#tvd fan fic

[fitzs-trained-monkey]

❄️To Run Afoul of Winter❄️

(Not my Gif.)

Request by: @unstablereader

Title: To Run Afoul of Winter

Word Count: 12,000

Warnings: Casual violence, some language, seasonal depression, segmented flashbacks.

Summary: In your human life you had been born a cripple - a frail, feeble little thing barely clinging to life. It was a miracle you survived long enough to join your siblings in becoming the first vampires. Bouts of what your family called Frost-Sickness kept you bed ridden each winter and despite your twin brother's efforts to cheer you up, life just hardly seemed worth living. When you turned, your body grew stronger, but so did your mental affliction. This is your story. || Mikaelson Family x sibling!reader || Here lies my Masterlist ||

A/N: This was written in like two days of an absolute writing frenzy. I know the request would have preferred Klaus to be the reader's twin but I just couldn't figure that out in my brain. Sorry! I hope you like it anyway. Also, one more thing. This fic is the first official fic of Cassie's Christmas at the Compound 2022 which I'll be kicking off later today as I was too lazy to do it on Dec. 1st. Thanks for being here and supporting my writing. Happy reading!

❄️STORY BEGINS BELOW❄️

Northern Virginia, Viking Colony: December 21st, 998 A.D.

"Sister?" You recognized the speaker instantly - you always had and you always would. Just as one always recognizes their own reflection, you could never forget the voice of your other half. 

You didn't say anything in reply, offering a soft hum instead. You didn't feel much like talking.

"We're lighting the bonfires," He continued. "Come along now before you miss all the fun!"

That wasn't really what he'd said all those years ago. No, your native language had long since been lost to time, morphing into a variety of tongues since then. You and your siblings were likely the only ones in the world who still knew it in its pure form - not that you spoke it anymore. You hadn't spoken your native language in so long, not even with each other. There was something lonely about it and the lot of you were already so alone.

Especially you. After all, what did you have besides dreams to keep you company in your most quiet estate? But that was beside the point.

"Really?" You lifted your head from the pile of skins that made up your bed. "They're starting so soon?" 

Standing in the doorway, the boy’s dark eyes widened in alarm that quickly faded into concern. "Y/N…" He began cautiously. "What day do you think it is?"

You had thought about that. Of course, you should have known something so trivial yet so vital to your livelihood but keeping track of the days seemed like such an exhausting chore. Akin to many things lately.

"Is it not eleven days to winter?" You asked, tilting your head. Then again, the village was lighting bonfires… but no, you couldn't have been Frost Sick for seventeen days! That was absurd.

Your twin's lips pressed into a thin line - they did that when he was worried and that was how you knew it must have been serious. For Kol son of Mikael was so rarely a worried soul.

The boy shook his head. "Y/N, it's the first day of Year's End - of bonfire season…" His voice thinned, close to breaking. "The harvest is plentiful, the moon is waning, and Odin smiles upon us. Can you not abate the sickness but one evening? Will you not join us?" He entreated you. "Will you not join me?" And oh how your twin had cherished the season so. Always first to cast his wish into the flames, always the first to dance, always the first to smile and laugh like the boy he had been so long, long ago. 

You didn't want to disappoint him, but you felt so weak. The chill of the evening air pricked at your skin and bones, threatening to sink into your very soul. "I-I don't-"

"Please, sister? Bring your blankets with you if you must, just please come celebrate?" Your brother begged. His eyes were once wide with innocence, love, concern, and yearning. His eyes didn't look like that anymore. For long since had darkness shrouded them, rendering their pine-bark depths as hollow and empty as this memory that you sought comfort in. The boy standing before you in your dream was naught but an illusion. Your twin had perished in the dark, alone and frightened, in years left to history long since forgotten. 

And the creation that had taken his place?

You weren't entirely sure who he belonged to. For certainly he was your sweet, fun-loving, intuitive brother often enough but from time to time the bloodlust consumed him entirely and that creature was not one you recognized. He was not your twin.

Just so with all your siblings, if you were honest. They all had faded away - shells of the family you knew and adored. Animosity had grown between each of them. All except you. 

"Y/N?" His voice called to you again. Oh, how you missed the innocence in it. 

You lifted your head, clutching your blankets as you stood on frail, trembling, legs. "Coming! I'm coming, brother." 

The boy grinned and raced out the door. You followed him eagerly despite your limp. Passing under the arched doorway of your family's hovel, you found the scene outside blurred and out of focus. You blinked and your vision sharpened, although now you were no longer standing just outside your home. 

Northern Virginia, Viking Colony: October 31st, 988 A.D.

You were kneeling on a patch of frost-covered grass in front of a pile of wood stacked haphazardly. Kol knelt beside you and the sky overhead was bleak and gray.

"Show me again, brother," You demanded, buzzing with excitement, though you couldn't quite remember what for. "Please show me it again? I want to see."

"Y/N, you know father hates it," He said, frowning.

"Father isn't here and I won't tell him," You argued. "Please, Kol?"

"I don't know…"

Your voice quieted. "You're the only one that can help me," You insisted. "The Frost Sickness tugs at the edges of my mind even now. Your light is the only thing that keeps it at bay."

"Alright," He conceded with a sigh. "Just don't let it touch the firewood."

You nodded eagerly and held out your hands. Kol rubbed his own together vigorously before moving them close to his lips. 

"Incendia," He whispered. A spark burst in the air before his lips with a splitting crack and before long, bright orange flames leaped between his fingers. Some in your village whispered that Kol was cursed but you didn't believe them. Your brother was blessed by Frigga with the gift that was magic and he was brilliant in his craft. The boy grinned and glanced up at you. His eyes seemed lighter then, like a sunset. "Ready?" 

"Yes," You breathed, still in awe of your brother's magic. This was not the first you'd seen of it but it still amazed you all the same. "Yes, I'm ready."

Kol offered you another sweet smile. Shuffling a little closer, he gathered the fire in his hands before tilting them and letting it pour into your waiting palms. The flames flickered and danced, licking your fingers as they sent wave after wave of warmth radiating through your body and soul. You sighed. The magical fire burned away the creepings of your Frost Sickness, postponing it a little longer. You were lucky to have a twin like Kol for only the flames of his witchcraft could assist you with your illness.

You memorized his face then, the innocent, joyous, impishly youthful smile on his cheeks and in his eyes cast in the warm glow of the fire held in your palms. He hadn't smiled like that in so long. So, so long.

Northern Virginia, Viking Colony: March 31st, 989 A.D.

Left to your reverie only a moment, the scene before you shifted once again. It was spring, glorious spring all around you. The flowers were in bloom, the trees burst with leaves, and you were once again awake - wide awake. Crossing a bubbling brook with the confident leaps of a small child, undeterred by your bad leg, you admired the beauty of the moss-covered stones you employed as your bridge before continuing on to explore the forest. 

Along with having been born frail, you had also been born with a bad leg. The bones were a little misshapen and it couldn't support your weight. Ayana - the village's healer and foremost practitioner of magic, had fashioned you a splint to help you walk, and you had since refused to let it slow you down. Niklaus had carved for you a walking stick for balance and though you couldn't run, you could skip with the proficiency of a stone on a smooth lake. You danced between the trees as you chased a beautiful butterfly through the brush when a nearby shout brought you to a swift halt.

"Y/N!" That was the voice of your eldest brother, Finn. He didn't sound very pleased. Although, then again, Finn was rather easy to upset. 

"Be gentle, Finn." A different voice chastened. Elijah. "Y/N! Come out, little one!"

This, of course, only prompted you to duck behind a tree to hide as the footsteps of your brothers drew ever nearer. 

"Y/N!" Finn called again, attempting to sound a little less stern. "I swear, that child and her tvíburi are creations of Loki."

"You had best hope not," Elijah advised. "If either of them grow to be any more clever or cunning, then I fear we'll never be able to find them." 

You couldn't help the giggle that left your lips at his statement as you were rather flattered by his praise. Their footsteps began to fade a moment later and you peered out from your hiding spot to check.

"GOTCHA!" Without warning, two arms wrapped around you from behind and hoisted you into the air. You shrieked in surprise but soon began to laugh as you realized that it was Elijah who had captured you. He smiled warmly. "Hello, little one."

"How did you find me?" You wined, pouting a little. 

"Simple," Finn supplied. "We merely listened for the sound of complete disobedience and followed that."

Elijah sighed. "Finn…"

"No, brother. She needs to be taught," Finn said. He rounded on you again. "What were you thinking, running off on your own like that? Do you have any idea what could have happened? You could have gotten lost! You could have died!"

"B-but I was chasing pretty butterfly," You whimpered, beginning to tear up. 

"I don't care what you were doing!" Finn shouted. "Do you know what a wolf would do if it found you? Or Odin forbid - a bear? It would have-"

"Enough, Finn!" Elijah demanded. "That's enough!"

"Is it?" Your eldest brother argued. "Is she too young to understand the danger her frailty will bring to all of us? You know how mother worries about her. Tell me, Elijah - look at her! Is she not so very light to carry?"

"She is but a child," Elijah sighed. He knew Finn spoke the truth. You had been born small. Even now, you were hardly more than half the weight of your twin brother. 

"Rebekah is younger and yet she is heartier still and more stable on her feet." Finn stepped closer, lowering his voice. "You and Niklaus were always so fond of her. But how long do you really think Y/N will last - afflicted as she is? By tradition, Father should have left her to the gods."

You did not understand his words at the time. But no matter what Finn said, you weren't afraid. Finn liked to worry - he never wanted you to do anything - but Elijah, you knew, would always protect you. Nothing bad would ever happen as long as Elijah was there. And even as a child, you knew he always would be.

Elijah stood up a little straighter. "He tried if you recall. He left her in the woods all the night long but the forest would not take her. A fox and vixen stood guard over her until morning; small as she is, they deemed her worthy."

Finn didn't reply, or if he did, you didn't hear. You were far too busy watching a robin make its nest not far away until Elijah spoke to you again.

"Y/N, might you happen to know where your troublesome tvíburi is?"

"Noooooooo…." You lied. You absolutely knew where he was - you always did.

"I think you do," Elijah coaxed, poking you in the ribs. Giggling, you shook your head.

"I don't, though."

"He's probably attempting to burn one of our neighbor's homes to the ground," Finn suggested with a sigh.

Elijah sent you a questioning look and you shook your head again. 

"No!"

"Or torturing some innocent animal…"

"No, we're doing that tomorrow."

"Or hiding everyone's left boot…"

You giggled. Now, that was a fond, fond memory. It took Sven two days to find his boot and by that time he already had a foot full of splinters.

"Or putting worms in someone's pillow - likely mine…"

"Couldn't find any worms - they're still sleeping," You replied with a shrug.

"Or-"

"Alright! I'll tell you!" You finally huffed, rolling your eyes. "But don't tell Father."

"You have my word," Elijah promised before Finn could say anything. Your eldest brother had some annoying traits but he wouldn't make a liar out of Elijah. 

"Kol is making protection wards for Henrick and for everyone so bad things won't happen to us," You informed them in a whisper - this was a secret after all.

"Why is he making them, little sister?" Elijah wondered. 

You just shrugged. "I know not. He said something about having a bad dream last night."

"I see, and what's that little miscreant got you doing?" Finn asked. 

"Picking berries," You answered simply. Elijah let you down and you took each brother by the hand as they began walking back towards the village. 

"Berries? Why?" 

"Snacks!" You chirped. Then you tugged on their hands. "Swing me!" You commanded, bringing your knees up. Finn rolled his eyes but both your siblings caved to your demands, swinging you back and forth between them as they walked you home.

Northern Virginia, Viking Colony: November 10th 1000 A.D.

When the world shifted yet again, you were met with a familiar blackness. The furs of your bed brushed over your skin and the midsummer night was warm and wet though the cool draft breezing through the cave made it rather pleasant. Light from the full moon shone down through a crack in the ceiling overhead but you didn't mind - you liked the nightlight. The rustling of blankets sounded on your right and before long, the dark outline of one of your siblings was creeping its way toward the mouth of the cave. You sat up and pursued as silently as you could in spite of your limp. Though you tried your best, the walking stick Nik had carved for you clacked against the stone floor, alerting whoever was sneaking out to your presence. Still, you waited until you were out of earshot of the rest of your family to speak up.

"Where are you going?" You hissed into the dark, unsure who was doing the sneaking. The figure froze.

"Go back to sleep, Y/N," Niklaus's voice whispered back.

You stepped closer. "Nik? What are you up to?"

"Nothing." His response was too quick to be the truth. "Don't worry about it. Just return to your dreams."

