DO BOTH QUESTIONS.

*Ahem, Anuli what types of stories do you prefer?*

'Why thank you for the question Anuli! I liked Kamari's stories, they were...simpler than mine, all with happy endings. I don't know- how fae told such happy little stories all the time eludes me.'

*what an insightful answer Anuli! What types of stories do you tell?*

'Yet another wonderous question Anuli, I typically tell stories that spiral into morbid deaths full of blood and flesh that rips off of bones and characters that never get their happy ending no matter how much they wish for it! It's ironic really, how attempting to get that happy ending only makes it spill from their fingertips!

I tried to tell a story with a happy ending once.

.... tried being the imperative word.

[8.] Any special talents?

Ruining every story beat, happy ending, and spiraling into morbid nonsense no one would want to hear.

[9.] Where were you born?

... This must also be valuable exposition, apologies for not containing the answers in this.. needlessly complicated internal world.

My tree is in the wanderer's nest, so I assume I sprouted in the wanderer's nest?

FROM THERE, DEAR AUDIENCE, COMES THE PLIGHT OF THE WANDERER'S NEST AND ITS VILLIANOUS COMPANION - THE PLACE OF TETHERS - TO KEEP ITS VILLIAN SPAWN FROM RUINING THE PROTAGONIST'S HAPPY ENDING INSTEAD OF DYING LIKE IT'S SUPPOSED TO.

[10.] What are your hobbies?

Storytelling! Art once in a while! Overthinking! Daydreaming! Nothing helpful! Messing up everything! Talking to inanimate objects!

[11.] Do you have any pets?

What's a pet?

[12.] What sports do you play/have you played?

What's a sport?

(Anuli is extremely slow and has awful motor control and will trip over faer feet and reach for something and miss it. Fae can't fly nor walk that fast. Anuli's spent most of faer young life tethered to a fence, and fae sat and rolled around for most of that tethered existence. Standing up suddenly will make faer dizzy. Do not get this one in a sport.

Human AU Anuli likes to float in a pool, that's about it.)

[13.] How tall are you?

I can answer this one! HUZZAH!

About a half-Kamari length.

(This is the most accurate height chart you're going to get. And the Anuli doll took three months and is about the size of newborn child. I don't think I'll ever make a Kamari doll because... making that size accurate would be a nightmare and I don't think I would ever finish)

books for size comparison

[14.] Favourite subject in school?

What's school?

(Human AU Anuli would have hyperfixations in musicals and classical literature, along with the occasional high fantasy modern books... as long as they break tropes or have a good sense of storytelling (fae gets bored easily.) That being said, assignments are faer least favorite thing in the world, fae would have the highest grade in literature.... but only when fae gets to analyze stories or write faer own. When this happens, fae will write pages and pages longer than the assigned length.

All other subjects are barely over failing grade, except for art, although Anuli might do something completely opposite of what the instructions where but fae gets a decent grade anyways because it had a lot of effort put into it.

Anuli miiigghhhtttt have a learning disability in math, since cannon Anuli has a hard time counting. Numbers are hard to work with because fae can't see them that well... they are very abstract things.

History would be pretty good... except for the assignments parts. Human Anuli could infodump on ancient history for hours and think they all happened in the past hundred years.

Science is a hit or miss. Anuli's gone on a hyperfixation from time to time (mainly genetics because fae saw this one show where they use DNA to identify a killer), but fae just... doesn't do the assignments.

TL;DR - Literature and a bit of history, has a failing grade in most subjects because school work = executive dysfunction)

[15.] Dream job?

... I get to tell stories to Kamari while fae hums songs and makes windchimes, but that's another story entirely. That's not mine to have.

... I don't daydream about myself in a... positive light that often... so... I'll take suggestions for free lifestyles as long as it doesn't involve anything important or breakable or involving emotions or other beings or consistency.

[cadrenebula]

🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊 have lots! Which means answer as many for as many as you want! I want to hear all the things you want to share! :D

Okay let's see what my brain wants to talk about tonight!

Stefan is terribly awkward and quiet around larger groups of people. (Like more than 4 people usually.) Even more awkward if one of those people is a flirty male or barely dressed male. (Basically someone like Bram or Sahji's one partner, Toshi.) He is half Ishgardian but he was definitely Not raised there. So a lot of the time his awkward and shy behavior is chalked up to this half of his bloodline. Cause he sure as heck isn't that way when it comes to topics he's confident on. He has a sassy gremlin attitude when it comes to anything with magic or lately fighting.

Though currently he's in constant trouble for not eating well. Boy lives on coffee. Ely and Ronove are currently being sly about making him eat better. Sahji made him promise to eat better. He just gets so absorbed in whatever he's doing that he forgets to eat.

Poor Ronove has literally gone from the chaotic demon to the elder brother in his relationship with Stefan. Friend put it as: Older sibling who won't make you not do the stupid thing, but will make sure you do the stupid thing with back up and hold you back from doing monumentally stupid things while you're angry.

Cause Stefan wanted to go fight Tak for something that happened. But Ronove insists if that fight happens, he'll let them fight but drag them apart before they can maim each other.

Also he has decided to retake his old last name from when he was mortal. (Though I'm not paying to change it on game.) Crow (or a variation of) is a last name taken by many of the Troupe when they don't want to associate with the life they had before joining. Many of those who chose that name (including Ronove) definitely have seemed to behave much like the bird they take their last name from. (Clever and Spiteful if you wrong them. An Ronove is definitely pair bonded to Elijah.)

Alfarinn and Kino are often mistaken as a couple but they are very much queer platonic. They do love each other but not romantically. They tried that and it didn't work out of them. Trying to date another tracker like Domi isn't something Alfa is ready for. If he's ever ready for it. Domi's death left a deep wound on him. Which lead to a fight between Alfa and Kino when they had been dating. In the end Kino decided they couldn't date because part of Alfa was only seeing Domi when they looked at him. Kino has stuck around though to help Alfa because they do care about him.

Alfa does however currently have a crush on Tsume. But he's taking things very slow on that after what happened with Kino. So for now he's kept his crush very much under wraps. Thankfully Tsume is more of a warrior type rather than a tracker.

Despite being a sky pirate (an before that a Shroud bandit), Asher doesn't like to see suffering kids. He knows what it's like to be in their shoes, not knowing when or where your next meal might come. His brother did his best for them growing up but not all kids have that option.

Being a sky pirate hasn't made him wealthy by any stretch. But he does share what he can spare with kids when he comes across them. His captain knows this as well. Captain Celie tends to slip a bit of extra food into his bag when he's not looking before he heads out to buy parts in the cities.

Cedrik honestly thinks he's doing good by slaying voidsent. Doesn't think any of them are good in anyway because of an incident when he was a child. (An incident he remembers wrongly because childhood trauma.) He works with his partner to track them down and slay them.

Problem is, he caught hints of one around Aryn. And while he's been sleeping with Aryn cause why not... (An cause the both of them are enjoying the company.) He's starting to do the very thing Marcy told him not to do. He's gotten attached to Aryn rather than just using Aryn to get closer to whatever voidal he's spent time around. So now he has it in his head that Aryn needs protected from whatever voidal has been nearby. As if this won't end badly for him. Especially since two of the voidals lurking about work for the powerful one that is trying to get his claws on Stefan. How is this a problem? Oh only because Ronove and Fenryr will be on that list despite not being evil monster voidals. We'll see if Cedrik can change his beliefs or endanger himself.

Adelena has gotten so very little attention over the years. Some of it due to my lack of connections for her. (Which is mostly my own fault.) An partly because she was a Sanguine Siren and I was having trouble finding something for her that used that role. She's definitely still a Siren but with the way the MSQ has gone, she's just now a Siren with some freedom to do as she wishes.

She's decided to go hunting down than man that is her birth father. But she'd return to her captain and sisters in a heartbeat if they need her. Though she's not going alone either. She recruited the help of an arcanist from the guild in Limsa.

Though I intend to write most of her story myself over time on here, that doesn't mean she's not open to connections still if people wanted. Mostly I needed things I can write when people aren't free to do things with. Cause Adults. I have so many things waiting already because my lovely friends are all Adults and rl often kidnaps them or doesn't leave them with the energy to do things. Or even I don't have the brain sometimes for specific characters. So her story won't be entirely closed off from other people. It just gives me something to work on when I'm feeling the itch and no one is free. (Same kind of applies to Nebula as well.)

Thanks @pinxli

[seeing-you-differently]

In Another Universe

Read on A03

. . .

Chapter 3:

ELIJAH.

He didn’t say the name aloud, but the word still echoed bitterly in his mind, angering him as he watched his elder brother. It had been some time since he had last seen him, but of course, there were no indications in his appearance to show it. Elijah stood in front of him, dressed in his usual pristine suit, and though he didn’t say a word, he stood out, his appearance sticking out in the bar filled with exuberant drunks.

As the time of his arrival began to tick by, nothing seemed to happen. Although it had been a long while since they had not seen each other, neither made any moves to greet the other, merely watching in silence. However, one of the brothers held more disdain in their eyes than the other.

Caroline, noticing the prolonged silence and realizing that neither would want to be the first to speak, decided she would have to be the one to take the necessary steps. With a curious smile, she stood up—eyebrows scrunched in question as she scrutinized the newcomer with a tilted head. “Elijah, right?” she prompted.

With a slight nod in answer, he turned away from his brother and held out a hand for her. “Elijah Mikaelson at your service. Ms. Forbes, I presume? It’s a pleasure to meet you in person. I’ve heard much about you.”

“All good things, I hope,” she joked, smiling as she shook his hand. “And just Caroline’s fine, Elijah.”

“Yes, of course, Caroline,” Elijah smiled, nodding slightly in acceptance.

“Do you want to join us?” Caroline asked, stepping aside and gesturing to the seat beside her.

Before he could respond, Elijah caught his brother’s fierce gaze; eyes narrowed as he watched him behind Caroline. The glare was prominent on his face, showing his utter displeasure with the idea of him even considering sitting beside her, and a warning if he were to accept it.

Caroline, assumedly noticing Elijah’s hesitancy to respond, turned towards Klaus. As his eyes met hers, he recognized that oh-so-familiar glare she was sending him and quickly schooled his features in response. Klaus sent her a small smile, masking his face into the picture of innocence, but her glare only hardened, her head tilting slightly in a warning. Even without words, her eyes expressed everything, conveying what she wanted and the consequences if he didn’t.

The exchange between the two barely lasted a few seconds, but it was enough to make a small smile appear on Elijah’s face at his brother’s expression, not that it was noticed.

When his brother finally turned back, however, Elijah’s smile wavered, falling into a frown as he took in Klaus, watching him with narrowed eyes shrouded with mistrust. “Niklaus,” he began hesitantly but then faltered, unsure how to continue.

Even with Caroline’s silent warning, Klaus continued to watch Elijah without a word. His eyes dragged over his brother’s appearance, taking in the entirety of him with a critical look as if he was trying to find some detail or unseen change to show the time that had passed since they last saw each other, but he could find none.

“So,” Caroline said, drawing the word out in an uplifting lilt. “Elijah, how was your flight? Not too long, I hope,” she joked, letting out an awkward laugh as she tried to diffuse the growing tension between the two brothers.