"But I do worry about you, Niklaus," You said. "I know you admire the wolves - I can feel your curiosity." You had always been in tune with the thoughts and emotions of those around you. Sensing them came rather naturally to you, just as spellcasting came so easily to Kol. Somehow Niklaus's emotions had always been the most vibrant of all your siblings and his thoughts the easiest to read. It was probably why the two of you were so close.

"Your magic is growing stronger then?" Nik tried to change the subject but you didn't fall for it, knowing what weighed on his mind. You stepped closer, tilting your head.

"You feel like somehow… you belong with them… as if you're meant to be up there running with the pack." Your brows furrowed and your mouth twisted into a frown. Your eyes grew unfocused and your voice took on a droning quality. "Running. Yes, running. Running underneath the moon and the stars but not the sun. Running. Yes, running on and on forever… always and forever. Running. Running for eternity. Running wild, running scared, running hungry, running blind. Running cursed. Yes, we'll all be running cursed…"

"Y/N?" Niklaus jabbed your shoulder. When that didn't stop your mumbling, he took hold of your shoulders and gave you a firm shake. "Y/N, snap out of it!"

You blinked, shaking your head. Then you looked up. It wasn't odd for you to have visions. You had quite a few of them while your brother had only ever received maybe one or two. Most were rather mundane or just complete rubbish but every so often you would be privy to a glimpse into the future. This night had been one such time, though you hadn't realized the true extent of your visions' significance. You remembered this night. Yes, you remembered it all too well. It was but one year to the day that your mother cursed you all.

"Niklaus, do you not love me?" You asked suddenly, feeling tears prick your eyes.

"What? Of course, I do!" He insisted. "Why ask such a ridiculous question?"

"Because you feel like you belong with them - with the wolves," You explained. "But I don't want you to be with them. I want you to be here with me… and Finn, and Elijah, and Kol, and Rebekah, and Henrick. I don't want you to go and replace me."

Niklaus smiled fondly, reaching out to ruffle your hair. "Oh, sweet little sister… How could I ever replace you?"

"With a dog," You muttered.

He shook his head. "A dog can't find the perfect flowers to make paint out of - not like you can. I love you, Y/N. I'll always love you."

"Then don't sneak out to see the wolves," You pleaded. "They hurt someone tomorrow… or yesterday… I don't know. Can't remember the order. " The events were all jumbled up in your head. Past, present, and future all existed simultaneously and you had no way to distinguish which one was which.

"Did you have a vision?" He demanded. You nodded.

"Things change when you go," You told him. "Wait a little longer? I want one more bonfire season before this era comes to an end."

It wasn’t his fault that he didn’t understand what your words or your prophecy had meant - you hardly understood them yourself most times and the rest of your siblings stopped trying. Not that it mattered anymore. You no longer had visions, no longer cast spells nor drew wards. It wasn’t long after that night that everything fell apart. Henrick died and your mother cursed your family and everything - everyone - fell apart. 

Finn lost himself to self-loathing. He became as winter itself - cold and distant. Though you tried to reconnect with him, it seemed to you as though that was the last thing he wanted. 

Outskirts of Rome, Italy: May, 18th 1156

It was summer if your recollection served - your recollection of the last moments you spent alone with him before Niklaus decided he was a danger to himself and the rest of you, that was. You had sought him out that afternoon. You were the only one to do so as the rest of your siblings had given up attempting to include him.

But that wasn’t you. 

It was how you and your twin were different. Kol had always been a bit of a flake, however, he was an extremely prudent one, to his credit. He would come at a problem a thousand different ways, but would never try the same solution twice. On the other hand, you liked things simple and direct and knew that sometimes a problem requires tenacity. You just hadn’t been ready to let go of Finn. Abrasive as he was, you loved him.

“Do you mind if I join you, brother?” You asked, having finally found him. He sat leaning against the base of a mighty oak tree at the edge of a summer meadow. The grass was bright green and the sky a brilliant blue - it was your favorite time of the year.

Finn glanced up, his expression unguarded as it was, displaying a lost sort of melancholy. “I suppose you may,” He said. You smiled and sat down beside him, leaning your head on his shoulder. You were still so small for your age. Despite having turned eighteen merely a week before Henrick died, your appearance could pass for that of a fifteen-year-old. You looked more like Henrick’s twin than Kol’s.

“What are you doing all the way out here?” You wondered, watching the white puffy clouds drift overhead.

Finn shrugged. “Just… sitting quietly,” He replied. He did this quite often, though you were more inclined to think of it as wallowing in self-pity. Not that you would say that out loud. The last thing Finn needed was more mockery, though your siblings didn’t seem to see that. Finn was a bit more like you it seemed. Your family and village had always called it Frost-Sickness, though as the world developed and greater advancements were made in the realm of medicine, you came to discover in later years that your condition was labeled Seasonal Depression. It was a sickness of the mind rather than the body and saw to it that your moods were more heavily influenced by the weather than those of other people. 

Thus, Finn you figured, must have been a bit like you. Except the rain cloud which hovered over his head was not quite as severe and certainly less predictable. Though it didn’t leave him bedridden as it did you, his bouts of sadness came and went as they pleased and when they came they drew him further and further away from his siblings.

“What about you?” Finn asked, fiddling with a branch he’d picked up off the ground. “Why are you here, sister?”

You shrugged. “Kol can be really loud sometimes,” You said simply. 

Finn hummed his agreement, nodding. “That he can.”

“There are days when I find it impressive,” you admitted, voice pensive. “but today is not one of those days.” You planned to continue adding elements to your reasoning until you won a laugh from him. You were the only one of your siblings who could make Finn laugh. “And then Niklaus joins him and you know how those two get when they drink together so may God have mercy on that poor, poor, tavern -” Finn huffed, rolling his eyes. “Then, bloody hell, I don’t know whose idea it was to invent Pub Archery but let's hope it doesn’t catch on, otherwise Italy will have gained a new sport and we’ll have to listen to those two gloat about it for the rest of the century.”

“Pub Archery?” Your brother questioned, raising a brow.

You nodded. “Indeed.”

“Dare I ask?”

“Well, the rules are dubious at best but from what I can tell, a mug of ale is placed on a table halfway between the wall and wherever the player is standing. A bow and an arrow with a mid-sized hook affixed to the shaft are given to whoever is currently in play. Apparently, Kol has officially dubbed this position “the Arse in Question” - he was very clear about that when explaining the game to me.” You shrugged and continued. “Anyway, the Arse in Question then attempts to send the arrow through the handle of the mug, while doing their best to ensure that the fish hook catches on the handle as the arrow passes through it. Their goal is to lodge the arrow in the wall with the mug of ale still on it. If the mug is still somewhat full by the time the Arse in Question can make his or her way over to it then they are awarded the proper number of points and they have to drink whatever is left. Three points for a full pint, two points for half-full, and one point for a quarter pint. Now if the mug falls off, or the arrow fails to remain in the wall, then the Arse in Question loses five points.”

Finn frowned, slightly confused. “And what if the… bowman were to miss the mug on the table completely?”

“Well, in that case, he takes a shot.”

Your brother rolled his eyes. “When does this game - if it can be called that - end?”

“I haven’t the faintest,” You shrugged, shaking your head. “Though, so far I think it may be with whoever is the first to pass out. According to Rebekah, there’s a fifteen-point penalty for fainting, so I’d assume at least competitive play ends after that. I didn’t stick around long enough to inquire further. I value my eyes.”

“Smart decision,” He said with an approving nod. “And does Elijah know of this latest depraved scheme?”

You sent him a look. “Elijah’s the self-appointed referee,” You deadpanned. Your second eldest brother liked to believe he had some maturity and admittedly he had more than you, Kol, Nik, or Bekah, but it really wasn’t much.

“He approves?” Your bother asked in slight disbelief. 

“Elijah’s responsibility is a facade. What is a wall of stone to outsiders, we know to be a bride’s veil,” You said sagely, nodding solemnly. 

And finally, finally, Finn laughed. It had been years since you had heard him laugh. It was a soft chuckle, not much at all, but it was there and you knew better than most that sometimes that’s the best someone can give.

“You make a fine point, little one,” Finn mused, patting your hand. “Would you like me to talk some sense into them?” 

You snorted. “Right. Good luck with that, mikill göltur.” You gestured lazily with a few reeds you had plucked and were now playing with absently. “By all means, go right ahead; although, I must warn you that the aroma of that establishment is a fine shade of brown.”

Your eldest brother grimaced at your description. “I see. In that case, I think I’ll leave Elijah to deal with them.” He leaned back against the tree, folding his arms behind his head. 

“You should go see that Sage woman again,” You prompted, entirely out of the blue. It amused you to see the blush that covered your eldest brother’s cheeks at your suggestion. He was fond of her.

“W-what on earth makes you say that?” He sputtered, casting his gaze pointedly to the sky.

“She makes you happy,” You answered, plain and simple. That was who you were, plain and simple. “I like seeing my siblings happy - all of them.” With that, you tossed your creation - a corsage woven from wildflowers - into his lap and hopped to your feet. “Now go see her!” You commanded, nudging his knee with your foot.

He sat up. “Perhaps I will.” 

“Good!” You turned and began to skip away.

“But only if you talk to that blacksmith lad!” Finn called after you. You froze. Whipping around on your heel, you gaped, staring at him with wide E/C eyes. He just shrugged, smug as could be. 

That was the last you saw of your eldest brother. Nik put a dagger in his heart and then there were five.

Now, Elijah on the other hand, was not Finn. They were radically different and Elijah got lost in his own way.

See, Elijah was hungry and he killed Tatia. He killed his love and the grief consumed him. He became so obsessed with somehow making it right as if keeping his hands clean from then on could somehow remove the stain of her blood. You knew what he’d done and you didn’t blame him but through the next hundred years and on it almost seemed to you as though he forgot. It was odd, but you chose not to bring it up; perhaps that was a mistake on your part. So it was that instead of drawing away from you and your siblings, Elijah drew closer. He viewed it as his responsibility to watch over the family and keep everyone together. What Elijah could not see, however, was that some things are simply fated to fall apart.

Somewhere Off the Coast of Cadiz, Spain: June 22nd, 1730

Five hundred years after you spoke to Finn beneath that tree in Italy, you found yourself in front of Elijah in the somewhat damp confines of a cargo hold in a ship just off the coast of Cadiz, Spain. Behind him stood two caskets and inside one of them was your twin brother, immobilized and in excruciating agony. You could practically feel the dagger in your own chest yet Elijah refused to let you free him. 

“Move aside, Elijah!”

“I’ve said no and my answer is final,” Your brother repeated. “Kol will remain as he is until such a time as Father is half the world behind us. Only then will we risk reviving him.”

“That’s not fair!” You argued.

“Oh I do believe it is,” He countered, crossing his arms and looking down at you. He was much taller than you were. “It was Kol’s mass slaughter in Cadiz that led Father right to us and clearly nothing you or I have said to him has made an impact.This was never my first course of action, Y/N. But until you should devise some other more prudent method to disway your brother from devouring the entire town, I’m afraid this is how things must be. He. Must. Learn. Control.”

You rolled your eyes and huffed, long since tired of his condemnations and hypocrisy - intentional or not. “He’s our brother and for the millionth time, Elijah: That’s not the problem! It’s not his fault if he can’t control it, because you lot have never given him a reason to!”

“That is preposterous and you know it,” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Do I?” You demanded. “It’s always you, Rebekah, and Niklaus. That Always and Forever pact - that was you three. It wasn’t us! I knew that you would make it before you did and yet nether of us were a part of it! Whenever the three of you do something, you never think to invite him along. The few times you and Nik actually ask all of us to vote on a decision, you don’t give our opinions half the weight you give to Rebekah’s.” 

Elijah frowned and held up a hand to stop you. “That is not remotely true. I view each-”

“No, you don’t,” You hissed, fighting the tears pooling in your eyes. “You hardly even notice us when we’re in the room with you, unless one of us is shouting and if either of us leaves, you might as well forget we exist entirely! I remember one time when Kol just up and left - said he was going to catch one of the bloody crusades.” You laughed but there wasn’t much humor in it. “He was gone for five and a half months and you didn’t even notice!”

“I did notice, actually.”

You glared at him. “I distinctly recall you commenting about how quiet it was one morning, after he’d been away three months. I told you he left. You were surprised and then you went right back to your book; you didn’t even ask where he’d gone!”

“I suppose I would have if such a question mattered, but unfortunately, Kol can look after himself,” Elijah said in disdain. You were aware that Elijah had carried a grudge towards Kol since the day the two of you were born. Though he’d never said it out loud, he’d always thought of your twin as a leach because he’d been born strong and you had been so frail. “He excels at it.”