“Yes, brother, how was the flight?” Klaus interrupted before Elijah could answer, glowering. “I do hope it wasn’t that much of an inconvenience.

Elijah turned towards Klaus, some tension slowly ebbing as he spoke. “It was truly no trouble, brother. I was,” a slight pause. “I was hoping to see you again.”

Klaus continued to eye him mistrustfully, “I can’t say I hold the same opinion.”

Caroline quietly hissed his name in warning, pushing him slightly in irritation. “Your arrival was a bit of a surprise for him,” she explained to Elijah, smiling apologetically, before looking somewhat sheepish as she continued. “I may not have told him you were coming.”

“I expected as much.” Elijah chuckled. “No worries, Caroline. When I returned, I assumed my arrival would not be the joyous reunion I hoped it would be.”

Klaus let out an exasperated sigh, tired of hearing his brother’s words. “What did you expect?” he snarled. He raised a clenched fist at Elijah. “You show your face after months of no contact whatsoever, not even so much as a farewell note in your suddenly bare bedroom.” With every point, Klaus raised a finger from his fist, and his voice only grew louder and angrier. “And then there was that particular argument we had that night where you—”

“Niklaus!” Elijah interrupted hastily, his eyes darting around the room as if someone could have overheard him, his gaze lingering on Caroline’s distracted form a tad too long for Klaus’s liking before looking back at him. “There is a reason why I left, even as hasty as I did, and I will explain it, just not here.”

Klaus’ voice lowered to a predatory whisper, his eyes narrowing as he leaned closer to Elijah. “And why pray tell is that?” he asked, tilting his head slightly in question.

Elijah didn’t answer his question with words, instead eyeing his brother with a particularly familiar look as he tried to convey a silent request to his brother.

Klaus’ scowl intensified, recognizing that look and what his brother wanted from him. He let out an incredulous scoff before sending Elijah a short nod in reluctant acceptance. Without turning from his brother, though, being careful to keep his eyes on Elijah as he spoke, he called out Caroline’s name. His expression still scrunched up in thinly veiled anger, his voice hard as he said, “Caroline.”

The girl in question turned towards him, and though he could not see her from where he was sitting, he could already imagine the questioning smile she was sending him.

“Yes?”

His fingers clenched into fists, his nails digging into his flesh as he breathed in deeply, fighting off his instincts, his want to keep her here with him, to keep her safe by his side.

“How about you head back to the house? I’ll be there in a bit.” The last sentence was every bit of a reassurance to her as it was to him. A reminder that he’ll see her again and that nothing would happen.

“Klaus,” she began to protest.

“Now.”

Her eyes narrowed in anger at him, clearly displeased with his tone of voice, and though he couldn’t see the glare she was giving him, he could feel the intensity of her stare zeroed in at the back of his head.

He turned towards her, reluctant at first to take his eyes off of Elijah, but when his eyes met her own, they softened, regardless of the glare she was still giving him, and when he spoke, his tone softened as well. “Please, love,”

Caroline’s glare slowly dropped, a reluctant smile replacing it as she stood up, but before leaving, she leaned towards him, giving him a gentle kiss goodbye. “Stay safe, okay?”

“Now, sweetheart, what fun would that be,” he responded quietly, a teasing smile gracing the hybrid’s face as he looked up at her.

Her eyes darted down quickly as she let out a small laugh, face scrunching up in amusement, before looking back at him seriously with a pointed finger. “I mean it, Klaus. I do not want to see you later coming home covered in blood or hearing about some weird animal attack tomorrow morning.”

“So, what you’re saying is as long as I’m discreet—” Klaus started with a mischievous smile as he raised a brow in question.

“You know exactly what I mean, Klaus.” She responded unamused.

He let out an overdramatic sigh, making a show of  looking as if he was debating over the decision before responding with faux annoyance, “If I must.” 

She shook her head slightly, amused at his antics as her smile widened. “I’ll be waiting for you in our room when you get back,” she spoke suggestively, giving him a slow kiss. His lips turned to a sly smirk at her suggestion before she continued. “And I want to hear all about how your talk with your brother went.” She smiled as she gave him one last kiss, this time on his cheek, before leaving.

Klaus’s eyes followed her form as she left, smiling softly as he watched her figure slowly disappear, becoming swallowed by a crowd of people and, eventually, the night. Still, it was only when he could no longer hear the soothing sounds of her slowed heartbeat did his eyes leave the door.

Elijah watched the scene in interest, noticing how his brother’s demeanor changed completely when he was with this girl and how his eyes seemed to radiate with joy when he was in her presence, which surprised him and made him wonder how he had not recognized it sooner.

When his brother turned around completely, meeting his eyes, the smile he was wearing lost its sheen, becoming bitter, and the once bright eyes hardened, leaving the previously joyful man unrecognizable.

“So,” Elijah began as he sat on the stool beside him, gesturing his head slightly towards the door where Caroline had left only moments ago. “Caroline—”

“Don’t,” Klaus warned before his brother could finish. “You said you would give your reasoning for leaving, but I did not stay for pleasantries and brotherly bonding.”

The irritation was clear in his voice, in the way he bit out those last words as if the idea alone angered him and was unbelievable, leaving Elijah no doubt that his brother had no intention of mending their ‘brotherly bond’ any time soon.

The expectant expression Klaus sent him, coupled with his relaxed demeanor and the casual hold on his drink, would have fooled any other. But Elijah knew his brother and his ticks, and the soft, rhythmic sound of his fingers as they unknowingly tapped the glass gave away his anxiousness.

“Brother, why don’t we go outside and walk along the streets as we talk?” Elijah asked. “I remember hearing much about how you loved the city and its sights.”

“I’m in no mood for sightseeing, brother.”

Elijah stood up regardless, opening up his suit jacket as he did so and pulling out a few bills, placing them beside his untouched glass; then, without looking back at his brother, he began to walk out.

Klaus’s irritation flared at his brother’s action. The mere thought that his brother believed he would merely follow him around like a mere child does without any explanation was unbelievable.

The fleeting thought of going back home came to mind. It would undoubtedly be more enjoyable, he thought. A smirk rose to his face, a lot more enjoyable. It would not be challenging to come up with some lie to appease Caroline, and what he knew would be endless questions concerning how it went. Still, knowing her, she would simply call Elijah to confirm it. He would rather suffer a few hours with him than endure whatever creative punishment Caroline comes up with because merciful his Queen was not—at least not when she was really angry.

So, with a heavy sigh, he quickly downed his drink, setting it down roughly on the counter before hurrying to catch up with Elijah.

***

A cold breeze blew at him as he exited, the wind sending a chill through those around him, making everyone except him tighten their coats around them to combat the weather. From the time he had entered the bar, the temperature had dropped from pleasant to chilling.

Klaus’s eyes darted to the faces around him when he exited, his gaze scanning among the few patrons who were outside near the entrance, looking for Elijah. The young men and women near the door were intoxicated, laughing and rambling nonsense to their fellow friends without care. Their friends watched with a smile, amused at their antics as if this were a daily occurrence, as they ushered them away.

He moved his gaze away from the front, his eyes searching among the throng of people. All the residents who walked by were bundled up tightly in their coats as they walked around together, enjoying the city’s lively nightlife.

The minutes began to pass, but he still grew no closer to finding his brother. When he started to think his brother had left him yet again, he turned to head back in the direction of home, not wanting to bother searching for his brother once again; a noise alerted him.

As he turned towards the noise, he noticed his brother Elijah hidden in a corner outside the bar, talking to someone on the phone. The corner allowed him a rare privacy, one that few could find from any supernatural being who wished to overhear with all the people around him. However, Klaus still walked closer, straining his hearing in hopes that he could overhear the conversation, but just as he got close enough to begin to hear, his brother noticed him and quickly hung up.

“There you are,” Elijah said, a calm smile coming to his face as he walked towards him. “I was beginning to think you would not come.”

“Who were you talking to?” Klaus asked, gesturing to the phone in Elijah’s hand.

“No one of importance,” Elijah answered, putting his phone in his suit jacket. “Come, I believe I promised you an explanation.”

Klaus walked towards his brother; his steps slowed. “And where are we going?”

Elijah took in his brother’s wary expression, smiling amusedly at him in response. “Worried, brother, that I may have ill intentions towards you? Do not worry; I promise I’ll get you back safe with Caroline in no time.”

“Yes, now why should I believe that?” Klaus asked.

“Because Niklaus,” Elijah began as he looked intently at his brother. “You are still my brother, and I’ll always have your best interests at heart, even if you do not see it.”

Before Klaus had a chance to respond or question his brother further, Elijah began walking, leaving Klaus to follow after him with more questions on his mind than answers.

[namorres]

DO WE HAVE A DEAL?  ∞  ELIJAH MIKAELSON

requested by: @mo-whore​                 →    Can i request an elijah mikaelson where the reader is the younger sister of the Salvatore’s brothers?

wc | 2.5k

warnings | blood, details of being stabbed? canon violence tbh

notes: okay so! this story is based around tvd elijah instead of originals elijah so he’s a bit cockier but! i hope you don’t mind it! i loved writing it :)

masterlist

Y/n climbed out of the car, walking past her older brothers without wanting to listen. The entire trip there, they’d squabbled about Elena, about how they felt and how Stefan was going to deal with her. Needless to say, Y/n was about ready to plug her ears or slap duct tape over their mouths – it was a pointless argument they kept having. 

“Damon, seriously, we have something to do, can we just drop it?” Stefan said, not having made it two steps from the car.

“No, Stefan. You’ve been avoiding it ever since we got in the car–”

“Shut the hell up!” Y/n turned on her heel, bridge of her nose pinched between her fingers as she rubbed at the headache forming. “It does not matter! You both love her, you both want her safe. Okay? Great.” Her brothers looked at her as if she were crazy, Stefan’s brows lowered and Damon’s eyes wide. “I’ve listened to you two argue over a girl – with the same face, might I add – for a century now. I don’t care about who loves her more, I just care about getting her back home safe. Can we do that?” Her shoulders were up, tone exasperated and quiet, “Is it okay if we do that?”

“Yeah,” Stefan answered, nodding, head down and walking toward her.

“Whatever you say, little sis,” Damon bit, but she knew he was hiding behind his tongue – he knew she was right, he’d just never admit it. Sibling rivalry at its finest. 

They all walked to a dilapidated house that sat in the middle of a rather dense forest-y area. The windows were boarded up, the walls covered top to bottom in moss and shrubbery. As Y/n walked on to the porch, the boards creaked underneath her boots, a stench of rotten, wet wood invading her senses. “No better place to hide somebody, right?”

Touching her hand to the doorknob, she gave it a tug. Locked. Of course. 

“Guys, we need another–”

A shatter of glass took her attention away from the front entrance, coming from around the side of the house. Walking to the source, she glared at Damon, looking rather proud of himself. “After you, m’lady.”

Biting back a small snicker – no matter how annoyed she got, he always found a way to make her laugh, she and Stefan went through the window, followed by Damon. The house was just as beaten and broken inside as it was outside. A second more of looking around, then all three Salvatore’s stopped, Damon placing a finger to his lips. 

Voices.