“Because you don’t care to do the job!” You exclaimed. “You discount our opinions and refuse to see either of us as anything more than children. I mean, you hardly so much as look at me unless I’m attempting something you deem too dangerous. I hardly dare speak to a boy, even if he’s naught but a servant, lest I ensure that Niklaus shall orchestrate some awful accident to befall the poor lad. Both me and Kol - you see us only as another burden you bear and you ignore any attempt we make to change your mind.”

Aside from Kol, all your siblings had always seen you as weak and in need of protection - Elijah most of all. His eyes narrowed and he looked over you with scrutiny. 

“Always so quick to defend him,” He huffed. “If what you claim is true, then how have you mastered the control he so completely lacks?”

“It’s different for me,” You insisted. “My magic was different.”

“How was it different?” 

You bit your lip, mulling over your answer. You wanted to get this right, wanted to make him understand that the bloodthirsty monster he condemned was merely a prison and that your sweet, bubbly twin brother was locked somewhere deep inside. 

“My magic was more constant, I think,” You started, speaking slowly. “You must understand brother, magic wasn’t just something Kol and I did; it was something we were, it was a part of us, but I think we each felt it in a different way. He was so good at spell casting - at manifesting his very will into reality. I was always better at seeing, sensing, feeling, and just knowing the thoughts and emotions of everyone - everything - around me. My magic was a blanket, a quiet comforting reassurance that I wasn’t alone and that nature was looking out for me.” That loss still weighed on your soul every single day. You sighed but continued anyway, “But for Kol I think it was more like water. He’s always hated feeling helpless, and for him, I think magic meant that there was always something he could do to fight back.”

“Fight back?” He questioned. Your expression grew grim, eyes darkening. 

“Against Father,” You said. “You know Father hated Niklaus most but Kol was always the next he would hit. Magic wasn’t a luxury for Kol - it was his survival. When he first tapped into it, our brother knocked Mikael flat on his ass - Kol earned Father’s respect. For him magic was a thrill, a lightning excitement, power, and reassurance, both a sword and a shield, and a bonfire wish - it was everything. It was like water - and like water, its absence consumes him. He tells me often now that it’s much too quiet. He can’t stand the silence - the vulnerability maddens him. He didn’t mean to bring Mikael upon us… He fears father more than you know.”

“And you do not?” Elijah challenged, regarding you strangely. Again you thought about your answer. 

“No,” You decided after a moment. Your brother frowned, shaking his head. 

“You are not such a fool as that, lítil víx,” He said with a disapproving gaze. He called you little vixen - the fox’s, smaller, swifter, and wiser counterpart. 

He turned to leave the cargo hold, knowing you would not disobey him, but you whipped around and caught his sleeve.

“I do not fear him as much as I once did,” You amended, looking your brother dead in the eyes. “Father fears death, he always has though I did not see it then. Knowing that what he fears is so common, so natural, and so inevitable a thing, my fear of him has dwindled. I think I more pity him now than I fear him. For how very sad it is that he hunts us with no other purpose than to destroy that which reared into being. How very sad it is that he disregards the exuberant beauty all around him in favor of his hatred. How very sad indeed.”

Your second eldest brother blinked, taking a moment to completely process what you’d said. “I suppose you’re right,” He said slowly, nodding. Then he frowned. “Do you not fear death, Y/N?”

You smiled softly. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that.” You glanced towards the coffin that would imprison your twin brother for far, far, too long. “But I do not fear it as Mikael did, nor as Esther did. I anticipate it, I think. I anticipate it as one anticipates the surprises a new day might bring. Good or bad - it’s a new experience; though it shall certainly be nice to be free of the Frost-Sickness, I think. However that may be.”

Your brother considered your words but you knew they would not change his mind. For your family was frozen in body and mind and that was how you would remain for the rest of eternity. You were as eighteen then as you’d been one hundred years before… Well, perhaps you were slightly more. Each year only seemed to make you stronger, faster, sharper, and more eighteen. Time was the seal of your mother’s spell. Immortality polarized.

“I know you miss him, Y/N,” Elijah said with a heavy sigh. “But this is for the best.” 

You hung your head and nodded, allowing the tears in your eyes to spill down your cheeks freely for a little while. Your older brother reached out and brought you into his embrace, letting you cry as long as you needed. “Then I have just one request, if you’ll grant it,” You proposed, voice chipping like the stained glass windows of cathedrals you so dearly loved. 

“What is it, little one?”

“Don’t wake him while I’m sleeping?” You sniffed. “I don’t want him to be sad.”

“You have my word, lítil víx,” He promised.

Then there were four. 

It wasn’t that you forgave Elijah. No, that would take time. Rather you simply could never bring yourself to hate any of your siblings. Not even Niklaus. As much pain as he caused, as much terror as he sewed, and as much paranoia as he reaped, you could never bring yourself to hate your dearest artist. Bastard, hybrid, abomination - none of those labels ever phased you because he was still the quiet, loving brother who painted you flowers when you were Frost-Sick. 

It didn’t matter to you that he had killed your mother.

You loved him anyway.

London, England: October 16th, 1702

“I see your skill with a brush is improving, Nik!” You declared, flouncing into the second-floor study that your brother had commandeered as his studio. “You have perfectly captured the Siberian tundra. Congratulations. Though, your depiction might have been better had you simply left the canvas as you found it.” You smirked to yourself, rather satisfied with your wit, as you reclined in the overstuffed chair you dragged into the room behind you.

Niklaus let go of a long sigh and returned the brush he was working with to a basin of water he kept beside him. When he spoke, he did not turn to address you.

“May I ask what I did to warrant myself deserving of such bite from my littlest sister?” He asked, calm and fluid. He wasn’t in a good mood - you could tell. Thus you wanted to stay all the more. Perhaps you could cheer each other up. 

“I am not even that short,” You stated. Niklaus tossed a different brush, still covered in paint, over his shoulder, aimed for your face. You lept to dodge it with a giggle. “Secondly, it’s the season - I simply can’t help it.”

It was autumn in the city of London and the year was 1702, only a hand full of years before your family relocated to Cadiz and then later, New Orleans. Autumn was a difficult time of year for you as it was when the Frost-Sickness began to take hold. It had only grown worse since your transition into a creature of the night, just as everything about you had been enhanced. Though the Frost-Sickness could no longer afflict you with illness as it had when you were human - keeping you bedridden or even unconscious for days or weeks at a time - it could now do arguably worse. 

As autumn came, you could feel your mind and body begin to weaken. You felt frayed and tired and uncomfortable in a body that had for too long remained unchanged. You felt the loss of your magic so much more keenly and the loneliness that caused was far too acute. As the season wore on, it would only grow worse until you knew only misery. At that point, the silver daggers Niklaus had kept seemed like mercy, and without Kol’s magic to keep your head above water, you had willingly begged for their employ. They were your only escape from the pain that came with winter.

“Oh, how tragic,” Klaus remarked. You could practically hear him rolling his eyes. “Where’s your twin?”

“On a bender,” You deadpanned.

Nik huffed. “Figures. Go annoy him. I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to entertain you.”

You gasped in full shock. “Nik! How could you say that?”

“Simple. I pass air between my lips - like this!” He twisted around and stuck his tongue out at you.

You continued, unbothered. “I do not annoy, brother. I berate. There’s a difference.” 

“An impressive distinction, to be sure.”

“And yes, I am sure Kol would love to entertain me if he were not otherwise preoccupied entertaining someone else.” 

Klaus groaned. “What’s he done now and do I need to dagger him for it?”

“Please don’t make me think about it longer than necessary, but no.” You frowned, shuddering. 

“Now you have to tell me,” Your older brother grinned.

“I’m pretty sure he’s endevoring to sleep with the entire female population of London.”

“...Wow.”

“Indeed.”

He whistled and returned to working on that painting of his. “Well, you have to admire his audacity if nothing else,” Nik chuckled. 

You made a noise that was certainly anything but ladylike, followed by a gesture that was far worse. “I absolutely do not have to admire any aspect of him!” You exclaimed. You had hoped Klaus would have been just slightly more decent - if only for the sake of propriety. “He may be a strumpet of a man, but I am not. I am a lady.”

“I don’t see why this upsets you so,” He hummed, shaking his head. 

You huffed. “Because unfortunately, I am also his genetic copy. Therefore - technically speaking - if he’s slept with them, then I’ve slept with them! Which, admittedly, wouldn’t bother me if this were not the absolute bloody cesspool that is the bloody city of London!”

You’d expected him to laugh, and he did just a little bit, but it wasn’t nearly what you wanted. Dirty jokes almost always cheered Nik up and hearing him laugh never failed to make you laugh. Peering over his shoulder, you caught a glimpse of gray fur. He was painting wolves again. 

“Must be nice,” He mused a while later, having left you to silence for over a half hour.

“What?”

“Having a twin as you do,” He explained, voice wistful and far away. “Having someone you belong with completely, a reflection of yourself you know could not betray you nor abandon you any than the sea can abandon the shore. Must be nice.”

“Its not all bliss,” You reminded him, sitting up in your chair. “Kol still agrivates the living daylights out of me.”

“Such is the nature of being Kol.”

You nodded but said nothing, allowing him a moment with his thoughts before you asked the question he so desperately wanted to hear. “What’s wrong Niklaus?”

He sighed, though it sounded broken.

“Do you ever miss our mother, Y/N?” He asked.

You stilled. Out of all your siblings, you were the only one who knew what Niklaus had done. How he had murdered your mother. You had received visions of the moment throughout your life but particularly often in the months before it occurred. He didn’t know. You had never told him.

“Why ask me that, brother?” You returned, tilting your head.

“Because I want to know if this grief that still weighs so heavy on my soul is mine own fault or her’s.” He eyed you with a flat stare and you nodded, pressing your lips together. You didn’t want to hurt his feelings but you didn’t think your answer was one he would like. 

“I loved our mother dearly,” You eventually decided to say after a few beats of silence had passed between you. “But I do not miss her as you do.”

Nik’s voice trembled and the paintbrush clutched in his fist snapped. 

“Why?”

You smiled thinly. “Because I knew her as you do not.”

Your brother glanced up, meeting your eyes with an expression that demanded you explain yourself. You sighed heavily. It was time to come clean.

“I know what you did, Nik.”

His entire body stiffened, his eyes widening in alarm and terror.

“I know you killed her.” You shrugged. “I’m not mad.”

He drew in a sharp breath, shaking his head, his expression a mixture of guilt, relief, and confusion.

“How? W-why?” He choked out, unable to grasp the concept you’d laid in front of him.

“Because you’re my brother and I love you,” You said, smiling as though it was as simple as the words would imply. “Esther loved all of us in her own way, but that was not how a mother should. She loved the idea of children but the reality was more difficult than she had predicted and she struggled to understand her place, I think. Esther was barren, you see. She tapped into some very dark rituals to change that. Thus, we are all products of dark magic and such things so rarely receive a generous fortune from the spirits of nature. So we were all damned from the start, I think.” Pulling yourself to stand on legs that were still so frail, you wandered over to a side table and picked up the brush that rested upon it. You began moving it through your H/C hair in careful strokes. “In the end, Mother paid the price for her selfishness, I suppose. I don’t blame you. I cannot blame you, Niklaus lest I blame myself equally because that woman never loved any of us enough to save our souls and for that, I am simply unable to forgive her. I may never be able to.”

Tears slipped down your brother’s face. “But she loved you. I know she loved you most of all,” He said, through gritted teeth. 

You nodded, huffing a slight laugh. “That she did. Actually, I think she loved me a little too much.”

“You reminded her of Freya,” Klaus whispered. “Of her firstborn, the one she lost to plague.”

“I know.”

“She worried for you constantly, terrified some sickness would take you just as it took Freya.”

“I know.”

“When your Frost-Sickness rendered you unconscious, she nery left your side!”

“I know.”

Klaus clenched his teeth and growled. “Yet still you whine like a spoiled cat!” He spat, rage and jealousy now taking the forefront in his aquamarine eyes. “You never suffered our father’s rage, never had to labor as the rest of us did to please him, you were always doted apon by everyone - never had to feel as though you didn’t belong, as though you had you earn your place! How dare you take all that for granted.” 

Your jaw locked and you gently placed the brush down to avoid crushing the fine wood into splinters. Inhaling deeply, you fixed your gaze on your brother. “I have never taken for granted anything that was given to me. The sun, the moon, the stars, the trees, the rivers, the land, and more than anything this family have I given thanks for every single day I have been allotted. You, Niklaus, know not what it is to wake up, surprised that you made it another day. You, Niklaus, do not understand what it is to rejoice in the unfathomable agony that plagues your bones as it means that you’re alive. You, my brother, cannot comprehend what it is to put off sleep in fear that you may not see the next dawn - nor to fight through a hell of your mind’s own making for no other cause than for the love of family.” You shook your head, disappointed in him. “Do not call me ungrateful, Niklaus.” 

“Then why do you think of our mother with contempt when even I who took her life cannot forgive myself?!” He bellowed. His voice and eyes were hollow and broken, his soul desperate for an answer to his heart’s riddle. 

You could feel yourself begin to cry as well. Not for your own sake, but for his. 

“Her love wasn’t for me, Nik,” You sniffed. “It wasn’t mine - it was Freya’s.”

“N-no… She-”

“I grew up smothered by a shadow of love and regret that never had anything to do with me!” You cried, wrapping your arms around yourself as if they might contain the pain that threatened to tear you apart. “Mother’s doting wasn’t compassion! It was obsession! She thought that if she could just fix her past mistakes that it might somehow change how things were for us, but it was always a lie. A fairytale.”

When your older brother opened his arms, you ran to him, and he embraced you as any older brother should. You had aimed to cheer him up, but such was not the outcome. Sometimes things don’t work out the way they’re planned and Niklaus just let you cry. At the end of the day, your siblings would always be there for you - even if it was only at the very end.

“What’s worse was that I knew, I felt it every second,” You sobbed into his shirt, clinging to him like a plank of wood in a storm-tossed sea. “I saw myself in her eyes and believe me when I say that through them I know what our dearly departed sister looked like. She even called me Freya more times than I can count.” You shook your head, letting the pain run its course. “I was just her replacement, Nik. Just a replacement she tossed to the wayside like the rest of of her children - damned from the start.”

In this memory it was Niklaus who hung his head, ashamed of his quick accusations. He pressed a kiss to the crown of your hair. “I-I’m sorry, Y/N,” He said. “My minnsta vix, you are my sister - blood be damned - and I’ll never doubt your loyalty agian.”

And he never did. Of all your siblings, you were the only one Nik never daggered out of fear or as a punishment. Not like Kol, who was easily the one finding himself at the wrong end of a dagger too many times to count.

As much as his actions against your family, Niklaus especially, pained you, you couldn’t blame him. Your mother’s curse had consumed your twin brother and oh how acutely did you miss the mischievous boy you had adored with all your heart. The only time he truly seemed to return to you was around Bonfire season, or as it came to be called, Christmas.

New Orleans, Louisiana: December 3rd, 1904

“Kol, sweetheart, honey-bunch, mistletoe of mine; you had better start running because I’m going to beat your ass to a pulp as soon as I reach the bottom of these here stairs,” You sang from the balcony overlooking the courtyard of your families New Orleans compound. A wide, placid smile was spread over your face but it was the equivalent of thin ice because your eyes promised death. 

Down below, decorating the positively gigantic fir tree Klaus had somehow managed to fit through the front gates, stood your menace of a twin brother. He glanced up, flashing you the world’s cheekiest grin. “Oh, darling that’s not very peace on earth of you, now is it? Especially when I’ve done absolutely nothing wrong!”

Your eyes narrowed. “I think you know exactly what you did, Charles.” 

He snickered but held your eyes. Beside him Rebekah looked confused, glancing back and forth between the two of you. “What exactly is going on here?” She asked. Your younger sister also took a step away from your twin for good measure. She was a smart cookie.

Keeping your razer sharp glare fixed on Kol, you drew an object from behind your back - a long, thin, wooden object. You held it on display before you, twirling it like a staff between your fingers. You said nothing.

Rebekah groaned, rolling her eyes. “Really? We’re back to this again?” She scoffed and rounded on Kol. “What, did you run out of actually clever pranks to pull?”

“There’s nothing wrong with the classics, Rebekah,” Elijah cut in from where he sat with his book in the corner. A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens - how appropriate. 

“There is when its this one,” She claimed. “We’re going to be cleaning bits of Kol off the walls for a century when she’s though with ‘im!”

“Damn right, you are,” You said, eyeing your twin brother like a lion eyes a gazell. “Got anything to say for yourself… dim-wit?”

Kol grinned from ear to ear. “Why yes actually, I do.” He cleared his throat and straightened his jacket. Then he looked up, spreading his arms wide. “God bless us, Everyone!”

For a moment you didn’t move. You just glared death at him and he grinned back. Then, you chucked the crutch in your hands like a javelin, aimed directly at his face before vaulting yourself over the railing, screaming at the top of your lungs. “SUFFER THE WRATH OF TINY TIM, YOU KNOB-HEADED WANKER!!!”

Kol squealed like a girl and bolted just as fast as his legs could possibly carry him. “Is it too late to say I’m sorry?” He tried as he backed away from you, using Elijah and his chair as a shield.

“You forged these chains link by link and yard by yard,” You quoted, inching closer. “No apology can save you from me!”

“Bloody hell!” He yelped and leaped to the side as you made a grab for him, just narrowly dodging. He raced into the room closest to the two of you, dashing around the dining room table and through the opposite door. “Just because you’re a cripple doesn’t mean I don’t love you!”

You pursued him into the Kitchen. “How’s this for cripple?” You lept onto the counter and from there flung yourself onto your brother’s shoulders, tackling him to the floor. “Surrender or die!” You commanded, pressing your forearm against his throat.

“Fine! I surrender!” He conceded. You moved off him and allowed the boy to stand. 

“Mean cripple,” He muttered under his breath. 

You punched him in the gut.

It was that playful side of him that you missed. The one that would tease you with jabs that didn't sting just a little. The one who never sneered at you or yelled. You even missed his endless supply of cripple jokes, because that was him. That was your Kol and he was gone now. Your mother's curse had changed him most of all. 

Rebekah, on the other hand, hadn't changed much at all. Though she had developed something of an extreme side, her patterns remained the same. She followed in Niklaus's footsteps, wherever they may tread. She trusted and feared him. Rebekah always chose Nik over you and your twin.

New Orleans, Louisiana: December 21st, 1914

"No!" You shrieked as you watched that cold silver dagger pierce your twin brother's heart once again. The color in his skin faded to a corpse-like gray and the veins beneath blackened and ran dry. "No…"

He was gone. Kol would be locked away and there was no telling whether Niklaus would ever let him out again. The grief, the pain, and the agony were too much. You had only nearly been hanging on and only for Christmas - only for Kol because he loved the season so. But with him gone, the pain assaulted you in droves. Tears burned your eyes and you found yourself turning towards Rebekah.

"I trusted you," You whispered - heartbroken. "We trusted you."

"Y/N/N, I-I had to," She claimed. 

"No, you didn't." You shook your head, tears already making their way down your cheeks. "No, you didn't."

"Y/N, you don't understand-"

You didn't let her finish. Shaking your head, you turned away and carried yourself back to your room. There, you let yourself collapse on your bed, allowing the weight of the Frost-Sickness to crush you. Already your body felt heavier, your chest like a vice. You didn't want to be here any longer. Not without him.

A knock sounded on your door. 

"I don't want to talk!" You shouted.

The knock came again.

"Go away!"

The door opened and Niklaus stepped in. You glared at him.

"Do you not speak English?" You demanded. "Go away, I said. Trŭgvaĭ. Partir. Verlassen. Scram. Beat it. Leave me alone, it's what you're best at."

"I did what I had to do," Klaus said, eyes hard.

"Keep telling yourself that," You spat.

"He was plotting against me, forging a dagger-"

"He wasn't going to use it!" You bit your lip, your whole frame shaking with unshed tears. "He-He wasn't… He was never-" You fell back against your pillows, burying your face in your hands.

"Love, please-"

"I can't." You heaved and gasped for breath but you couldn't seem to get enough oxygen. "I can't a-and I don't want to. I don't want to be around without him - not now. I don't want this pain any longer! To run afoul of winter will surely shred my soul! I can't stand it, Niklaus! Just put me to sleep!"

Klaus closed his eyes and sighed. "Are you confident this is what you want?"

"I can't do it without him. This whole season - I can't stand it. I don't want to spend Christmas without him! Not this one or any other!" You rubbed your red-rimmed eyes. "Let me sleep through the winter, and wake me when you wake him."

"As you wish, dear sister." 

From his pocket, Klaus withdrew a gleaming silver dagger. Its edges glinted like snowflakes, though New Orleans didn't have those. He moved to sit by your side, raising his arm so you could lean against his shoulder. You closed your eyes, and a moment later, felt the chilling metal slice your flesh, lodging itself firmly in your heart.

"Merry Christmas, Nik." The words were the last to leave your lips.

"Sleep well and dream of butterflies, minnsta vix," Those words were the last you heard Klaus whisper to you. "I promise I shall wake you one day."

You knew Klaus would keep his promise, though it startled you when that promise came to fruition.

Mystic Falls, Virginia: Present Day

The first thing you registered when you awoke was a voice. Two voices actually. One that sounded like music and another that reminded you more of a rotten honeycomb - slimy, sticky, and brittle. You remained still and listened as these were not the voices of your family members and thus, they would have some serious explaining to do.

"Damon?" The musical voice spoke. "We did it. Abby and I opened the coffin."

The second voice, most likely this Damon fellow - not that you cared - sounded rather muffled. Almost as if he wasn't actually in the room. Speaking of, whatever sort of room you found yourself in was large and open. That is, everything echoed.

"Yeah?" The voice prodded impatiently. "And what's in there? What did you find?"

"Another corpse with a dagger through it," A third voice joined the conversation. This voice was similar to the music-like voice of the young girl, though it had a smokier quality.

"What?" That second voice did not sound happy. "That's it?"

"Yup. She's just some girl," The first voice replied.

"How old are her clothes?" The second asked. 

“Uh, I don’t know…” You felt someone pinch the fabric of your skirts, likely inspecting the make.

“Early ninteen-hundreds, I’d say,” The third voice spoke. How long had you been out? Niklaus wouldn’t have kept you daggered for that long, would he?

“Did you take the dagger out?” Damon demanded.

Always one for a dramatic entrance, you took that as your cue. Sitting up slowly, you turned your head and opened your eyes. Your whole body felt drained and dry and you knew the telltale signs of desiccation were still there. Two women stood in front of you, one adult and one no older than seventeen. Both had beautiful caramel skin and black hair and they shared the same gorgeous green eyes. Witches they were - mother and daughter. You could tell in the way they carried themselves. Both of them gasped in unison.

“I’m afraid they did,” You said with a smirk. “Hope that’s not too much of a problem.” Of course, you didn’t mean such a statement but for now, you were in good enough spirits to be amused. You focused your gaze on the younger of the two witches, schooling your expression to assure her that you meant the girl no harm. “Hello, darling. Would you be so kind as to tell me the date? I’m afraid I’ve been asleep a rather long time.”

What odd clothes these women wore. Instead of skirts, they sported trousers. Scandalous to be sure, but what you wouldn’t give for a pair.

The young girl floundered for a moment, searching for words but you remained patent. 

“Uh, um… I-it’s January 20th, 2012.” 

Your eyes widened in shock for a moment as you digested that information, then your expression fell into a grimace. “Great,” You huffed. Tossing your hair back, you hopped out of that cramped coffin and onto the floor of the cave. “Well, in that case, who are you and do I need to murder you both?”

Both women took a hesitant step back. 

“I-I’m Bonnie, Bonnie Bennet,” The younger one said. “And this is my mother, Abby.” She pointed to her senior companion. 

“I see,” You nodded cooly. Your mood was souring by the minute.

“We-we were told you were the weapon capable of killing Klaus Mikaelson,” She said.

You raised a brow and laughed. "Kill him? Kill Niklaus?" The expressions of the women before you were entirely serious though they quickly began to deteriorate into confusion as you doubled over laughing. "Now why on Earth would I do such a thing?"

Both witches glanced at one another, uncertain. "Well… because he daggered you?"

"At my behest!" You dismissed with a wave of your hand. "As if he could suffer me anything against my will; though, by Odin, I would certainly love to see him try. Ha! Kill him… I'd sooner let Kol have the pleasure - as long as we're suggesting absurdities. However, I will have a few choice words for him, just as soon as he comes to collect me, that you can be sure of." You shook your head as your laughter faded.

"That'll be hard, princess," The owner of that second voice you had heard waltzed through the mouth of the cavern. "The big bad wolf's got no clue where you are, so I don't think you'll be telling him anything."

He was a tall man, a little shorter than Kol but a little broader in the shoulders, with hair as black as a raven's plumage and pale skin to match. His eyes were a piercing sort of blue and you might have found him attractive had it not been for the unnerving gleam in those eyes and the sneer marring his lips.

"I beg your pardon?" You questioned, falling back into a more defensive stance at the sight of him. You didn't fear the man but something about that voice of his set you on edge.

"No one's coming to get you, sweetheart," Damon said.