Scattering, all three of them went to different corners of the room, Y/n and Stefan traveling up the stairs, and Damon into the parlor. Her grip tightened around the stake-shooter in her hand, holding it closer to her hip. Y/n heard a shout, a man’s voice, then a woman’s, then Elena’s. As soon as they had come into the main entryway, Damon ran behind him, then Stefan in front of him. He threw Elena to the other woman he was with, looking around him, “Rose?”

“I don’t know who they are!” She defended.

“Up here,” Stefan said, opposite Y/n on the staircase. She heard steps up the stairs, could see the suit the man wore, half-shrouded by the wall. 

“Down here,” Damon taunted, making the man turn around. 

He stopped for a minute, looking around the room as if he’d be able to see either of them. “Whatever game you’re playing at here—”

Y/n stepped from around the stairs, quietly, pulling the trigger and sending a stake through the center of his palm. He reeled back, looking down at it and letting out a growl. In seconds, Stefan moved to grab Elena, and Damon grabbed the woman Y/n presumed to be Rose. The man looked back up, anger beginning to rise off of him like steam. 

“To whomever it may concern!” He shouted, looking around, grandstanding. “You may try to defeat me but,” he laughed, “you can’t.”

Y/n came from around the stairs, fully this time, looking the man in the eye. He stopped, a curious smirk on his lips, head tilted. Y/n gripped the shooter, aiming it straight at his heart, taking a breath, and pulling the trigger. The wood soared across the room, the man’s hand stopping it just as the tip pushed against his chest. 

“I warned you,” he taunted, giving her a cocky grin. In a blink, she was down in front of him, another stake in hand. She lunged for his chest, digging it through until she could feel it break his ribs. He groaned, letting out a breath and shoving her to the wall behind him, pinning her there. Grabbing the wood from his chest, he ripped it out, holding eye contact with her, then shoving it into the side of her neck. 

She gripped her throat, strangled breathing making the throbbing worse. The man stared at her for a moment, looking in her eyes. He took in a breath, leaning in just a small bit closer, “I will come for you. And when I do, you will let me in.” 

Stefan came from around the other set of stairs, firing off stake after stake. The man met him in the middle, attempting to disarm him. Stefan lunged forward, sending the both of them rolling down the stairs. Damon was down to meet them, having grabbed the coat rack when everyone’s eyes were on the two fighting, snapping it in half and shoving the man backward.

Y/n moved out of the way just in time, rolling to the side and falling against the ground, sputtering blood onto the dusty wooden floors. Damon shoved the man into the door, digging the broken coat rack through his chest and watching the blood under his skin turn ashen grey. A triumphant smile took over his face, stepping back and admiring his handiwork for a moment. Then Y/n sputtered another cough, ripping the stake from her throat and laying on her back.

Rose took off as soon as Damon turned around, but his focus wasn’t on her. He knelt down to Y/n, who let out a groaned whine, “Son of a bitch.” Her eyes met her brother’s, hooded and tired, “Can we go home?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he laughed, hooking his arms underneath her legs and her chest and picking her up from the floor. Her head fell against his chest, and Stefan came out, Elena in tow. 

“Y/n?” Stefan came over to his sister, looking up to Damon. 

“Stake through the neck,” Damon joked, “hurts like a bitch.” 

Stefan gave him a deadpan look, palm cupping his sister’s cheek as he looked her over. The wound was working its way closed, but she was already passed out against Damon’s chest.

“She’s fine, Stefan,” Damon scoffed, “just needs some rest.” 

–

Y/n woke up on the couch, hissing at the ache in her neck and sitting up. Shaking her head and scrubbing her eyes, she looked to the windows and noticed it was pitch black out.  She sighed, fingers ghosting over her neck as she continued to look around. Her brothers were probably asleep, having left her here instead of taking her to her room. Likely Damon, just to mess with her. 

Standing from the couch, she stretched, groaning and beginning to trudge to the kitchen. She stopped in her tracks whenever she heard a faint knock at the door, focus snapping to it. Walking over, she hesitantly grabbed the doorknob, opening the door and peeking around the side.

“Good evening,” a man said, shrouded in the dark. She opened the door just a little more to see him, the breath catching in her throat. Him. “Care to let me in? It is getting a bit nippy outside, don’t you think?”

Without thinking, she opened the door completely and nodded, eyes trained on his feet as he crossed the threshold. The house hadn’t been owned by humans, there was no need for her to tell him he could verbally – she was regretting that, now. Her eyes trailed up his frame, tracing his figure all the way up to the side of his face.

Sharp jaw, narrowed brown eyes, loose brown hair atop his head. His hands were tucked in his suit, which was slightly dirty. When he turned to her, she saw the rather large hole torn through his dress shirt, exposing a small portion of his skin. 

“Thank you,” he said, lips parted and upturned in a small smirk. “What’s your name?”

She blinked up at him for a moment, still trying to process why she hadn’t called for either of her brothers yet, nor why she let him in in the first place. “Uh,” she mumbled, licking her lips, “Y/n. My name is.. Y/n.”

“I’m Elijah, Y/n,” his head tilted, then he turned toward the living, room, walking in and leaning against the back of the couch with one hand. When he looked toward her again, the same smirk was painted on his face. 

She looked down, arms crossing over her chest as she walked forward to stand in front of him. “I’ve heard about you,” she muttered, “an Original, right?”

“Mm,” he grunted in agreement, eyes looking her over. 

“Now,” she swallowed, leaning against the couch with her hip, brows furrowing, “what does an Original want in Mystic Falls, with me?”

He huffed a chuckle, lips parting again as he tested her resolve with his gaze. When she held it, he gave her a thoughtful frown, “You’re going to help me keep Elena safe.”

She reeled back a small bit, staring up at him in confusion, “You want to keep Elena… safe?” When he nodded, she licked her lips and shook her head, “Help me connect the dots here – you have someone take her, meet them, try to kidnap her, then come to my house, and tell me that you want to keep her… safe. Have I got that right?”

Elijah smiled at her, looking off to the side before refocusing on her, “I have my own motives. I just need your assistance in assuring that the dopplegänger remains unharmed.”

Y/n mirrored his expression, stepping closer to the Original, “Care to indulge? I don’t make promises without details.” 

Elijah’s gaze flicked over her again as he looked down at her, this time slower, tongue darting across his lips. He took in a breath, words lingering in the air before he continued, “I will tell you this – you and your… brothers,” the words came off his lips with a hint of disgust, “will remain unharmed. My motives are simple – keep the girl safe, ensure that this ritual… never happens.”

Y/n studied him for a moment, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Why me? Why not… Bonnie, or Stefan or Damon? Or hell, Jeremy? That’s her brother.”

He fixed his cufflink, twisting so that his lower back was now what propped him against the couch. “I am not so interested in someone telling her that I was here yet,” he sighed, “besides, they are all… too close to her.”

“What makes you think I won’t tell her, hm?” Y/n’s head tilted to the side, challenging him with her words.

“Because you,” he said, looking at her over his shoulder, “don’t love her the same.”

Y/n looked at the vampire before her in shock, lips parted and breathing shallow. While it was true that she didn’t regard the Gilbert girl with the same affection as her friends and her brothers, she would still do anything to keep her safe. And if that meant telling her Elijah was here, asking about her, then she would. “You don’t know that,” Y/n bargained.

“Oh, but I do,” he said, looking back down at his shoes, “you see, what you did today, at the house, was for your family, not for Elena Gilbert.” He looked up at her again, eyes narrowing for a moment, “You value your brothers over her. That is what I know. Because I would do the same for my own family.” 

Y/n had nothing to say – he had her pegged. She wouldn’t tell Elena, she knew that deep down. Reason being, if she told Elena, she would tell her brothers, and her brothers would go into another frenzy of worry trying to make sure the girl stayed safe. Then they’d do what they always do – put her second. 

“I had a sister,” Elijah said, lowly. “My only sister, in fact.”

“Had?” Y/n looked at him with less crease in her brow, still hesitant, but more willing to hear him out. 

“My brother… my brother killed her,” Elijah sneered, turning toward her and tucking his hand back in his pocket. “And then he hid her, and the rest of my family’s, body. And he ran.”

“...Klaus,” Y/n whispered. “The other Original.” She’d read up on the first family at one time in her life, curious about her own existence. According to the books, Klaus was the oldest, the worst of them all, and his siblings were all… dead. Except for one. 

“Yes,” he said, looking to her. Then he looked away for a moment, sucked a breath through his teeth and said, “Do we have a deal?”

He was doing this for his family. The same reason Y/n did anything that risked her life. They were fighting a similar battle. She could respect that much. Looking down at her hands, she muttered, “Are you going to stay in Mystic Falls?”

He stayed silent for a moment, then nodded, “I believe so.”

“Can– can we meet again?” Her gaze found his once more, her heart nearly beating out of her chest, “I’d like to know more about this ritual… about your family. You.”

His lips parted, brows furrowed. He looked perplexed at her request, confused that she’d even ask such a thing. Then with a tilt of his head, he agreed, “I suppose so. I’ll leave you my number. But, before that, I need to know – do we have a deal?”

She sighed, biting the inside of her lip and then nodding, “Yeah. We have a deal.”

He put his hand out, asking silently for her phone. She obliged, setting it in his palm and watching as he typed the number in, then saved the contact. As he handed it back, he leaned in close to her ear, “Until we meet again, Y/n Salvatore.” 

Then he was gone. Y/n took in a quick breath, staring at the door with furrowed brows. Her heart was nearly beating out of her chest, adrenaline pumping from feeling the rush of him leaving. Looking down at her phone, she saw his number still on the screen, his name written out. Elijah Smith. 

She thought about his choice of last name in her phone… did he even have a last name? Then she realized that he was likely just covering his tracks, making it as inconspicuous as he could. Y/n thought about the idea of seeing him again, wanting to punch herself and congratulate herself at the same time – who’s to say he wouldn’t kill her the next time they saw each other? Who’s to say he would?

[livlepretre]

Hey! I saw your recent ask game and um A ELENA X FINN FIC?? WHAT??? I need details!

YES! Inspired by @finnismyoriginalsin who got me started with a prompt for this a couple of months ago. 

The premise is that, somehow, when Finn gets staked the 2nd time (on The Originals), he doesn’t end up on The Other Side or wherever he’s supposed to go in canon, but instead ends up trapped in a featureless limbo... with Elena, who herself has been trapped there alone ever since she was put under the sleeping spell at the end of season 6 of TVD. 

Obviously Finn finds her distasteful at first, and is determined to find a way to break out of their prison... and to keep as much distance between himself and Elena Gilbert as possible... but as time passes and he finds himself unable to move on, he eventually gives in to the inevitable: getting to know her. With only each other to pass eternity with, they grow close, and slowly, inexorably, fall in love. 

The tragedy, of course, is that Elena’s time in limbo is inherently finite. Eventually, Bonnie will die, and she’ll be pulled back into her living body. 

Here is the excerpt I posted back in August:

“What are you doing here?”

He can’t say he particularly likes her. She’d been one of the three who had ambushed him the first time he’d felt the hellish bite of a white oak stake piercing his heart.