You scowled, snapping your gaze back to Bonnie who had begun inching towards her ally's arrival. "You, girl! Why do you seek my brother's demise?" You demanded, eyes hard and sharp.

Bonnie froze. "I just want to protect my friends," She replied.

You shrugged. "A noble cause, at least."

"Wait, Klaus is your brother?" It was her mother who voiced the question and you rolled your eyes.

"Yes, of course he is. What else would he be?" You answered impatiently.

"Then why did he have your coffin sealed?" The woman questioned.

"Because my siblings are a rather overprotective lot and they tend to overdo my security just a tad." You huffed and turned back to the daughter. "Do you know where my brother currently resides?"

"Y-yes." She nodded.

"Very well, darling. Take me to him," You ordered shortly. Your tone left no room for debate and the women both moved to obey you but the man held his arm out to stop them.

"Woah, woah, woah. Not so fast. You're not going anywhere, princess," He said, taking a confident step forward.

"Step aside," You demanded. You had run out of patience.

The man - Damon - shook his head. "Not gonna happen."

You raised a brow. "Oh?"

"Nope."

"I should warn you, that's rather ill advised," You said, smiling thinly. Your eyes promised danger.

"And why's that, sugar?" That southern accent of his was certainly grating on your already thin nerves.

"Because I lack my twin's fun-loving temperament and all-around more reasonable nature," You replied. "Move aside and take me to my family or I shall skin you alive and tear each strand of sinus from your muscles one by one as I weave them into a nice rug."

Damon snorted. "Could you at least make me into a tapestry? I always wanted to be one of those."

"This is the only warning I will give," You ground out, eyes narrowed.

He scoffed. "Come at me, short-ass."

The insult was entirely his mistake. 

You rushed at him, dodging right at the last second to avoid his attempt to grab you. Snatching his arm for balance, you angled your feet to the wall of the cave and pushed off. That initial push supplied you with enough momentum to cartwheel your tiny body over his shoulders. Your weight combined with the force you applied, threw him off balance and you took the opportunity to drive your elbow firmly into his skull as soon as you were solidly back on the ground. Damon reeled in pain but you didn't give him time to think. You swept your leg around and kicked his own out from under him, sending him crashing to the cave floor.

You knelt on his chest and met his eyes.

"Take me to my family," You ordered, impressing your will on his inferior mind.

The man smirked and tossed you off of him. You were sent stumbling and your back slammed into the side of the coffin you had awoken in. You blinked, shaking the slight daze away. What had happened? Why had your compulsion failed?

"Sorry, cupcake," Damon gloated, getting to his feet. "I had a vervain cocktail for breakfast."

"No matter." You shrugged and straightened up again. "I was simply intending to be nice. I should be thanking you. For now I can have a little fun without Elijah reprimanding me for it." 

You rushed him again and this time he was ready for you to evade his outstretched arms. He stepped to the right to counter you but this time you ducked and slid between his legs. Twisting around with all the agility of a coiled servant, you kicked him in the groin like the simple, prudent soul you were. Damon cursed and fell to one knee, glaring at you over his shoulder.

"That was cheap," He bit out, grimacing.

You shrugged. "That was practical," You replied, smirking primly. "And so is this."

Grabbing him by the wrist, you twisted his arm and pulled it around his back, pushing him over. You positioned your fingers to perfectly utilize the fulcrum point of that wrist as your shoved his hand forwards. Damon grunted and you grinned. Then you started breaking his fingers. One at a time. 

Snap!

Snap!

Snap!

The man cursed and screamed and you just giggled like the innocent little girl you had once been but were no longer.

Unfortunately, in your eagerness to take down the man in the black leather jacket, you had entirely forgotten about the two witches in the room.

"That's enough!" The younger one shouted. A searing pain ignited in your skull, prompting you to release your grip on the raven-haired man. You cried out clutching your skull as the other woman yelled:

"Motus!"

You were thrown back into a semi-damp wall of stone and held there by an invisible force. The pain in your head faded and your gaze snapped up, locking on Bonnie and her mother. You hissed, teeth-gnashing and eyes wild. You were tired and starving and miserable and cold and they were in your way. 

Then, a blur of motion startled you and before you could blink, a tall figure in a dark suit caught the elder woman by the throat and raised her into the air 

"Miss and Mrs. Bennett, I suggest you release my sister at once." Elijah's booming voice struck through the cavern and you grinned, turning your head to the door. There stood your brothers - well, two of them, anyway - and neither of them looked very amused. Klaus moved to intimidate the younger girl and Kol smirked as he delivered a few swift, bone-crunching kicks to Damon's ribs. 

You smiled wryly.

As it turned out, Klaus, Elijah, and Kol made for quite the menacing trio when the three of them stood together on something. You made a mental note to encourage them to agree more often. The magic pinning you to the wall faltered, the witch responsible having lost all her bravado along with most of her oxygen supply. You dropped to the ground, landing in a bit of an unceremonious heap. 

"Ugh! About time you three got here," You huffed, rolling your eyes as you brushed yourself off. 

"Apologies, sister," Kol grinned, finishing with Damon by snapping his neck before prancing over to you. "We had some urgent remodeling to take care of - you know how it goes." He tossed you something and you caught the object, inspecting it. The thing appeared to be a plastic bag containing… blood? 

Huh… how peculiar.

You shrugged and tore into it. The sweet nectar inside wasn't as fresh as you would have liked but beggars can't exactly be choosers now, can they?

"Don't ever presume to threaten my sister again. Do I make myself clear?" Elijah growled his tone a harsh bite emphasized by the glare Klaus cast between mother and daughter. Both women nodded vigorously and Elijah dropped the one he was strangling. She fell to the ground, gasping for breath and he turned to you, seeming to inspect your figure for injuries before speaking. "Are you unharmed, lítil víx?" He asked gently.

"I'm quite alright. Though, I most certainly would like to know whose fault is was that I fell into the hands of such incompetent brutes as these," You hummed, continuing to suck out the contents of the bag in your hands rather contentedly. Beside you, your twin brother smirked and threw an arm around your shoulders, pulling you firmly into his side as he turned and started from the cave. The other two followed with Klaus making one last rather threatening gesture before taking up the rear. 

"I'm afraid it was Niklaus's regrettable negligence that allowed all of our coffins to be stolen," Elijah informed you.

Klaus made a strangled noise of offense. "It wasn't my fault!" He protested. "I was a little distracted with killing our father!"

"Father's dead?" You asked in surprise. Your siblings nodded. "Oh… Well good riddance."

"Thought you might say that. Now, don't you ever scare me like that again, darling. Understand?" Kol demanded, hugging you closer. Despite how he had been changed by your mother's curse, you could always be sure he would still care about you. No curse on the planet could change that.

"Ah yes," You agreed, rolling your eyes. "I'll try my very best to avoid being kidnapped while under the influence of a magical sleep in the near future."

Your twin brother poked you in the ribs in response to your wit.

"He's serious, love," Klaus added. "You nearly gave us a heart attack."

"Careful, Nik. Statements like those might lead one to think you have a heart," You chastened playfully.

The hybrid chuckled. "Only for you, love. Only for you."

"And for the occasional blonde, let us not forget," Elijah quipped, smirking to himself.

You giggled but your mirth didn't last long.

Stepping out of the mouth of the cave system, you were met with the blackness of night and air even colder than that of the cavern. Snow drifted from a dreary sky and you frowned, shivering. Discomfort weighed in your soul and you could feel it begin to grow just as frigid rime creeps along until it smothers a plant. You sighed. It was going to be a difficult few months until spring. 

Kol rubbed your arm comfortingly and leaned in close. "It'll be alright, Y/N. I'm right here. I may not have my magic, but I'm not leaving you and you won’t be alone this winter."

Yes, as always, it was going to be a difficult few months until spring. 

But at the very least you had your family.

No matter what, you would have your family. Always and Forever.

Tagging: @yn-ymn-yln @r13mar @rootbeerfaygo @iiskittles16ii @fandomrulesall-blog @dark-night-sky-99 @railingsofsorrow @apolloroid @thatweirdoleigh @misswe03 @eat-cake @felinegrate @trikigirl271 @cute-freak27 @fayeatheart @archangelslollipop @slaypussypop-21

Hey there, people of the internet! If you want on or off the tag list for this series and/or all my other works, just comment or send me a DM to let me know! And if Tumblr won't let me tag you, I'll just send you a friendly DM reminder at your request. Thanks for reading!

[wearesociety]

read here | the vampire diaries universe | bonnie/klaus | e | 12k words

His rich scent—spice rum and oak maybe? Surround her, as he places two fingers underneath her chin and raises her head to meet his gaze. Piercing ink-blue eyes stare into hers.

A warmth spreads on her skin.

He licks his lips. Senusal, it pulls at her gut. “It’s a maze until someone reaches out, then you're found.”

or

Bonnie finds herself entangled with a man, she knows she won’t survive.

[wholoveseggs]

Moonlight {Masterlist}

As Emma navigates a life filled with abuse and darkness, a chance encounter with Klaus and Elijah, who she believes to be demons, sets in motion a tale of forbidden desires, ancient pacts, and the struggle between light and darkness. Will Emma succumb to the darkness or find liberation?

Now that I have you all significantly horny.. ahem.. sorry... intrigued. I've decided to post my longest work. I basically wrote it in a fugue state all September / October. I will be putting specific warnings for each chapter as they come out, there is smut and violence in some but I'll tag those chapters accordingly. {Main - Masterlist}

NOTE: I'm no longer posting this fic on tumblr, please go to A03 for the remaining chapters! Link is here

{Smut 🌹 - Graphic Violence 🔪- Drug Use 💊}

Chapter One- Chapter Two- Chapter Three- Chapter Four- Chapter Five- Chapter Six- Chapter Seven- Chapter Eight- 🔪 Chapter Nine-🔪 Chapter Ten-🌹 Chapter Eleven- Chapter Twelve- Chapter Thirteen- Chapter Fourteen-💊 Chapter Fifteen- Chapter Sixteen- Chapter Seventeen-🌹 Chapter Eighteen- Chapter Nineteen- Chapter Twenty-🔪 Chapter Twenty-One-🔪 Chapter Twenty-Two-🔪 Chapter Twenty-Three-🔪 Chapter Twenty-Four-🌹 Chapter Twenty-Five- Chapter Twenty-Six- Chapter Twenty-Seven-🌹 Chapter Twenty-Eight-🌹 Chapter Twenty-Nine-

[pentopaper23]

Mating Call

“I don’t know what you mean!” Caroline screams, the vervain ropes cutting into her wrists, “It’s Stefan! I loved Stefan!”

“Lies!” The witch yells flicking her hands so the ropes around Caroline’s wrist tighten, “Lies! You love someone else!” Caroline sobs her head falling forward so her chin rests on her chest.

“Why does that matter!? His dead!” She yells avoiding her daughter’s and Hopes eye line. The three girls were huddled in the corning of the room, Hope having thrown a protective shield around them, the blue glow shimmering in the dark dankness of the basement.

“But it does matter….say it” the witch said again flicking her hand tightening the ropes, “You stop lying or I’ll bring your daughters in to this!” The witch yelled, the walls of the house shook and the glass in the windows shattered. Caroline felt her eyes roll into her heads as a stabbing pain engulfed her.

“KLAUS!” Caroline screamed as she felt blood start pouring out of her nose. She noticed that Hope’s shield flickered at the mention of her father’s name.

“Its Klaus! I love Klaus” Caroline sobbed her head falling so her chin rested on her chest. The witch lowered her hand and smirked.

“No why was that so hard?” she spat as sparks flickered from her fingertips and Caroline felt the ropes tighten again.

“Why are you doing this?” Caroline sobbed. The witch just laughed.

“Because I want him to suffer”, the witch said stepping forward to wipe Caroline’s tears from her face with a tissue.

“A love confession merely started the spell. The tears of a loved one will balance it and the blood of a mate will complete it” the witch said had she stabbed a knife into Caroline’s forearm ripping the skin apart. Caroline let out a high-pitched scream and her vision started to blur.

“What are you doing!” she heard Hope yell as the witch threw the tissue into a bowl and tapped the knife on it to flick Caroline’s blood into it. The bowl started to smoke and the meagre lights in the basement dulled and then stuttered back to life.

“Come now Hope, a witch like you should know this spell. Time travel can’t be that far out of your wheelhouse.”

“You can’t” Caroline begged, and the witch slowly turned her head towards her. Picking up the knife again she walked back over to Caroline and place the knife at her neck, the blade nicking the skin.

“Who are you to tell me what I can and can’t do.”

“He will kill you.” Caroline said looking the witch dead in the eyes, “If not for harming me, but for harming his daughter. There is nowhere on this earth you will be able to hide.”

The witch smiled and then then laughed.

“Oh Caroline…you have no idea. I’m not bring his here. No, no, no. You’re going to take a little trip.” She said flicking the knife, so it sliced into Caroline’s neck. Caroline felt blood start to pour down her shirt and she tasted it bubbling out of her mouth.

Caroline panicked her eyes flicking towards the girls shielded in the corner. She could see that Hope was struggling to keep up the shield against her daughters trying to break through it.

“Mum!” they screamed, beating their hands against the flicking blue shield.

The witch started to move her hands over the now smoking bowl, chanting low under her breath and Caroline started to feel her hands tingling and her heart started to beat rapidly. She screamed when a bolt of pain ran through her body and the last thing, she saw was Hope’s shield fail and the witch fell to the ground.

[kaizsche]

a crimson dreams edit from me to you, @katherineholmes merry christmas, vis!

Her mother had always told her not to give her dreams any physicality. To not let the world of her dreams collide with the real world. She had never heeded it, had never paid any attention to it.

Now, she was living within her dream. And it seemed more of a nightmare than a dream.

(Or the one in which Elena ends up in an alternate universe, and meets a very different Klaus.)

Crimson Dreams by VisionsInCrimson

[theyoungoneed]

The Brave Barista Part 1

(Klaus Mikaelson x Reader)

Summary: Carina Newman just moved to New Orleans not long ago from New York. While at work working as a barista she meets the infamous hybrid Klaus Mikaelson whom invites her to a family event at the Mikaelson compound. Things take a turn and Carina's courage is tested.

Word Count: 2,638

Warnings: blood, killing

A/N: inspired by Klamille and how Klaus called Cami the brave bartender, only this time I got the idea of the brave barista.

Carina Newman brewed what must have been her one-hundredth cup of coffee of the day (or of that day). Moving to New Orleans only a few weeks ago, she happened to work at the busiest corner cafe on Frenchmen Street. She loved the rush and chaos of it all, although at times it was overwhelming. In fifteen minutes her shift would be over and Carina can finally take a breath. Finishing taking an order from a table outside, a certain man catches her attention. That’s a new face she thought. Carina saw numerous people a day, some were regulars, others only stopping by, but something about this man was mysterious. He sat leaning back in his chair at the last table under the shade of an umbrella. 

Black sunglasses covered his eyes as his index finger tapped on the menu. Carina nervously made her way toward his table. 

“Hi, what can I get for you today sir?” The man slowly looked up at her, removing his sunglasses. 

“Hello love,” he said in a British accent, grinning with gleaming dark-blue green eyes which stared into the soul. They were like hooks digging deep, enchanting, hypnotizing, intriguing, wanting to know more. Strands of his dark blonde hair swayed in the wind. Carina now had a closer look at the man, she absolutely thought he was attractive. Little did she know, she had been staring at him for a good ten seconds until she was brought back to reality when she realized he was speaking to her. 

“I’m sorry,” she cleared her throat, “what did- what did you order?” The man chuckles to himself looking down at the ground. 

“It’s alright love, I tend to have that sort of effect on people, being charming and taking their breath away, “ he said in a cocky tone of voice grinning alluringly. Carina gives out a nervous laugh trying to hide her flushed face and a nervous habit of fidgeting with her pen when taking orders. 

“I’ll have a cup of your finest hot coffee with one cream and no sugar.” 

“One cream and no sugar, coming right up.” She smiled as she turned around going back inside. Carina was burning hot with embarrassment. She allowed herself to take a few deep breaths behind the counter before making his coffee. Who was he? She felt as if she was being put in a trance. His confident demeanor made her heart skip a beat and create butterflies in her stomach. Carina anxiously prepared his order hoping to not mess anything up. She even added a cheesy touch of her signature latte art heart. Carefully, without spilling, she brought his cup of coffee and placed it before him. 

“Thank you, love.” He seemed satisfied with the heart. 

‘Enjoy,” she tells him. Right as she was about to leave the man stops her. 

“You’re not from around here, are you?” 

“No-I um just moved here two weeks ago from New York.” 

“What brings you to New Orleans?” He studied her slowly moving his eyes to the nametag on her shirt. “Carina,” he points out. 

“Just Cari is fine,” she tells him. “To answer your question, I moved here to get away from complicated family drama.” 

“Now that we have something in common,” he says, taking a sip of his coffee. Carina lets out a heavy sigh. 

“Family. You can’t live with them, you can’t live without them, am I right?”

“I couldn’t agree more, love.” Every time he said the word “love” Carina would get shivers down her spine. Anxiously she played with her fingers trying to buy time until her shift was over and make small talk. 

“So, have you been here long or-” He lets out a sharp chuckle as if the question was some sort of inside joke. 

“I used to live here a long time ago with my family. It feels as if a hundred years have gone by, but now we recently moved back.” He traced the rim of the cup with his finger and displayed a wide cheeky grin. Carina noticed he was finished with his coffee. 

“I can get you another one if you want,” she said, grabbing the empty cup. 

“No, that’s alright love,” he replied getting up from his chair. He was taller than I expected, she thought. Intimidating even. “Carina?” he asked. “My family is throwing a ball tonight and I was wondering if you would like to attend?” Carina hesitates. She only just met this mysterious man, let alone doesn’t even know his name. 

“I- I don’t know. I don’t even know your name.”

“Pardon me, love, where are my manners? Klaus Mikaelson.” That’s a name, she thought. 

“Klaus,” she said. “That’s an old name. “ He chuckles at her remark.

“Here,” he reaches into his inside jacket pocket and hands her a white envelope. 

“This is the invitation. The address is on the back. I hope to see you, Carina.” His side smile made her blush. Carina looked down at the white envelope and opened the invitation which read: PLEASE JOIN THE Mikaelson Family THIS EVENING AT SEVEN O’ CLOCK FOR DANCING, COCKTAILS, AND CELEBRATION. Before Carina had a chance to say anything else, she looked up and he was gone.

The dress hugged her body, the off-white fabric laid against her beautiful pale skin. Her light brown hair was in wavy curls, cascading down her shoulders. After touching up her makeup and applying some lip gloss, Carina was ready to leave. She took a taxi to the address on the invitation. During the ride, Carina’s stomach was in knots. She had no family here, no friends, how can she trust a stranger she has only met a few hours ago? The location of the ball was at the Abattoir in the French Quarter. It was a very large house dating back to the 17th century. 

The light brown bricks shone under the setting sun. Two floors of the house contained porches that stretched around the building. Carina got out of the taxi, her white heels clicking behind her. Flocks of people started entering the building with shining gowns, fancy suits, and masquerade masks. The place was grand. Bright blue lights flashed all around, glitter fluttered down from above, with acrobats hanging from the ceiling on pieces of cloth. Fire breathers and tall towers of flowing champagne were everywhere. 

Carina scoured the room for Klaus. Her eyes gazed through the crowd, wandering, searching. Suddenly she feels a presence behind her. 

“Carina,” said a voice. She turned around and their eyes met. His black suit and dark blue tie fit him nicely. “Thank you for coming, you look beautiful.” Carina blushed at the compliment. 

“Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself.” Carina admired the place. “Wow I can’t believe you live here, it’s beautiful.” 

“It has been in the family for centuries. 

“Really? I didn’t know you were royalty,” she teased. 

“Would you care for a dance, love? A King needs his queen.” Carina bit up her lip. 

“I’d love one,” she replied. He gently took her by the hand and guided her onto the dancefloor. His fingers brushed the side of her waist before placing his hand on the small of her back. They held each other’s hands as they swayed slowly from side to side. Carina softly placed her hand on his shoulder. Their cheeks were almost touching. The two of them took in the moment not saying a word, letting the music sweep them away. Carina’s heart was pounding out of her chest as they danced. She tried to control her breathing but the presence of him being so close to her made it impossible. 

“Are you alright, love?” He looked at her with deep concern. 

“Yes, I’m just a little bit nervous, that’s all.” 

“There’s nothing to be nervous about. You’re with me,” he tells her, smiling.  His facial expression was alluring. Klaus gazed into her eyes as he cupped her cheeks in his hands, leaning closer. 

“You are alright,” he stated. “There is nothing to fear.” His shrunk and dilated as they stared into Carine’s eyes intensively. Slowly, he removed his hands from her cheeks. 

“Now love, how are you feeling?”

“I am alright and there is nothing I should fear,” she replied. Confused, Carina broke away from his stare blinking rapidly. It felt as if she had been hypnotized. She didn’t know how or why but she knew she no longer felt nervous. 

“Wow,” Carina said surprisingly. “I don’t feel nervous anymore. How did you?-

“He compelled you, darling,” said a woman in a tight shimmering black dress with blonde hair. Carina gave her a quizzical look. 

“He what?”

“Oh come on brother. You know better than to compel your date.” Brother? Carina turned to Klaus. 

“What is she talking about?” 

“No need to worry about that, love,” Klaus told her. “Carina, meet my lovely annoying sister Rebekah. Rebekah, Carina.” 

“Charmed,” she said, faking a smile. Suddenly a man approaches us bringing Klaus into a big embrace.

“Klaus Mikaelson!” 

“Marcel, fancy seeing you here.” The man puts his hands on Klaus’s shoulders. “Let’s get you a drink. I have a lot of important things to tell you.” Klaus quickly glances at Carina and then back at the man. 

“Marcel, this is Carina.” The man turned around to face her. 

“Pleasure to meet you. Me and Klaus go way back.”  The two made small talk until Marcel slowly whispered something into Klaus’s ear which made his jaw tighten. Carina couldn’t help but notice the grave expression on his face. 

“Rebekah, would you be so kind and take Carina to get something to drink while I have a little chat with Marcel?” 

“Why do I have to?” she whined. 

“Go or I’ll compel you, little sister.” That word again. Before Carina had time to process, she was staring deep into Klaus’s eyes. 

“You will go with my sister and have a drink. Forget everything you heard her say. I will find you shortly.” Next thing she knew she was at the bar staring at a full shot of glass of vodka. Carina watched as Rebekah drowned down a shot, slamming it on the bar counter. 

“Your turn.” Deep down Carina didn’t want to drink, but she couldn’t shake off the feeling that she had to. The alcohol burned her throat as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. 

“So, is Klaus your only brother?” 

“No, I have three other older brothers, but they’re not here tonight,” she says, taking a sip of champagne. 

“How come?” 

“Family squabbles tend to push them away,” she tells her. It was obvious to Carina that Rebekah did not want to engage in any sort of conversation with her. Although, there was something Carina was curious to get off her chest. 

“Earlier, I couldn’t help but overhear the word compel being thrown around-”

“Listen sweetheart. You seem like a nice girl, but I would rather be anywhere else than be sharing a drink with you. Oh, and by the way,” she continued, “stay away from Klaus. He is not who he thinks he is and frankly, you do not want to stick around and find out. Cheers.’” she said walking away leaving Carina all by herself. At this point, she wanted to leave the party alltogether, until she felt a gentle touch at the small of her back. 

“Are you alright, love?” Klaus asked, holding two champagne glasses. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she lied. 

“It seems like you need a drink,” he tells her, handing her a glass of champagne. 

“I think I’m going to need more than that,” she chuckles. “Thank you.” Klaus watched as she drowned down her champagne, clearly seeing she was agitated. 

“Don’t mind my sister Rebekah she can be-” 

“A bitch,” Carina interrupted. Klaus laughs at her response. 

“But in all seriousness, you shouldn’t let her get to you.” 

“Duly noted.” They stare into each other’s eyes before Carina broke eye contact. 

“She got all mad because I mentioned the word compel and I don’t even know-

“Listen, there are some things that are hard to explain-” 

“What is hard to explain? What’s going on here? It’s like part of me feels like I am in some sort of hypnosis doing things I don’t want to do but for some weird reason have to.”

“Carina listen-”

“No, you listen.” Carina became furious. “Who are you? Your sister told me you are not who you really are and that I should stay away from you.” 

“Do you want to know who I am? I am a man damaged by his demons. I don’t want to be controlled by them. I admit that I may not be the one for you because of it. Yes, there are things you do not know about me but it is best for your protection that you do not know.”

“Protection? Protection from what?”  His mouth slightly opened but his eyes moved in a different direction to something in the distance. 

“Get behind me,” he said, grabbing Carina by the arm. “Stay close to me.” All of a sudden a group of people in nice tailored suits entered the party. Without hesitation, a woman with long black hair quickly grabs the closest person in the crowd. Opens her mouth revealing sharp fangs, and bites their neck. Chaos unfolds, screams break out, and everyone is scattering to get out. Klaus takes Carina by the arm and with great speed sprints with her behind a wall, hiding. How did we get here so fast? Am I that drunk? Carina watched in horror as more people were being attacked and blood spilled on the floor. Carina thought she must be imagining all this. Come on wake up, she told herself. 