The girl looks up at him with wide brown eyes, a frown marring her deceptively perfect face. He knows what lies beneath the veil of that soft skin, those sharp cheekbones and that pert nose, those fluttering lashes and tremulous lips. He’s seen the way one look from one such as her can be an entire family’s undoing. Has heard of the illicit deeds her forebear had perpetrated with both of his brothers, her base desires bringing dishonor to them both, and then all of them, in turn.

He still remembers what Tatia Petrova’s blood had tasted like, though he hates himself for recalling it with such clarity.

And besides. Sage had whispered things to him the last time he had been here, to the Other Side. He should really be looking for her now.

Just the thought of her is enough to erase the bitterness from his heart, the anguish over his second death, over the family he could never quite pull from their dark paths, try as hard as he had to save them.

All of that is over now. He has a future, and Sage is in it. At last.

That’s all that matters.

He turns to leave without waiting for an answer from the girl.

“How did you get here?” she calls after him.

Finn pauses. He’d never gotten to know Tatia Petrova very well– had missed altogether the incident with the other one, the one whose name begins with a K but he can never remember what it is– but he’d never realized she was stupid.

“I died. Obviously.”

The girl catches up to him. Dares to put her hand on his arm. “You’re not supposed to be here, though.”

He breaks his arm free. “Where else does a vampire go after death,” – and oh, how it sours his mouth to describe himself thusly– “if not the Other Side?”

The girl backs away from him. Glances behind her, at the great expanse of… well, Finn notices for the first time that there really isn’t anything here. Just a wasteland, shrouded in mist. No trees or cliffs or meadows or human structures or anything at all that he remembers from the last time he had died. Even the light is different. Where before he remembers an eternal twilight, ideal for the creatures of the night doomed to haunt the Other Side, and for the witches in need of night time’s stellar events to fuel their spiritual magicks, this place is hazy and bright, like a morning gone to fog.

Almost as soon as they form, the girl confirms his fears.

“This isn’t the Other Side.”

*

“Where else could it possibly be?”

The girl-- what had her name been again? Ellen? Eleanor?-- shrugs helplessly. “I’m not sure.” 

“That’s very helpful.” 

“Look, it’s not like I’m an expert on these things.” 

“You just told me a minute ago I’m not supposed to be here. That implies you know something.” 

“No, not really.” 

“Well, how did you get here?” 

She bites her lip. “I’m waiting.” 

“For what?” 

“That’s not important.” 

“Who else is here?”

“No one.” 

He steps away from her. “No one?” he echoes. Surely that’s not possible. 

“No one. Until you.” She tilts her head in a way he imagines might be charming were he not so very annoyed with her and his very existence in general. “You’re one of the Originals, right?” 

Apparently, she had thought as little of him as he had of her. Wonderful. 

“Elijah’s brother?” she tries, when he doesn’t respond right away. “The one who wanted to kill everyone else?” 

A muscle in his cheek jumps, and he realizes he’s clenching his jaw-- an unfortunate habit from his human years, when his temper had gotten the best of him far too often. “Save everyone else,” he corrects her shortly. 

She squints at him. “You mean that.” 

“I hardly ever say anything I do not mean.” Why he bothers to tell her this, he cannot say. 

[the-dancing-ghost]

“Every year on the eve of the Hallowed Festival...

previous

...the veil between the mortal world and the realm of the dead grows thin.” Si strums an ominous chord on their lute as they step backwards towards the hot springs, shrouding themselves in the drifting steam.

“You can at least skip the story,” Micah points out between mouthfuls of duck. “We’ve all heard it a million times.”

“Aww, let them go.” Kara gives the healer’s shoulder a friendly shake. “You know how much they love it! And besides, this is Elliott’s first Hallowed Festival.”

Si shows no sign of stopping anyway. “For centuries, the inhabitants of Spirit’s Cross have looked to the souls that linger in the Steamshallows for guidance. Each year, by tradition, a particularly sensitive soul – that would be yours truly – steps forward from the town’s populace to interpret the signs that drift in the steam. The dead have questions for you! On this night, they urge you to examine that for which you may not spare thought – your souls, your selves, your bonds with one other – now, while you can, while your heart still beats.”

Elliott crosses his arms, scowling. “Can I just sit this out? I don’t think I like where this is going, and somebody’s got to put a dent in all this food.”

“It’s really not that bad,” Grayson assures him. “Si’s just playing up the drama. The questions are never that deep. Usually they’re pretty fun!”

“You will also have plenty of time to eat while others give their answers,” Elijah adds, his eyes twinkling.

“If you’re all ready, we can begin!” Si turns their back to their assembled friends, peering into the swirling mist. Their hair flutters dramatically in the chill autumn breeze. “First question...”

---

How To Play:

Send an emoji and specify which character you would like to answer the question!  The character will also eat the associated food.

The available characters are: Kara, Grayson, Micah, Elijah, and Elliott

Everyone is in the feasting spirit and will do their best to convince their tummies to hold as much as possible. c; When a character gets too full, they will tap out of the game.

Some questions require a character to talk about their relationship with another character!

When posing one of these, you may specify which friend you would like the character to answer for. Otherwise, Tiny and Myx will randomly select a second character.

You may ask a character to talk about a character who is not involved in the game (e.g. you could ask Elijah about his relationship with Ryder, even though Ryder is not participating.)

Please observe the following rules when sending asks:

You can send up to three foods to the same character in single ask -- but please no more than three!

You can send food to multiple characters in a single ask.

You can send a character a food / question they’ve already gotten in a previous ask -- but please don’t try to send multiples of the same food to the same character in the same ask!

Questions:

🥖 [braided bread] - what’s one food you never get tired of? 🌰 [roasted chestnuts] - what was your first impression of your friend? 🌽 [corn on the cob] - what’s your least favorite creature in the wilds of Skyrim? 🥕 [steamed carrots] - what’s the funniest memory you have with your friend? 🥔 [roasted potatoes] - what’s your favorite comfort food? 🧀 [eidar cheese wedge] - what’s something you’re embarrassed by?

🥘 [beef stew] - if you could visit any place in Skyrim, where would you want to go? 🥬 [apple cabbage stew] - how would you describe your relationship with your friend? 🥣 [clam chowder] - what’s your favorite thing to wear? 🍅 [tomato soup] - talk about a time a friend took care of you 🥙 [goatherder’s sandwich] - name one thing you admire about your friend?

🥩 [venison chop] - name one thing you’re grateful for 🍗 [rabbit haunch] - do you have a big appetite? 🍖 [leg of goat roast] - what’s the scariest moment you’ve had in the past year? 🥓 [bacon] - how prone are you to overindulging? 🐟 [salmon steak] - what’s the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen? 🦀 [steamed mudcrab legs] - what’s one unusual fact about you?

🥛 [fresh milk] - what’s your least favorite part of your job? 🍵 [hot tea] - what’s your go-to remedy for when you’ve overindulged? 🥃 [Steamspirit mead] - what’s one thing you like about living in Spirit’s Cross? 🍷 [Alto wine] - do you believe in the Divines? 🍺 [ale] - how do you plan to stay cozy this winter?

🍞 [toast with honey] - what's something you think your friend doesn't realize about themselves? 🍠 [sweet potato bake] - what’s the quality you like most about yourself? 🍎 [baked apples] - what are your dreams usually like? 🥮 [boiled cream treat] - what was the first moment you knew you were friends? 🥧 [fruit pie] - which fall food do you like best?

[rclldamage]

The creature would not be felled so easily with mundane means. Elijah had grown fatigued in the exchange but most of all annoyed by how the scale mail that donned his torso had been damaged. Ringlets clattered on the stone ground much as rain droplets would fall against the earth. There had been only one option. He made it without hesitation. When the creature had lunged for the stranger, Elijah took the blade of his glaive and ran it across his palm with a loud hiss. As the blood seeped from the wound, he raised his palm forward and enacted the blood curse from his own vitaly into the monster. Its eyes fogged and clouded with crimson. Blinded. Before recovery was an option, Elijah dragged the blade across the back of his hand, coating the sharpened edge with his own blood. The crimson rite had caused the metal to crackle with electricity. Each strike against the creature charged and bursting with crimson electric energies.

When the beast laid slain, Elijah moved away from the corpse. The handle of his sparking glaive made a deep trench along the ground as he dragged it behind himself to a fallen over log where he rested. He had believed that he had kept his damaged hand away from eye sight, away from the eyes of Lambert, until the other had made mention of the blood. His retainers were nowhere in sight to use as a distraction. And out in the wilderness, he made sure that no one knew how much weight his name would carry within a glided and guarded cityscape. No, he doubts that a man such as him would even listen should he give orders from him to ignore it.

He snorted softly. There’s not much to it then to reveal the bloodied hand as casually as it was to breathe in the very air. “ I was not as quick and the beast had a taste of me, “ Elijah lied. Though he believed it had been a convincing one, the markings on palm and back of hand were too clean and precise to be from a tooth or claw. “ Needn’t worry, all I need to do is fetch a potion from my bag and right as rain. “

answered for @holysound. Blood Maledict, Blood Curse of the Eyeless, & Crimson Rite used for prompt. Deception Check roll: 8.

[brokenjardaantech]

rk1700 december day 15: snow

written for @rk1700december​. day 15: snow

rhea is female connor. cronos is rk900.

also on ao3

----

Cronos comes back from training one day to Rhea shaking a… thing. With a mansion inside of the clear impenetrable sphere and the suspended white particles, a scan tells him that it is something called a ‘snow globe’ except that it is shaped like a lamp. He sits on the floor behind Rhea and pulls her into the space between his legs, adding a kiss onto her cheek when she is close enough, and he knows the snow globe really has her attention when she doesn’t turn around to return the kiss as usual. He presses their cheeks together, and their skin at the points of contact retracts automatically for an interface. Where did you get this? he asks. Aren’t you cold watching it?

Rhea frowns. I don’t… it cuts off from there. Can you turn off the lights?

Their quarters plunge into darkness with a thought from Cronos, and he watches Rhea slide her pinky underneath the bottom of the lamp and turn it on with a click of a switch. Light spills out of the mansion’s windows, reflecting off the flakes which start spinning automatically propelled by the invisible swirl of the liquid in the globe and shrouding the room in a warm, mesmerising shade of yellow. When the raw brightness of the lamp becomes too much, they both look up at the same time just to see the swirling spots of brightness on the ceiling, on the wall, on each other’s face. It should not be this warm, this magical - mansions of that style are empty, remnants of a time long passed; snow means cold, cold means heat loss, heat loss means… means death to Rhea. Does Rhea know this, or are facts and logic ignored in the face of a beautiful sight? Why does he, advanced as he himself is, also feel the same despite having the ability to pre-construct - in great detail, nonetheless - how they would slowly waste away if left out in the open, how he would have to give up on maintaining Rhea’s system so that she could die before him and live her whole life knowing that she was loved? 

Anchor won’t let that happen, Rhea’s voice pulls him out of his downward spiral. She’s brave enough to protect us from our creator. She won’t… she won’t… her uncertainty grows. I think… 

Cronos shushes her. There is no use speculating, he feels hypocritical when he says it. We have other things to worry about.

Such as?

My training. The conflict that Anchor still refuses to tell us about. Your condition.

Very true.

Rhea wriggles in his arms. They both stand, he lets her drag him towards their bed, and she places the snow globe lamp on the bedside table before flopping down onto the bed, bringing Cronos with her. They cuddle close together without compromising their view on the light show, and although Rhea falls asleep not long after, thoughts do not stop swirling in Cronos’ head like the flakes in the snow globe.

    A few days later, he still hasn’t figured out where the snow globe came from. Neither the item itself nor the box it came from bear enough evidence for him to reconstruct the events of its arrival into the room as if it materialised out of nowhere. Again the grey backdrop of his reconstruction software, he watches the yellow outline of Rhea’s figure wake up from her nap, see the box on the floor and, instead of pinging him to check if it is anything explosive or harmful, open the cover and slide the block of shock-absorbing material out of the container. The material comes off soon afterwards, and he sees Rhea’s reconstruction stare at the particles suspended in the globe for a few minutes until - presumably - most of the snow has fallen, after which she picks it up and switches it on just to drop it onto the shock-absorbing material; even without a face, Cronos can sense Rhea’s shock and panic as she carefully takes the lamp in hand once more before assuming the posture he found her in. He blinks, colour returning to his vision, and he immediately sends a report to Anchor. A few hours pass during which she forwards updates from site security regularly to him, Cronos preparing his mind for an upcoming wing-wide sweep which will remove him - and Rhea, by extension - from their quarters for at least half a day as all the reports return inconclusive, but it isn’t until a full day afterwards that the human brings two armed escorts with her and orders them to not only bring the androids to another room but also stay with them at all times. When he asks her about it, he can feel her eyes scanning the room and landing on the origin of their troubles, and her gaze does not soften even as it sweeps over Rhea who flinches and hides behind Cronos.

‘Someone managed to sneak an unauthorised item deep into this facility without being detected,’ a biotic field so weak that it is barely detectable fizzles and expands from her body until it fills the entire room. ‘This is a security breach and I’m not risking your safety.’

‘Then why didn’t you come earlier?’ he puts an arm around Rhea and guides her towards the door even as he says so. ‘Why now?’

‘Use your processors, Cronos.’

The door slides shut behind them, and the click that follows and the change in the colour of the hologram signify the lock engaging. They are locked out of their own quarters. Next to him, Rhea shivers, making Cronos realise that they don’t even have the time to grab her jacket.

‘C’mon,’ one of their escorts says and gestures towards the direction they should go with their gun. The uniform and helmet are designed to hide as many identifiers as possible, and now Cronos can’t even scan them to know if they’re human or android. ‘This way. We’ve got your new place stocked up.’

Their new, hopefully-temporary quarters is no different from their old one apart from the standard-issue bed which now feels a bit narrow, but since it also means more cuddling and snuggling with Rhea underneath layers of covers, he isn’t complaining about his current situation despite the lack of answers on Anchor’s part. 

Who did answer his questions, on the other hand, is Elijah.

Cronos, the email reads, it’s nice to hear from you. For the sake of keeping things pleasant, I have decided to ignore the fact that the snow globe you mentioned seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, and to answer your first question: yes, I do have experience with snow. A lot of it, in fact, as my childhood home is quite famous for being cold and harsh in winter, and our winters remain long despite the influence of climate change. Since the environment I grew up in was not exactly… child-friendly, it had always been better for me to focus on the unique patterns of snowflakes than the death and lifelessness it symbolises - easier on my poor young brain, and one needed all the hope and discovery they could find in the cold land far up north.

As for your second question about the warmth you feel when you look at the snow globe: I have always found it ironic that winter coincides with traditions and customs that, under more pleasant circumstances, should provide warmth and support to a person, be it familial love or that between friends and/or lovers, and I must apologise for not being able to provide a more substantial answer as my personal experience with said traditions and customs are sparse and in between. Those I did experience, however, I remember clearly to this day. I will not discuss the details here as it will pose a security risk and be a breach of Alliance protocol, but should you wish to pursue the matter further, feel free to ask Anchor about it. Councillor’s approval. Signed, Reed

Cronos wonders if Elijah knows that Anchor would probably kill him if he tried to talk to her right now but sends him a reply anyway to thank him for his input and direction. Their skins receding at their points of contact, he interfaces with Rhea and plays the recording of the snow globe’s projection in their original quarters on a loop until it puts both of them to sleep so that he doesn’t have to think.

    Their return to their quarters comes as suddenly as their departure. Anchor, as usual, provides little to no explanation apart from a simple ‘the situation has been handled,’ and therefore as Cronos watches Rhea crawl all over her original home to examine whether everything is in place - even the snow globe is, in fact, and Cronos has to ask about it - he decides that a visit to the human is needed, one way or another. Rhea has already turned on the lamp and is ready to switch off the lights as well when he asks her if she wants to follow him to find Anchor, but she willingly goes with him under the condition that she is allowed to bring the lamp with her (and of course he lets her; he rationalises that if Anchor allowed the lamp to remain, it means the lamp is safe). Finding the human in a large facility is, however, another can of worms in its entirety; it is after fifteen long minutes of wandering around and probably annoying the brains out of site personnel by asking them about Anchor’s whereabouts that they stand in front of a locked door leading to the observation deck. Taking a breath he doesn’t necessarily need physically, he holds Rhea’s hand tight in his grasp and knocks with his other one. A few seconds of silence. He feels Anchor’s biotics sneaking up from the minuscule gap underneath the door and gives him a poke. The lock disengages with a click.

‘Come in.’

Cronos interfaces with the touchpad to open the door. Rhea lets go of him and barrels in, stopping next to the human only when she realises that Anchor, who is sitting on the floor parallel to the floor-length windows, doesn’t seem to be interested in her and is staring at the floodlight-illuminated barren landscape outside. She kneels to place the lamp in front of the human, and that is when the latter turns and nudges the lamp towards the android. ‘Keep it,’ she says, her eyes not leaving the view once. She sounds… tired. ‘You seem to like it.’

As usual, Rhea turns towards Cronos to indicate that she wants him to answer for her. ‘She does,’ he replies. ‘Is that why you left it in our quarters?’

Anchor lays her gaze on him. ‘Ripping an object a person is attached to without said person’s consent has been proved to be traumatic. My orders are to take care of the two of you, and that means no unnecessary harm from me.’ She leans forward to place the lamp in Rhea’s arms properly. ‘I might agree with the Administrator in a lot of things, but this is not one of them.’ A cock of her head as the rings of her eyes seem to glow brighter, but it can be a trick of the floodlights outside. ‘Why are you here anyway?’

‘Do you know where or whom did the lamp come from?’

‘Yes.’

‘Do we want to know?’

‘No.’

‘Why?’

Anchor shrugs, her face carefully blank. ‘There’s a fight out there. No use dragging you into all that.’

‘What fight?’

‘None of your business. Hopefully, at least. Any more questions?’

‘Yes, actually,’ he sees Rhea shaking the globe again. ‘When we turned on the lamp, it… snows in the globe. Logically, snow is associated with winter, and Rhea and I should have felt cold when looking at the artificial snowfall. However, both the scene and its projection brought us a warmth that should not be associated with snowfall. Is it a normal reaction? Elijah suggested asking you about this strange phenomenon.’

The human looks at Rhea and watches her entertain herself with the snow globe, and for a few seconds there is silence. Then, gesturing to the space in front of herself, ‘Sit down.’

Cronos mirrors her posture and sits down leaning against the glass with his legs outstretched. Seeing that her - what exactly is his relationship with Rhea anyway? - successor is on the floor, Rhea crawls underneath his arm without being prompted and snuggles close with the lamp balanced in her lap, a small smile on her face as she lays her head on his shoulder and continues looking at the particles in the snow globe softly like it both contains all the answers and is the most lovely thing in the universe.

‘One way to explain it without breaching my vows is that a… holiday where people celebrate together coincides with winter in the northern hemisphere of earth,’ Anchor’s line of sight turns towards the landscape outside once more. ‘Some places snow, some places don’t, but if we’re talking about stereotypes, yes, it snows while everyone stays indoors to enjoy their time with their loved ones. Snow-blanketed outdoors, fire-warmed and brightly-lit indoors; good, warm food, companionship, a chance to meet with one another - these are just a few images and expectations of the holiday.’

‘And to you?’

‘Sort of similar to this. Food, people I wanted to be with, warm on the inside, cold on the outside. Sometimes we exchanged presents, sometimes we didn’t, some were even worse.’

‘“Worse?”’

‘Try running away from an incompetent father and a bitch of a mother with your sibling even though you know a blizzard is coming. Worst winter ever, but that was also the last one we had to suffer through with our parents, and it got substantially better afterwards.’

‘Do I want to know the details?’

‘No.’

‘Understandable?’ he can’t imagine two humans surviving the cold, but then again humans are not supposed to be able to control dark energy either, and here they are. ‘Then what were the other winters like?’

‘I just described it to you.’

‘Yes but…’ Cronos struggles to convey that he wants to know more without sounding too eager, ‘I want more details.’

‘Details, huh?’ Anchor’s voice now matches the blankness of her face. ‘You sure you want to hear about earth? There isn’t much worth reminiscing.’

‘They will all be new to me.’

‘Fine,’ the human straightens herself. Her eyes turn glassy. ‘There was no snow the first time I truly celebrated the holiday, but it rained starting from the afternoon and continued well into the night. I wanted to study for my exam and had been doing so since the beginning of the holiday, so I thought… I could spare a day with my sibling. He busted arse for the past ten years of his life trying to raise a kid even when he was just a kid himself as well and getting a high school diploma and earning extra cash to feed the two of us because we ate so damned much thanks for unexplained space magic, and that was the first winter he didn’t have to worry about our heat cutting off in the middle of the night and giving us hypothermia.’ A pause. ‘I sneaked downstairs the night before to put the present for him next to that tiny-arse tree since it was so small that there wasn’t enough space underneath to shove that box into. He wants an actual holiday, I wanted to give him one, so I even got the damned book wrapped in recycled paper. It was just a sodding book I had seen him eye when we had walked past bookstores, and he cried - legit cried - because I gave him a damned book he wanted and wrapped it up nice and tidy with no tape. I learnt on that day that people can actually cry and look so happy at the same time. Then we had brunch, he watched me play some video games before going for a nap, he woke up, we had dinner, we watched the movie version of a book associated with the holiday as he sipped on hot chocolate, and we went to bed. All without being scared once that we would need to brave the chill to get some last-minute groceries - supplies - or that we wouldn't have enough money to keep ourselves full the week after.’

She ends it there, and Cronos gives himself a few minutes to let that sink in. ‘Sounds like you love each other a lot and celebrated it through the holiday.’

A dull thud. Cronos draws his eyes away from the lamp falling out of Rhea’s limp hands and follows Anchor’s gaze just to see clunks of ice slightly larger than the nail on his thumb hitting the ground, turning into smoke before they can hit the floodlights, shattering on the reinforced glass of the observation deck and subliming under the heat, and soon the ground is covered in a thin layer of broken pieces of dry ice. Mars’ own version of snow.

‘Is this normal?’ Cronos asks. 

A small smile appears on Anchor’s lips. ‘Every single summer.’