“Who are they?”

“Werewolves.” Klaus looked back at her and smiled. 

“I knew you wouldn’t believe me, love.” 

“Werewolves?” Carina starts laughing hysterically. “This is a joke right?” 

“No, love werewolves are very much real, and so are vampires,” he tells her. “Stay here.” Klaus ran in a flash towards one of the attackers snapping their neck. Carina watched him with great force, threw them across the room, and ripped out their hearts. I must be going crazy, she thought. She hid deeper behind the wall shaking. Forget who he was, what was he? Carina didn’t know if she should run or wait for Klaus to return. As she peeked behind the wall the odds were not in Klaus’s favor. Blood ran down his face and he had taken a large gash on his side. Not only was he being cornered by ten or more werewolves but so were Rebekah and his friend Marcel. 

Carina felt a rush of adrenaline through her veins as she noticed a broken pipe laying on the ground. Quickly, she picked up the pipe and with all her might, as crazy as she thought this whole thing was, she ran towards the werewolf about to attack Klaus, and plunges the pipe into their back. The werewolf flopped on the floor. Carina gasped out of breath. With the werewolf dead, that gave Klaus an advantage. One by one the werewolves dropped dead. All of a sudden a werewolf runs up behind Carina although her fast reflexes made the werewolf only scratch her arm. She winced in pain. 

The werewolf continued running towards Klaus but Carina was faster. She got in front of the werewolf and plunged the pipe into his heart. The werewolf fell to his knees gagging blood, yet with one quick move Klaus ripped its heart out and it was over. Blood trickled down Carina’s arm. The dead werewolf’s heart was still beating in Klaus’s hands. They looked up at each other out of breath. A smile crept on Klaus’s face. 

“The brave barista.”

[ella10pythonissam]

Lioness, by Alexis.CursedMoon on fanfiction.net

Lioness, by Alexis_lupus567 on AO3

Summary: What if Caroline had died when Lizzie and Josie were only 5? What if Cade was after them, so Stefan brought Lizzie to the only person outside of Mystic Falls that Caroline would trust?

Lizzie grew up as Elizabeth Mikaelson, the heretic princess of New Orleans, the original hybrid's younger daughter, Hope's sister and a Mikaelson, but on a seemingly ordinary day a mystery appears at the door, and old memories must be brought back to light.

#7 "You raised my daughter."

@anime-lover-forever-1127 @roza-risk-ann @demi-cool

[splatooshy]

new chapter out now!! part two of ���and they were roommates’ or whatever i named it i can’t remember tbh.

[writing-the-stars]

Can you do one with Rebekah x fem!reader where their dating and Rebekah is insecure about their relationship because over a thousand years people have let her down and reader reassure her that she will always put her first no matter what. It can be angst but can it end in fluff? Thank you ☺️ 

She Loves Me, She Loves Me Not

Pairing: Rebekah x Fem!Reader

Summary: Rebekah’s love life has been less than stellar due to a thousand years of betrayal from the people she loves most. When she begins to question the validity of your relationship because of these disappointments, it’s up to you to reassure the Original your love is real.

Warnings: Angsty, Toxic Klaus, An Act of Minor Violence (She pins you to the door). Let Me Know If I Forgot Something

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: Ah, my first official request!!! I'm so nervous and excited. I hope this meets your expectations! Thank you so much for sending this in! I really enjoyed writing this request. Thank you all for reading and please continue to send in your requests!

Masterlist | TVDU Masterlist

A yelp escapes your lips as you are swiftly pulled from the gym parking lot into the women's locker room. You were just on your way to your car after cheer practice to meet the girls at the Mystic Grill and now suddenly your back is pressed against the heavy metal of the locker room’s door. Before you have time to utter a sound of surprise at the ambush, a pair of soft pink lips slam into yours, quelling your panicked state. As you separate, your eyes open to meet the crystal blues of your loving girlfriend– astonishment adorning your features. "What was that for?" you ask her breathlessly, still trying to recover from the pleasant surprise. 

"I miss you," the honey blonde Original says, a soft pout placed on her lips– a minute display of the vulnerability she’s feeling. You chuckle at her adorable expression and peck her jutted lips. "You see me every day," you inform the Mikaelson, reminding her that you share classes and the cheer team. "I know, darling, but it feels like you’re pulling away from me," she confesses, her eyes downcast. Rebekah missed the intimacy between the two of you. The late-night conversations where you would give her little pieces of your soul. The looks you gave her whenever she would tell you stories from her past as if she was the most fascinating being in the universe. The way your fingers would trail her body, setting fire to her icy skin, or how your eyes would ravish her, making her feel unequivocally beautiful. The praises that would fall from your lips for things she felt were ordinary about herself. 

You made Rebekah feel extraordinary, but most importantly, you made her feel loved– truly and deeply. A feeling she has been chasing for 1,000 years but had always been stripped from her. With the recent amount of time you two have spent apart from one another, seeds of doubt have been planted in the mind of the Original– fear of the same cycles of past lovers repeating themselves. Klaus’s manipulative comments about your loyalty only furthering their development. 

"Ah, little sister, you have been so foolishly blinded by love once more," the Original Hybrid taunts the honey blonde after your quick and sudden departure from the manor. You were supposed to be having a movie night, but Elena’s urgent call for your help terminated the evening with your girlfriend. You promised to make it up to Rebekah who assured you it was okay; however, the youngest Mikaelson couldn’t help but worry, beginning to see early signs of old patterns in her previous relationships. 

"Y/N is deceiving you and you have again allowed yourself to be manipulated," Klaus continues, undermining the bond you share with his sister.

"She is not, you narcissistic wanker," Rebekah defends you, but can’t deny her steady growing doubt. The hybrid's eyebrows raise at his sister's defense but is only encouraged to test the strength of her faith. "Is that so? Tell me, sister, where has she been since you helped her save her precious Elena?" he questions– a mischievous grin growing as he watches the cracks in Rebekah's steadfastness begin to show. 

"Is that what this is?" you laugh, amused by the method Rebekah went through to grab your attention. “Angel, if you wanted to spend more time with me, all you had to do was ask. You didn't have to jump me," you tell her sincerely. Rebekah looks at you, a delighted smile gracing her features. She feels foolish for ever doubting your love. You bring your lips to hers, gently moving them in a sweet manner. Your hands caress her face softly, setting off the warmth she missed so deeply– the insecurities melting with your touch. 

However, the intimate moment is interrupted by the chirp of your phone, indicating a text notification and pulling you away from your girlfriend. An agitated sigh leaves Rebekah as you retrieve the device from the pocket of your sweats– the screen revealing a message from Caroline wondering why you have yet to show up to the Grill, reminding you of your previous engagement. "I have to go," you announce to the Original, leaving her feeling conned as you once again choose something else over her. 

“I can’t believe it,” Rebekah scoffs, concluding that once again her heart has led her to be exploited. “What?” you ask her– eyebrows furrowed in confusion at her sudden shift in attitude. Anger rises in her at her perceived humiliation and your supposed betrayal. Under the influence of her heightened emotion, Rebekah once again slams you against the locker room door– your shirt tightly fisted in her manicured hand– all of her rationality abandoned. 

"I don't appreciate being used, darling. It hurts," Rebekah remarks, eyes red and fangs protruding from her glossed lips. The use of your pet name now becoming more sardonic than loving. “Rebekah, I don’t know what you’re talking about. No one’s been using you,” you speak with fear-laced urgency, denying the vampire's accusation. The terror in your wide eyes brings Rebekah realization as to what she is doing and just as quickly as she latched her hand to your shirt, she releases you– taking a few steps back. 

Guilt penetrates her fury and she sinks to her knees, overwhelmed by her conflicting emotions. Tears spill from your girlfriend’s eyes and you watch as she crumbles, confused, yet concerned about her nonetheless. 

You hesitantly move towards the Original vampire, alarmed by her erratic display of emotions and frightened she will lash out at you again. Broken apologies fall from her lips profusely, eradicating any fear you held towards her. Your compulsory need to comfort the woman that you love overrides everything else. "Rebekah, angel, what's wrong? Talk to me," you soothe the honey blonde, kneeling before her weeping form. "Ever since I helped you save that bloody Doppelgänger Wench, you've been distant with our relationship. It’s started to make me feel as if you manipulated me into helping her," the Mikaelson girl informs you– remorse engulfing you for causing her despair. 

The rivalry between the Mikaelsons and your friends has haplessly left you in the middle trying to balance your relationship with Rebekah and your friendship with the girls. You've been rampantly trying to appease everyone, catering to the most demanding of the two– who happened to be your friends– unwittingly neglecting your girlfriend in the process. Given her long history of failed relationships and disappointments by the people she loves most, you can see how she readily believed you were just another individual looking to take advantage of her. 

"Bex, look at me," you speak softly, lifting the blonde vampire's face to yours. 

"I would never intentionally hurt you. I love you and I am so sorry I haven't been showing you that as of late. I was so busy trying to keep my friends happy that I never noticed I was ignoring you. I promise you I will never allow that to happen again. You mean so much to me and I’m so lucky to have you. And I’m going to show you that from now on. You are my first priority no matter what."

Rebekah's water-stained eyes stare back into yours, a delicate smile brightening her sweet features. She was moved. No one in her 1,000 years of living had ever listened to and considered her feelings– no one had shown her as much love as you have in this moment. You once again made her feel extraordinary. There is no longer a doubt in her mind that the love you two share is more than a fabricated lie– it is real and it is genuine.

You giggle uncontrollably as your face is peppered in kisses– Rebekah overcome with the love she has for you. The ringtone of your cellphone interrupts your shared moment of jubilation and a frown draws on Rebekah’s lips as you answer it.  

"Y/N, where are you? We have been wait-" Caroline begins, but you cut off her annoyed prattle, informing her that you will be spending time with your girlfriend. An agitated huff leaves the 17-year-old at your choice of Rebekah over them and she quickly ends the call. A wide grin replaces the frown that previously adorned your girlfriend’s face as you fulfill your promise to her– plus she loves that she still managed to get under Caroline’s skin.

"Now where were we?" you ask, pulling Rebekah into you. As if your words were not convincing enough, your lips certainly inform Rebekah that your love for her is real.

[cancerian-woman]

are you ever going to write a Kennett fic?

I might if I feel up to it. I’d have to be in a Kennett mindset though and I don’t even read their fics anymore rn. I am pro-Bonnie’s non-canon ship that is one ship I stay away from now because it’s became a secondary ship to KC, especially on ao3 or in other spaces. When it comes to looking for newer content. You can’t have Kennett w/out KC and I prefer my Bonnie ships to actually be about her and not because Caroline needs a bestfriend/fix-it-witch at her disposal. Bonnie’s more than that.

Thank you for the ask! 💜💜

[voidmaisiesstuff]

Not My Fault (a tvdu fan fiction)

[ the originals season five ]

Charlotte Mikaelson never had a chance at a normal childhood. Born into a city in the middle of a war. Never having a chance to know her own mother who died the very day she came into existence. A father imprisoned for the first five years of her life, only to meet briefly and be separated yet again for what seemed for good. That's not even covering the whole supernatural side of things.

Being kidnapped before she was even a kid to be napped. Magically ripped from her mothers womb and put into the one of her fathers crazy exes. Then being put into the arms of yet another of her fathers ex lovers. To be raised alongside her older sister by a woman with no true connection of her own.

reneé rapp as charlotte 'charlie' mikaelson

fifteen | homosexual | witch (untriggered tribrid)

auli'i cravalho as rayna 'rae' waters

fifteen | pansexual | werewolf

story pairing (rayna x charlotte)

~ more edits ~

[fitzs-trained-monkey]

Err on The Side of Awesome

(Not my gif)

Kol Mikaelson's Daughter Headcanons

Requested by: @katherinereilly19

Here lies my Masterlist

You were adopted by Kol and Davina Claire-Mikaelson at age six from a Catholic orphanage run by nuns who all thought you were some sort of demon child.

See, like your adopted father, you were a witch and had come into your power rather early. Davina had been sensing some odd power flares in the area and, when she and Kol had gone to investigate, there you were - a sweet, little bundle of mischief with more power than you knew what to do with.

To say that you had Kol wrapped around your little finger from the first second he saw you would be no exaggeration. Seriously. 

Kol had never thought himself fit to be a husband, let alone a parent. It still baffles him some days that Davina agreed to marry him - most days in fact - it just seemed too good to be true. They traveled the world for a while and then… Well, Davina, she…

She said she wanted kids.