----

the snow globe/lamp in the fic: 

[highgaarden]

The One Where Caroline Rides A Horse And The Salvatores Win Top Chef

many moons ago, i was lucky enough to be involved in a massive writing ficathon project with a handful of absolutely talented writers. i stumbled upon it by chance when i was traversing my dusty, abandoned livejournal, laughed to myself way too many times, and decided that i simply must share it here. so without further ado...

Title | A Chinese Whispers Fic; Or, The One Where Caroline Rides A Horse And The Salvatores Win Top Chef Authors | catteo, swirlsofblue, cranmers, jane_wanderlust, kwritten, bogwitch, kachera, steph2311, ovariesofsteel, nereemac, lizwontcry, jeremy_finch, elenarain and waltzmatildah Artist | pamsblau Fandom | The Vampire Diaries Characters/Pairings | Rebekah, Damon, Stefan, Caroline, Klaus, Elijah, Finn, Bonnie, Elena, Jeremy, Katherine, Alaric (Klaus/Caroline, Rebekah/Damon, Katherine/Jeremy, Bonnie/Finn) Rating | MA Word Count | 10000 Summary | This fic was written by a team of authors who were only given the several hundred most recently written words to work from each time they added a new section. It doesn’t make sense, it’s not supposed to make sense! It’s supposed to be crack, and it is! Crack, glorious crack! The title says it all, really… .

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ONE: The Part Where Caroline Rides A Horse And Rebekah Rides Damon

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The clock on the kitchen wall tells him it’s four twenty seven. AM or PM is anyone’s guess as the little hand fails to tick a languid journey around the circular face. Damon makes a brief mental note: must buy batteries. Amends: rechargeable batteries. From the inky black that still shrouds the windows, drapes pulled slightly askew as he wanders back into the living room, he guesses the harsh light of morning remains hours out of reach. He takes to cataloguing the damage done as a means to pass the time. A resounding crack in the plasterboard where his shoulder-blades had connected roughly with a support beam. Jagged fragments of vase and lamp and picture frame, shattered, confetti-like, along the length of one hallway. He winces as he bends to collect the larger shards. Notes he can no longer tell the Ming from the Portland and offers up a soft sigh of relief that they’d only been replicas of the real things. There’s a dent in a silver serving tray that looks suspiciously like the curve of Rebekah’s ass. Which is odd because he doesn’t remember them making it as far as the liquor cabinet. Which is empty so… Hmm. Okay. ------ “What are you doing?” He double-takes at the sight of her, naked and dishevelled at the base of the staircase. Imagines glass shards pricking at the soles of her feet and shudders at the inevitability of bloodstains on his oriental carpets. “I’m vacuuming.” His reply swallowed by the airy roar of the device’s motor. “It’s the middle of the night.” He doesn’t really see her point. Tells her. “I don’t really see your point.” “Come to bed.” Which is funnier than it should be but only because, by the smell of her, she’s been rolling around between Stefan’s sheets since they parted ways at the top of the stairs. Naked and breathless and, admittedly, kind of sore. Jesus. “We could have sex again,” she offers. As though she can read his mind. And he must admit, the thought of fucking an Original in his brother’s bed is seven levels of tempting, but… “I’m vacuuming.” Because this mess won’t clean itself up. And it’s not like he can trust anyone else to do it for him. At least, not properly… She pouts, but then… “I’ve never used one of those before…” ------ With a degree of reluctance that is only almost embarrassing, he finds himself handing over control. And when exactly was it that he became this person? This person that could enthusiastically share cleaning tips with his naked sexual conquests. He thinks there must be something about this particular one and the almost wistful way in which she’d regarded the newest member of his collection. The Dyson DC39. Purchased especially because Ric has allergies… Also, the lifetime (heh) HEPA filter warranty and the latest in Radial Cyclone technologies had also been a top selling point. But she’s not quite doing it right he notes. Her sweeping motion with the nozzle entirely too haphazard to ensure optimum debris collection. And he arcs his chest around her bare back then, slides one arm along the length of hers and grips the handle just below where her fingers are tightly entwined. Guides the head of the cleaner into a more fluid motion that is easier to maintain. “Oh,” he hears her whisper. Soft against the side of his neck. “I think I understand it now…” Which is lucky. Because that’s the moment Caroline chooses to ride in. ------ “Is that a - ”No. Ridiculous, he thinks. I’m obviously drunk. Vaguely, he feels his grip loosen on Rebekah���s hand. Notes out of the corner of his eye that she keeps up the fluid, efficient motion he’d taught her moments ago but is too busy gaping at Vampire Barbie 2.0 sitting atop her rather large black horse. Side-saddle, he notes. As if it matters. “Yes. It is a horse. No, you’re not drunk.” She rolls her eyes. “Okay, maybe you are drunk. But this is still me. On a horse.” “In my living room.” Ask him later, and he’ll tell you this is the most hilarious scenario to be part of in almost a century. Right now he’s too busy thinking about the possibility of the animal making a mess on his new Persian rug. Because there is no other logical action that he can think of, Damon rubs a hand over his face and heads for the liquor cabinet. He’s almost there when he remembers it’s disappointingly empty. Luckily, he remembers he keeps a bottle hidden in his room especially for the rare instance in which he runs out downstairs. “Excuse me.” He doesn’t wait for an answer before speeding up the stairs. “Nice ass, Damon!” “Bite me, blondie!” ------- A still naked Rebekah continues vacuuming as if nothing awkward has happened. “Well. I see Niklaus is going for big and bold. He always did seem to overcompensate.” Caroline laughs, despite herself. “What the hell am I supposed to do with a horse? And why are you naked?” “That’s rather obvious, isn’t it? You ride it. Which works as an answer for both questions, doesn’t it?” “But I have nowhere to keep a horse. Or money to pay someone else to keep it for me. Or the desire to own a horse! They’re pretty, yes, but that’s it! When your crazy sociopath hybrid brother asked me if I liked the horse I was looking at, I didn’t think it was so he could make up his mind to buy me one!” The Original gives up on the vacuum when she hears the younger blonde’s hysterics. Notes, rather proudly, that she’s managed to make the carpet look quite like new. “Caroline, this happens to be a very beautiful horse. You happen to look fabulous riding it, as much as it pains me to say, but if neither of those things matter to you, then just give it back.” A rather loud plop, followed by a rather strong odour, serves to punctuate Rebekah’s words of wisdom. ------ Rebekah rolls her eyes as she realises that it doesn’t matter how proficient she is at naked housework, the Persian rug is done for. Damon’s going to be furious. He still hasn’t gotten over Stefan’s sorority girls breaking his crystal decanter during a particularly vigorous game of ‘Twister’ last month. Apparently he was saving it for an especially significant dramatic moment. She realises she’s probably going to have to keep him occupied. Also, she really needs to find out what ‘Twister’ is. “Where are you going? You can’t leave me!” Caroline’s looking a little wild around the eyes. Rebekah wrinkles her nose in distaste as she navigates her way around the rug. “I’m going to distract Damon. You should probably get rid of this. And maybe that.” She gestures vaguely towards the horse. “No hurry. We’ll be a while. I’m sure that Nik would be only too happy to keep you…” She pauses a beat. “Busy.” She blurs upstairs to the sound of Caroline’s new horse snorting in perfect tandem to Caroline herself. Rebekah gives a passing thought to the parquet floors as she goes – manure is so tough to remove from wood. She’s spared any further rumination on the finer points of housekeeping by Damon, wrapping his arm around her waist and tackling her to the bed. “God, you’re sexy when you vacuum.” Damon lifts an eyebrow, pouts slightly, picks up a twenty-five year aged malt and slowly pours it over her body. Busies himself for the next twenty minutes licking it off. It’s the most fun Rebekah’s had since she learned that vinegar could remove lime-scale. Damon’s teaching her a lot. Her back arches as Damon buries a head between her legs, fangs bared. She forgets all about housework. ------ Meanwhile, downstairs, Caroline is finding that there are a lot of things that a horse won’t do. Make a tight turn in a crowded sitting room for example. There are all kinds of things trodden into the carpet and she decides that it’s probably best to leave whilst she still can. The last thing she needs is an irate Damon sprinting down the stairs. The back view was quite enough to be coping with for one day. Besides, she has an original hybrid to deal with. She aims the horse towards the French doors and discovers, as they crash through a window, that the steering is nowhere near as good as her Dodge. She’s not sure if the screaming coming from Damon’s room is pleasure or fury. Decides not to stick around to find out. She flicks the reigns and feels a thrill rush through her as muscles bunch and flow under her, racing towards Klaus’ tastefully renovated home. READ MORE ON LJ

[ruthlessnessisyourdesire-archive]

@stayhuman-genevieve​ said:

Onyx Black

Send me a color and my muse will give a name of another muse they associate the color with

// Sixty views onyx for Elijah Kamski @creatorofclay​ as this is a shroud that covers his creator’s true thoughts and feelings towards others. A guard placed up to deflect against possible weak points outsiders might glean from the creator of androids. Lust will use this for his Father figure in a means of showcasing the darkness that bestows upon Elijah from his half demon side. Not to mention his scrape with Lucifer’s ring of power. All in all, Elijah is a mystery if he does not let you in and onyx black is that night you fade into trying to find the answers behind him. 

[creation-is-chaos]

Random Inquiries | Highly Selective

@centurydigitalgossip​ Inquired:

Century calls on you for an interview Mr Deville! We are professionals who want to get your story out to our readers. People are asking questions. They want to know who Corvus DeVille really is!

“Flattering but I have already given you my answer.” The more someone presses the less likely they are to leave with all parts intact. He is beyond irritated. They already ran a story of blatant lies. No matter how close he is to Elijah they will get nothing out of him. 

Jesse was upset with it. That is enough for him to make an ultimatum to this tabloid. “Century covered Elijah Kamski and deemed him man of the year twice. Now you slander him, drag my name with him. Do take your correspondence elsewhere. Mark my words if you do not - well, I will not account for the consequences of your pestering.” 

Threats are never idle from the man at all. They are promises written in the wind. Trailing in a song of chaos in the evening shroud of nighttime, Corvus seeks to rid them of this nuisance. He bowed his head out of decency but dark eyes betrayed his opinion. “Now go bother your rival competitor if you wish to play games. You will lose here. Most horribly...”

@creatorofclay​ @rxseguided​ 

[imagine-always-and-forever]

Flutterings & Tequila - Part 9

A Klaus Mikaelson Imagine

Pairing: Niklaus Mikaelson x Reader

Summary: you’ve decided to go clubbing with your best friend the last summer before college starts to take your mind off of the Mikaelsons who have invaded your life this summer. Specifically, you’re trying to distract yourself from Niklaus Mikaelson and the flutterings he has caused you. Tequila is your friend tonight. 

Part Summary: the exchange

Warnings: typical stuff you’d see in the show

Word count: 2,242

Tags:  elle88531,  violentmommabear42 (let me know if you want to be tagged or I missed you out on the tag list!)

Authors note: an update the very next day? I know, I’m just as surprised as you are. But here it is! I hope you enjoy this part and please let me know what you think! Are you excited for any more???

Part 1  |   Part 2  | Part 3  | Part 4  | Part 5  |  Part 6  | Part 7  | Part 8 

You couldn’t have guessed where you were if you tried. The drive itself had been just under an hour and involved mainly backroads that twisted and turned through thick forests. Jess and Cooper sat up front while you were placed in the backseat, ties around your hands and feet. You watched the last rays of sun vanish behind the trees as you took a sharp turn and headed down a gravel road.

A short distance later and dull yellow lights started illuminating your surroundings. Large concrete buildings surrounded a long, rectangular, gravel parking lot. Cooper stopped the car at its entrance, and when you peaked out the windscreen, you could see the outline of another car and a man in the distance.

It looked like Klaus had decided to show up for the exchange. Jess turned to his brother before glancing back at you. He smirked. You glared back.

Jess and Cooper got out of the car. The doors slammed shut and the lights in the car went off. You watched helplessly from the back as they walked to stand in front of the car. Klaus didn’t make a move to step forward.

“Let’s make this easy,” Jess said, not bothering to raise his voice too much. “You give me the box, and I give you the girl.”

Klaus didn’t move. You frowned. That wasn’t like Klaus. He was more do now and think later when he was in these kinds of situations. That box must be really something.

“Now I don’t have all night,” Jess sighed. Klaus again didn’t move. “Seriously? You just going to stand there?” Jess asked, and from his tone, you could tell his patience was waning thin.

This was your chance.

With your magic freed, a simple spell sliced the ties like an invisible knife. They fell to the floor and you stretched out your legs and rubbed your wrists. Now you had to get out the car without raising any flags. That would be hard considering the vampire hearing.

You gently pulled on the latch of the door handle. Ever so quietly, you heard the mechanism unlock. You paused and glanced to Jess and Cooper. They hadn’t heard it. Klaus was still being encouraged to join the conversation and hurry up.

Jess’s patience would be all but gone soon and you had a feeling his motivation for Klaus’s participation in this trade-off would involve you and that knife of his.

Testing the door, you applied a small amount of pressure to it. You just about stopped yourself from sighing in relief when it opened without a sound. You pushed it just open enough for you to slip through. The night was chillier than it had been all summer. You closed your eyes in realization. You didn’t have Jess’s phone. There was no way for you to get it now.

Maybe you could make your way through the forest. There might be a highway or something on the other side. If you’re lucky, there might even me a few houses. Even all the way out here there tended to be the odd recluse’s house. They’d have a landline at least.

“I think we need to remind Mr. Mikaelson of his stake in this exchange,” Jess said with an impatient bite. You froze. He turned to his brother. “Cooper, go get the girl.”

Your eyes closed in defeat. Too late.

“Where were you going?” Cooper asked as he appeared at your slightly open door. You stared at him, not moving a muscle. The door was pulled open the rest of the way with a gruff smile. He grabbed you by the collar and pulled you roughly towards the front of the car.

“Trying to escape?” Jess asked as your eyes landed on him. His tone of voice told you that he knew you knew better than that and what he had promised he’d do to you. You didn’t let yourself look as scared as you felt. Jess laughed. “Spirited little witch, aren’t you?”

You didn’t bother answering him. Instead, you look across the parking lot to Klaus, still shrouded in darkness. He didn’t move but you felt his eyes on you. Cooper hadn’t let go of you.

“The box or she dies,” Jess yelled, all patience gone.

Klaus again didn’t move. You felt a spike of hurt. You knew you weren’t as important as whatever was going on here, but you had felt something on that… whatever it was. You thought he did too. You stared at the gravel beneath you as your eyes pricked again with tears. He was really just going to let you die.

“Have it your way,” Jess yelled again.

Cooper let you go as Jess pulled you towards him and spun you around. You gasped as he held you in a death grip against him. His mouth hovered above your throat. Your lips trembled and you debated if you could run fast enough before he recovered if you gave him a quick aneurysm.

“I thought so,” Jess whispered against your neck before lifting his head.

Your eyes snapped up to see Klaus walking forward. Relief rushed through you. Jess held you tight as ever, clearly set on getting his box before he let you go. You struggled in his grip. Ignoring you, he nodded to Cooper to be ready.

From the darkness, the figure emerged. As the dull yellow lights hit him, you went blank for a moment and stopped struggling against Jess’s hold.

Elijah was standing several feet in front of you. He didn’t seem worried. More annoyed than anything, actually. He pulled his sleeves down and fiddled with his cuffs for a second, glancing up at Jess, Cooper, and you as he did so. You stared. Where was Klaus?

“Well then?” Jess asked, tugging on you to make a point.

Jess wasn’t startled by this revelation. He clearly knew he was meeting with Elijah all along. You wondered why Elijah was doing this and not Klaus. Was it Elijah that had called?

“I’m going to need you to release Miss Y/L/N,” Elijah said very amicably.

Jess huffed out a laugh. “Yeah and I’m gonna need you to hand over that box,” he said, less amicably.

Elijah watched him for a moment, his attention solely on Jess as if nobody else was there. His eyes narrowed on the young vampire. You could see the calculation in them. There was even a slight amusement.

“I don’t have it,” Elijah said calmly.

You could feel Jess freeze behind you. Then his arms around your body tightened and dragged you back as he stepped away from Elijah. You stumbled in the gravel as he pulled you. Elijah watched without a word, just his calculating gaze scrutinizing every move Jess made.

“We had a deal,” Jess accused.

So it was Elijah who had called.

“Yes and you’re very lucky that I was the one that intercepted your little message,” Elijah told him. You struggled against Jess, who was tense and alert as he thought through what was being said to him and trying to create a new plan. Elijah took a quick breath. “I assure you if my brother were here you would be dead by now,” he said very clearly, very simply, to Jess. Before Jess could reply, Elijah stepped forward, making Jess backup once more. He hit the front of the car. “Let her go,” Elijah ordered without much fuss.

“I want my box!” Jess screamed angrily. Elijah narrowed his eyes. “Give it to me!” You watched for Elijah’s reaction to the petulant demand. He was carefully assessing Jess and his eyes never strayed for a second to you or Cooper, who was standing by his brother’s side. You wondered what he expected to do against the Original. “Give it to me now or she dies!” Jess yelled and pulled your head back, exposing your neck.

Elijah seemed amused by this. You hoped that was because he was confident that he nothing was going to happen that he didn’t want to happen and that he didn’t want you dead.

“Are you challenging me?” Elijah asked with a hint of a smile.

“I’m telling you,” Jess countered.

Elijah’s lip quirked up. For the first time since the standoff started, Elijah acknowledged Cooper.

“I suggest you talk some sense into your brother before you both end up dead,” Elijah told him.

“You aren’t getting that girl without giving us that box first,” Cooper responded.

Elijah sighed. He seemed to be tiring of this game now. You wondered if you should still wait to see what he was going to do or if you should make your move now. Jess laughed at his brother's easy cooperation.

“No box,” Jess said, glancing to his brother, “no girl,” he said to Elijah.  

He walked backwards, around the front of the car, holding you roughly to him, ready to kill you in seconds. He opened the passenger door and shoved you in as he got in himself, slamming the door shut and making sure Elijah saw that you were still at his mercy.

“Cooper,” he called to his brother.

Cooper opened the driver’s door and got in. He spared one last look at Elijah, who calmly watched. He smirked at the Original. “Guys this means more fun,” he muttered with an awful gleam in his eye as he closed the door. The way his hands had lingered on your naked body came back to you in a nauseating wave.

All three of you jumped when Elijah yanked the car door from its hinges. Your head snapped up as you watched Cooper get dragged out of the car.

Elijah picked the large man up by his neck, lifting him off the ground. Cooper struggled in his grasp, but he wasn’t going anywhere. He sputtering as he tried to breathe through Elijah’s grip.

“What did you say?” Elijah asked Cooper.

Cooper couldn’t get any words out.

“Am I to understand that you touched her?” Elijah asked. His eyes took on a different calculated look than before.

Jess turned to you as Elijah was distracted by his brother. “New plan,” he whispered into your ear, barely loud enough for you to hear. “You’re going to stay alive until you prove your worth and get me that box,” he told you, gripping your face harshly as he stared into your eyes. “Don’t forget, if they catch onto you, you’re going to kill yourself,” he ordered, the compulsion washing over you.

In Elijah’s grip, Cooper tried to respond but Elijah didn’t loosen his grip enough for the man to get any air out. Before Jess could respond, before you could even think of using your magic to knock Jess out and run for it, Cooper’s body hit the floor. Elijah stood over it, a bloody and still pumping heart in his hand.

Jess moved faster than you thought possible. He was out of the car and had disappeared into the woods before either Elijah or you noticed the car door opening. You sat in the back seat of the car, staring out the open door into the darkness of the forest that Jess had run off into, in shock.

Slowly, you brought your eyes to the front of the car and looked out the windscreen to see Elijah considering the trees before him. You wondered if he’d decide to go after him just as Elijah turned to lock eyes with you.

“We should get back,” Elijah said, calm once more.

You nodded and got out of the car.  When you walked around to the front, you saw Cooper’s body in the pool of blood from the hole in his chest. You averted your gaze and looked up at Elijah.

“This way,” he said, and started walking to the car on the other side of the parking lot.

You walked by the body without another glance. The gravel under your feet felt tricky to navigate in the dark and it didn’t help that the exhaustion you felt from the last several hours was starting to show itself now that the night was over.

Elijah walked slowly to allow you to keep up with him. When you reached the car, he opened your door and you climbed inside. He got in and started the car as you numbly put your seatbelt on. He drove out of the parking lot without a word.

The entire drive home was spent in silence as you watched the world through the windscreen without really seeing it.

By the time you reached your house, it was quarter to eleven. Neither of you had yet to say a word. Elijah pulled into the drive and parked the car. He didn’t make a move to get out or even take his hands off the steering wheel.

You sat in the dark for a few minutes. Elijah was the first to break the silence.

“You should shower before you go to sleep. You’ll feel better for it,” he told you. You nodded numbly. “We’ll talk in the morning.” You nodded again.

You both stepped out of the car at the same time. Elijah walked off in the direction of the guest house. You got several steps from the doorway before you paused.

“Elijah,” you called in nothing above a whisper, “thank you.”

You didn’t need to turn around. You knew he had heard you and with that, you opened the front door and walked in.

[namorres]

BE QUIET  ∞  E. MIKAELSON

wc |  2.7k

warnings |  canon-type violence? but it’s a short lil cheesy fic so no worries

notes: this is based off a prompt from this list, “if i were you, i’d be quiet” that i randomly picked & then i knew i had to write it so here’s that

masterlist

Y/n had come to love the eldest of the Original siblings, and if she ever said she regretted it, she’d be lying to herself. Indeed, when he’d first revealed all that he was to her, she was stricken with a sense of absolute confusion, asking questions and being taken aback at the idea that her boyfriend was an immortal bloodsucker she’d only heard about in movies. They were definitely supposed to have long fangs and big noses and slicked back black hair with horribly receding hairlines — honestly, they all were supposed to look like Dracula. 

And they were supposed to look like that because they were supposed to be scary bedtime stories, not real creatures that walked the Earth in search of a blood fix, nor were they supposed to resemble people, with humanity and the urge to create empires and be out with the real world and develop connections.

But there one was, standing in her kitchen after an eventful late night, shirtless and not as pale as she’d imagined, telling her his whole story. He’d even let her see, placing his palm to her head and speaking through the memories as they flashed in her mind. She felt everything that came with them, every bit of emotion, every blade of grass between her hands and at the soles of her feet. When he pulled away, she’d asked in a tiny voice, “How did you do that?” 