She didn't say that she used to want kids or that she would have wanted them had she married someone else. Davina said she wanted to be a mom. With him. She said she wanted to have a kid with him and she wanted Kol to be that kid's dad.

At first, he almost thought it was a joke. Who in their right mind would trust him with a child? But no, Davina was serious. 

And it terrified him.

Kol is well aware of just how miserably his parents screwed up their job and he's pretty sure he couldn't do any worse but that doesn't mean he'd do well.

But the guy took just one look at you and he knew without a doubt that there was no alternative realm, no obscure future, and no minuscule probability in which he could cause you any harm.

For the first little while, you were convinced (thanks to the nuns) that you would have to be an absolute angel of a child in order to be wanted by your new parents. You helped clean things, refrain from using your magic, made your bed, brushed your teeth, and never asked for anything.

Three months in, you dropped a plate and broke down crying, begging Mr. and Mrs. Claire-Mikaelson (because you wouldn't dare call them mom and dad) not to send you back.

What began as your average Tuesday afternoon turned into a deeply formative experience when Kol sat you on his knee, looked you in the eyes, and said:

"Y/N, darling, I want you to listen to me very closely, alright? There is absolutely nothing on this earth you can do or say that will make your mother and I love you any less. There is no such thing as good enough - there is no bar you have to meet - only what you are. Now, a plate is infinitely replaceable, but you are our daughter and I will love you until the end of time. That makes you infinitely more valuable than a plate. Okay?"

"O-okay… dad?"

That was a day you never forgot as you grew older. 

Speaking of growing, no matter how old you get, Kol can and will pick you up by the ankle and hold you upside down. It never gets old.

Also, piggy-back rides.

You did go through a phase where you were convinced there was a monster in your closet.

"Dad! There's a monster in my closet and it wants to eat my toes!"

"Really? Well, I must applaud the audacity."

There were quite a few nights you spent cuddled up between them as Davina braided your hair and Kol told you a story until you fell asleep. 

Kol always refers to you and Davina as "his girls".

He's always willing to play with you, whether it be a game of tag or a complex drama plot with your dolls. (His personal favorite was when you decided to reenact the French Revolution in Barbie form.)

Daddy-Daughter Days are 100% a thing. The two of you are huge movie and arcade goers. Not to mention huge fantasy nerds. From Deltora Quest to Harry Potter to the freaking Wheel of Time - your fascination with the fantastical never fades as you grow. You never thought yourself too old to be read to at night, so Kol never stopped the tradition.

You're a little (a lot) spoiled. But not in a bad way. You're not ungrateful but let's just say you have quite a few pets.

Auntie Bex is always more than willing to babysit when your parents want some time to themselves. You remind her of Kol when he was a kid and she adores that.

Play-Dates with your cousin Hope mean quite a few headaches for your uncles Klaus and Elijah. Aunt Hayley thinks you're absolutely hilarious while Aunt Cami is convinced you're like 4 different varieties of insane. She might have a point there.

When you're old enough to be in school, you can always count on your parents to help you with your homework. You never would have made it through middle or high school without your dad, Kol is insanely good at math and chemistry. However, when it comes to anything to do with history or government, he passes the torch to Davina because even though he lived through it, he literally never paid enough attention to remember anything.

Parent-Teacher conferences are always interesting. 

"Y/N is so intelligent. Truly a joy to have in class."

"Is she now?"

Neither of them buys it for a second. You have a mischievous streak a mile long, the teacher just doesn't know that you're the one putting tacks on her chair. Kol is honestly proud and Davina may try to be the voice of reason but she can't help laughing at just how alike father and daughter turned out to be.

Now, if Hope is "miraculously well adjusted" then you're probably something like a thirty-year-old in an eight-year-old body. You're like the most chill child perhaps ever. However, just like your father, your maturity level varies with the situation.

For example, Klaus once decided it would be a good idea to whip out the "You're not even a real Mikaelson" card at a family reunion. It wasn't long before Davina had thrown Klaus into a wall and Kol and Marcel were at each other's throats. 

You honestly weren't even bothered. You knew your parents loved you and that was enough so you simply said:

"I'm sorry you feel that way."

And went back to eating your dinosaur chicken nuggets.

Marcel - apparently still a little touchy on that subject - was the last to sit down again. Little did he know just how proficient you had become with teleporting objects. Naturally, you were smirking when the whoopie cushion did its noble work.

Kol is terrified that he'll lose touch with you as you grow older.

This fear never comes to fruition.

The trust between you and your parents is something every other child ever would envy. They trust your judgment and, in turn, you trust the very few restrictions they put in place for you. It's crazy because they honestly never get mad. Like ever.

However, their disappointment is the worst thing you'll ever endure. 

 They told you not to go out one night because an old enemy of Klaus' was wandering around town. You went out anyway and you were attacked. Now, you were powerful enough to fight off your assailant and kill him, but you didn't come out of that fight unscathed. You had to limp home and tell your dad what had happened. 

"Are you mad at me?"

"No. I've done much worse in my life, for much dumber reasons. To be mad at you would make me a hypocrite. I just know you're better than this - Y/N, you've shown me that you're better than this. I'm not angry with you. I'm just extraordinarily disappointed."

It happens only once and never again.

Growing up with those two for parents ensured that you quickly mastered your magic and became one of the most powerful and skilled witches of all time. But don't think for a second that you would ever be used. They would never allow that to happen.

As you reach middle and high school, a rumor begins going around that your dad is a vampire. You just snort really loud and make no further comment. It leaves everyone wondering.

First boyfriend?

Heaven help the poor sod. 

"If you ever lay your hands on my daughter against her will, you will find that you no longer have hands. I will use the bones of them to fashion myself a new pen, with which I shall write your death certificate. Do I make myself clear?"

Once you're old enough, the basement becomes something of a witchy lab space.

Explosions are… frequent.

*Coughing* "Thank goodness your mother wasn't home for that one."

"Think again, Mikaelson."

"Oh shi-"

"Uh… Hi mom!"

You're probably the healthiest Mikaelson.

When the time comes for you to graduate, it's a hard dose of reality for Kol. He understands he has to let you live your life and he would never dream of taking that away as it was taken from him, but it's just hard.

You'll never stop being his little girl.

Special thanks to: @her-violent-delights

[the-stars-sigh-when-i-get-high]

What are your opinions on “Fan in Fandom” Fanfics?

I have never really seen this tag used but there are so many fics like this…the tags are usually mixed with the Reincarnation and Self-Insert tags…which aren’t always about Fans ending up in Fandoms and fucking shit up 💀

I once came across a fic where the MC literally Blue’s Clues Skidoo’d into a fandom through their tv or computer…sometimes it’s not even a fan, I’ve read a few where the MC is just the best friend or cousin of a fan.

Anyways…what are your opinions on them? Good, Bad? I wanna know👀 mostly just cuz I’m nosy asf🤪

If you could leave a more in-depth explanation in the comments that would be great!!! Even if the poll is no longer active. Pls leave a comment anyways🥹

[wearesociety]

it’s easy for her to lie to all of them, to mask her pain, to let it ruin her but with him… it’s the pain in her eyes he first sees.

or

a burnout, depressed bonnie just really needs someone and that someone is always— always— him. Kol Mikaelson, her childhood best friend and (adopted brother).

[pentopaper23]

“Now that’s no way to speak to a lady”

Caroline was chewing on her thumb nail as she nervously paced in from of the ornate wooden door. After the funeral she didn’t know where to go. She couldn’t go home, where she would drown under her grief while being surrounded by her mother’s things and she couldn’t burn her house down like Elena. She did the only thing that she could do and ran, she hastily packed a bag and hit the road with no destination in mind or she thought no destination in mind. She was passing the Welcome to New Orleans sign before she knew it and unbuckling her belt out the front of his house. It had been days, and she could feel herself starting to crave blood. Her mouth was throbbing, and she could feel herself starting to get lightheaded and she was sure that she would have a grey tint to her skin.

She reached up to knock with the heavy bronze knocker. The sound of it echoed around the empty courtyard. She waited, her vampire hearing caught no movement behind the door, maybe he wasn’t home she thought to herself and for a moment she thought that she should leave and just return to mystic falls and college. But just as she was about to walk away the door was ripped open.

"Who are you?" a young vampire asked, Caroline didn’t recognise him as any of Klaus’s hybrids that she knew.

"Are you deaf little vamp? Who are you?" He asked taking a step out of the doorway towards her.

Caroline took a step backwards almost stumbling down the brick steps as her vision spun and black dots started to cloud her vision.

"Is Klaus here?" She asked, trying to look around the vampire and into the house.

"Who. Are. You?" He asked again, this time grabbing her arm, but before he could ask her again his grip loosened, and he fell to the ground his heart resting beside him.

“Now that’s no way to speak to a lady” Klaus said licking the dead vampire’s blood off his hand. Caroline let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, she staggered back her foot slipping on the stairs. She felt Klaus’s hand wrap around her upper arm and darkness swallowed her vision.

Klaus had been upstairs in his art room when he heard one of his minions yelling at the front door. With an annoyed sigh he slammed down his brush and flashed downstairs just in time to see said minion grab Caroline’s arm. He saw red and thrusted his hand into the back of the vampire, his arm coming away with a sickening sucking sound. He just had time to lick most of the blood off his hand before he saw her sway and shot his arm out to steady her, then her eyes flickered, and she fainted. He caught her just as she was about to the hit the ground, his knuckles grazed against the brick work of the courtyard as they slide under her back. Picking her up in his arms he walked into the house kicking the front door shut as he went. He walked up the staircase and took a left towards his room, he nudged the door open with his shoulder being careful to not move her too much.

Gently he laid her down on his bed, brushing the hair from her face with his non bloody hand. Her head moved toward his brushing fingers, but she did not wake. He gently bit into his wrist and dripped few drops of blood onto her lips hoping to get rid of the grey tint and smell of decay that she had. Her tongue slipped out to wipe the blood off her lips, but she didn’t wake and Klaus slipped silently from the door the door softly clicking shut.

Caroline awoke with a start and for a few second, she stared at the canopy of the bed trying to work out where she was.

Vampire. Blood. Heart. KLAUS.

“Klaus,” she said jumping out of the bed and looking around the room. There was paper littering the floor, each sheet had a half finished drawing on it, or a completed drawing that someone has crossed out with thick black lines of charcoal. Pencils, pens, and paintbrushes were mixed into the mess of paper, and she could see small specks of paint colouring the stained floorboards.

She could smell him in the room, his smell clinging to the sheets, pillows, and the fabric of the thick block out curtains that hung in the window. She could see little items around the room too, a collection of rocks was lined up along the windowsill; seven of them, all in different sizes, shapes, and colours. A stack of books was piled on the bedside table, a mass of different genes, crime, horror, classics and some nonfictions. Little piles of rings and necklaces were organized on a long low chest of draws, also upon the chest of draws was a batter old journal its pages dog eared and torn. She flipped it open and was met by a drawing of Rebekah, her hair was out and flowing down past her shoulders two thin plaits held it back off her face and she had a sweet smile on her face; one that Caroline hadn’t seen before or even believed was possible. Turning the page and Caroline found herself looking at a boy that she didn’t know, he had shoulder length brown hair and was wearing a simple green top with three strings of leather tying it closed. “That’s Henrick” a voice said from behind her, she jumped slamming the journal shut. Klaus reached over and reopening it.

“He was eleven here, we had been out hunting and he had just killed his first stag. He was so proud of himself.” Klaus says, looking at the drawing fondly.

“Where is he? He is running around being a menace in Europe?”

Klaus snapped the journal shut.

“He died.” He said sharply.

“I’m sorry I-“

“Why are you here Caroline?” he asked, still looking at the closed journal. Caroline sighed and sat back on the bed.

“You were right.”

Klaus’ head snapped up to look at her in confusion.

“I normally always am. But in what way this time?” he said with a sly smile.

“Small town life wasn’t enough.” Caroline said sadly. Klaus’s smile faded at her tone, and he sat down next to her. He noticed that she is picking at fingers hard enough to cause little spots of blood to form from the torn skin. He reaches out to place his hand over hers stilling her fingers.

“What happened love?”

Caroline sniffed and bit her lip, “My mum died.”

Klaus gently locked his fingers with her, his thumb rubbing over the back of her hand.

“I’m sorry.” He said softly. Caroline shrugged.

“I was hoping I could…um” she struggles to finish her sentence. Klaus understands though.

“You can stay as long as you want love.”

Caroline sobs pulling her hands from his and covers her face. Klaus pulls her towards him, and she melts into his embrace.

[vintageaesthetic20]

Someone help. I'm stuck i just can't go past episode 6 of the recruit and idk why.

P.s my Damon Salvatore obsession is back and I can't find any fics that I've not already read.