He’d laughed at her, a small chuckle, looking at her with curious brown eyes through dark lashes, “That’s what you took away from everything I just bore to you? A curiosity for my abilities?”

Her brows furrowed, her lips parted as she thought, “Was I supposed to take something else away from it?” She tilted her head to the side when his gaze fell away, landing on the kitchen floor. Closing the small gap between them, she placed a cool palm on his warm chest, “Elijah,” her voice was softer than the breeze of the AC, “I’m not afraid of you. Your brother?” She debated for a moment, looking away and then smiling softly, “Maybe. But you? Never.” 

After that, he’d asked her if she would be willing to be with him more. She knew he feared her having this knowledge, she knew that he didn’t want her to ever come in harm’s way. But she also knew he was going to let her make her own decisions, give her the freedom of figuring out what to do next. Her answer to his request was a simple yes, and from then on, it was like a letter with a wax seal.

The two had been together three years, now, and she never let the idea of eternity with him escape her mind. But that didn’t matter much right now — she was happy and human, and she intended to keep it that way until it was sure that she would have forever to spend with him. 

All of that, though, led her to where she’d been then — in Elijah’s bed, tangled in the sheets, with a distinct lack of her boyfriend. He was likely down in the study, mulling over books and his mother’s grimoire, trying to solve another problem for his little brother that was likely never his own. She admired that about him, truly. But she also detested the idea that Klaus would always come before even Elijah in the vampire’s mind. 

Sighing, she turned so that she was flat on her back, staring up at the ceiling. She debated, momentarily, just going to sleep and hoping to wake up with Elijah next to her, but she knew that wasn’t going to happen. If he didn’t sleep, she didn’t either; if it did so happen that she fell asleep, it was because she simply could not outrun exhaustion, for she was no supernatural being. 

Taking her bottom lip between her teeth, she thought a second more, then shook her head. Being alone wasn’t going to work. Twisting so that she lay on her side, she grabbed her phone from the nightstand and checked the time — 3:32 AM. “Of course,” she laughed to herself, pulling it closer to her face so that she could see what she was doing as she tapped the phone icon, scrolled to Elijah’s contact, and called. A moment or two of silence, then the dialtone came, followed by an intense vibration from the other nightstand across the mattress. “Of course!” She was in a fit of giggles at this point — luck would not be on her side tonight.

Sitting up, she threw her phone to the wayside and moved to get out of bed, sucking a breath through her teeth at the cold air nipping her legs. A shiver ran through her spine, but before she stood fully, a sense of unease settled in the pit of her stomach. Why had it been so cold? The window was shut, and she knew it was a summer night. The AC was a good one, but it wasn’t that good. 

Looking over her shoulder, her narrowed eyes traced the folds in the sheets of her bed before traveling up the wall. Then she stopped, completely frozen. By the window stood a figure shrouded in black, his head ducked and his hands gloved. Her mouth opened to yell out for her boyfriend, but not a sound made it through. A hand flew to her throat, and she tried to make some kind of sound, anything, but nothing was coming of it. 

“If I were you,” the figure spoke, his words growled from his teeth, “I’d stay quiet.”

She searched frantically around the room for something that could help her, that she could throw or use as a defense. A knife sat on the bookshelf by the door, reflecting the dull light of the lamp, and she raced to get it. However, the man whispered something in a language she didn’t understand, and she flew back against the wall, held up by her throat. Her fingers clawed at the invisible hand, scratching her own skin instead and leaving the area burning.

“You’re going to tell me where he keeps the grimoires,” the man said, stepping closer and starting to raise his eyes to meet hers. “But you won’t speak. You see, if he hears you, I’ll have to leave, and I won’t leave,” his wrist twisted, the grip on her throat impossibly tighter, “until I have what I came here for.” 

Y/n continued to struggle against the magic, even though she knew there was truly no point. Her foot swung out then struck the wall with a loud thud, and the man, which she could safely assume was a witch, cringed. With one hand directed at her, he moved his other and hovered it over the doorframe, murmuring something before turning his attention back to the woman strung up on the wall.

“See,” he said, “he’ll have heard that. And he’ll likely wonder what it was.” He stepped closer, dragging her down the wall so that she was eye level with him, “And he’ll come for you. A pathetic little human who can’t defend herself.” 

Y/n attempted to whimper against the strength of his hold, her toes numbing and her eyes wanting to close and pop from her head at the same time. He was crushing her windpipe, and if he succeeded, she wouldn’t come back. He was right — she was human. She got no second chances.

“Y/n? Are you alright?” She heard from down the hallway, starting to vigorously shake her head. Tears escaped her eyes and she tried her best to keep struggling, but her body was weak and her vision was spotty and there was absolutely nothing she could do in this moment except watch. “Y/n?”

Elijah was at the doorframe now, looking in without noticing her against the wall closest to the door. He wouldn’t have thought to look there, not at first. Instead, his eyes were trained on the bed, where there were crumpled sheets, and an absence of his girlfriend. “Y/n,” he said again, turning his head and looking straight at her, “Y/n, are you in here?”

Her eyes went wide, and the witch man below her smirked devilishly, but did not speak. He had used a spell to cloak them, though she wasn’t sure for why. Even in her hazy state, she was aware of what he came for, and if he thought she was going to be able to give it to him, why would he make them invisible to Elijah in the first place? 

Her eyes fluttered as the witch’s magical grip twisted so that it was pressing against a different part of her throat, and her arms flopped to the side, smacking against the wall. Elijah’s eyes searched the area for some explanation, but he couldn’t see any reason why there were sounds coming from the room — if no one was in there, where were the sounds coming from?

Then he stepped in, and she could hear a breath leave the witch’s chest — he’d wanted Elijah to do exactly that. With a small chant, Y/n watched the vampire whip around, staring at the witch, then locking eyes with her. Her eyes were hooded, almost closed, and her skin had turned a rather sickly red, all the blood rushing to her face and throat. 

“Good evening, Elijah,” the witch’s tone was cocky, so confident that he had the upper hand, “it’s so nice to see you on such a lovely evening.”

“Well I’d invite you in, but it seems you’ve made yourself quite,” his eyes left his girlfriend’s, his head tilting to the side, “comfortable.” 

“Ah, yes,” the grip on her throat loosened, just enough for her to be able to take in a labored breath, the tingling in her body stopping just at the top of her kneecaps. “You have a truly wonderful home, I must admit.”

Elijah gave him a tight smile, one hand tucking itself into his suit pants. The other hung by his side, cuffed sleeve brushing against his hip as he looked down at the sheets, then locked eyes with the witch again, “I would love to have a proper conversation with you, but it seems you’ve got my,” he breathed in, gesturing to her, “Y/n stuck against a wall. Would you mind bringing peace to my mind and letting her down?”

The witch returned the grin, lowering her so that her feet hit the ground, then letting his grip on her throat go. With no blood in her limbs, she collapsed, gasping out for much-needed oxygen. Elijah’s lip twitched, lips parting as his tongue darted out across them. “You said to let her down,” the witch gave a shake of his head then gestured to her weak form, “I obliged. Now, I never said I would release her from my spells.” He shook his finger at Elijah, backstepping and lifting Y/n by the arm, then throwing her to the bed. “So, until I get what I came for, she won’t be able to utter a word, nor will she be able to move from that spot!”

Y/n sputtered soundlessly against the mattress, falling into the sheets and taking deep breaths. Her limbs were burning, her eyes were heavy and her vision was spotted and dizzy. Elijah stepped closer to the mattress, fingers steepling on top of it. Lazily, her hand reached for his, weak fingers wrapping themselves around three of his own. He took in a breath, then gave another tight-lipped smile, “And what is it, pray tell, that you came for?”

“Esther’s grimoires,” the other man’s tone had darkened, his lip pulling into a snarl and his brows drawing upward in challenge. 

“Oh? Is that so?” Elijah asked, stepping forward and feeling Y/n’s grip slip away from his. “Well, right this way.” 

The witch looked him up and down, blinking like the vampire was stupid, “You think I’ll fall for that? You think I’m an idiot?”

Elijah’s hand untucked itself, finger twirling the daylight ring that sat on his middle finger, “I prefer to keep my opinions of certain people to myself. Makes for easier negotiation.”

The witch let out a growl, stepping forward and closing a distance between him and the vampire. Elijah’s chin lifted as he stared down his nose at the slightly shorter man, taking in breath. “The grimoires. Now.”

With a lifted brow, Elijah looked away, then over his shoulder to Y/n, whose face was buried in the sheets, eyes closed. With one more look at the witch, he snarled, then pushed his hand forward. His fingers passed the skin, the muscle, the ribcage, and gripped around the heart of the witch, holding it with such a grip that if the man moved away, he would move without his organ. 

“I don’t take kindly,” he growled, “to people coming into my home and putting the people I love in danger. Now,” he squeezed, and the man gasped out, eyes wide with fear, “I assume you’re a smart man. Or, rather, smart enough to know when you’re no longer going to achieve your goal. Am I correct?”

The witch didn’t move to answer, and truly, Elijah’s question was entirely rhetorical. 

“But,” he breathed in, his eyes moved down to his arm in the man’s chest, “smart doesn’t describe your actions tonight. And for that,” he gave a thoughtful frown and nod, “you lose your life.”

Then he pulled his hand out, gripping the witch’s heart and watching as the man stood still for a moment, then fell to the ground in a mess of blood and coats. Looking at the heart in his hand, he let it drop and shook his head in disgust, wishing now that he’d had his handkerchief on him. The blood was truly gross to look at. 

Without much other thought, he turned around and walked to Y/n on the bed, leaning on the mattress with one knee and touching her with the hand that lacked blood. Pulling her face from the covers, his pinky rested on her pulse, weak but there, and the rest of his palm cupped her cheek. The blood was returning to its proper places, and any spell the witch had cast was now void, seeing as it depended on his life force and Elijah had ever-so-kindly stripped him of such a burden.

Letting go of her face, he pushed himself off the bed and walked into the bathroom, washing his hand. He unbuttoned his dress shirt, pulling it off his torso and discarding it to the basket of dirty laundry. Next was his shoes, then his socks, then his belt and pants, which were changed out for a pair of shorts for the time being. He then walked back out to Y/n, picking her up and fixing her position on the mattress. 

She stirred a few minutes later, after Elijah had tucked himself into the sheets, turned off the lamps and held her form against his chest. “‘Lijah?” She asked in a small voice, drawing in a heavy breath, “I think I just had the worst dream. Something about a witch and your mom.”

Elijah chuckled lightly, leaning down and placing a soft kiss to her head, “It’s alright, darling. You have nothing to worry about.” She didn’t reply, only tucked herself further into his chest. He situated them so that they lay comfortably, kissed her head once more, then let himself begin to relax. He wasn’t going to sleep, no; if a witch had so easily been able to sneak into the compound and come for Y/n, there was things that had to change. For now, he would stay alert, in case the first witch had come with any friends, and ensure that they would have no way of bringing harm to her. 

The man that lay on his floor would have to be dealt with come morning, however. He was sure Y/n would start to smell something.