#((Muse; Elena))

[metamorphesque]

musings on writing

Heaven Is Not Verbose: A Notebook by Vera Pavlova (tr. Steven Seymour), Letters Home by Sylvia Plath, MaddAddam by Margaret Atwood, A Breath of Life by Clarice Lispector, Isak Dinesen quoted by Raymond Carver, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath by Sylvia Plath, from a letter to Max Brod by Franz Kafka, Conversations with Kafka by Gustav Janouch, The Story of the Lost Child by Elena Ferrante, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 1: 1931-1934

[toomuchracket]

bump in the night (dad!matty x reader fluff)

baby phoebe thinks there's a monster under her bed. matty to the rescue! once again, promptober. enjoy <3

“dad… dad, wake up.”

the owner of the worried voice shoves his shoulder, and matty jerks awake. disoriented, he fumbles for the switch on the bedside lamp; when he finds it, he also finds dylan standing beside him, eyes wide and teeth chewing at her bottom lip. “dyl?” he clears his throat, voice scratchy. “what is it, darling?”

“it's phoebe. she won't stop crying,” her jaw is trembling, a clear sign that she's anxious. matty reaches for her hand, and she seems to calm down slightly. “me and elena both tried to calm her down, but she just keeps sobbing for you and mum. don't know what else to do, dad.”

terror pierces him, the kind of fear that only sets in when you or your daughters are concerned - the worst kind, it goes without saying. extracting his right arm from your still-sleeping hold as inconspicuously as possible, matty pulls himself out of bed, reassuring his eldest before he goes to help his youngest. “you did the right thing, dyl,” he pulls her into a hug, kissing her sleep-messy curls. “is pheebs saying she's not feeling well, or…?”

“no, she just keeps crying and saying she wants you and mum. she calmed down a little bit when lena and i went in, but not a lot.”

“okay,” he rubs his eyes, taking dylan's hand. “lead the way.”

it's only a few steps across the landing and down the hall to phoebe's room, but the worry makes it seem far longer. a wave of relief washes over matty when he and dylan make it through the door, but it's short-lived - his three-year-old is shaking in her big sister’s arms, the flush on her tear-stained cheeks evident in the glow from the nightlight, and elena looks on the verge of tears too. “oh, my darlings,” he coos softly, kneeling at the side of phoebe's bed. “what's wrong?”

phoebe practically throws herself into his arms, tiny body wrapping itself around his. hot tears dampen his t-shirt, and matty can feel his own eyes welling up. he's sick to his stomach when any of his girls are upset, but his youngest is so especially sweet and smiley that her sadness seems to hurt him just that little bit more. “phoebe, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “please tell daddy why you're crying, yeah? deep breaths, munchkin, copy me,” he inhales deeply, and exhales slowly. “can you do that?”

she copies him shakily, while elena crawls to sit on the edge of the bed in front of him; even at seven, her legs still don't reach the ground, dangling endearingly instead. “i think she's scared, dad.”

“alright, darling, thank you,” he smiles at his middle baby, who returns it sleepily. “you two can go back to bed, if you like. thank you for helping your sister, my sweet girls.”

they shake their heads in vehement denial, dylan moving to join her sister on the edge of the bed. “not leaving until phoebe's okay.”

“you sure? you'll be tired tomorrow.”

elena shrugs, matty in miniature. “doesn't matter. our sister’s more important.”

matty's eyes actually do fill with tears at that - how on earth did you and him manage to create such perfect, kind humans? it's baffling. “alright, darlings,” he nods, before turning his attention to phoebe. “did you have a bad dream, sweetheart?”

tiny curls brush his neck as she shakes her head. “uh-uh.”

“okay. was there a big noise outside? foxes, or a car, or people shouting? that can be really scary, especially if it wakes you up.”

another head shake. “in here.”

now we're getting somewhere. “there was a scary noise in your bedroom, munchkin?”

“yeah,” phoebe's little voice shakes, turning to a sob when she speaks again. “like… like a monster!”

“where exactly, darling?”

“the- the wall,” she hiccups; matty softly rubs her back to calm her down. “and under my bed.”

interesting. monsters under the bed aren't exactly uncommon, but in the wall? maybe phoebe's imagination is stronger than you all thought.

or maybe… “what kind of thing did it sound like, sweetheart? can you remember?”

she thinks for a second, wiping her eyes on the shoulder of his t-shirt. “like when my tummy is hungry.”

“rumbling? why would it be… oh,” the answer clicks in matty's brain, the logistics of the house's layout revealing it to him: phoebe's bedroom is directly above the utility room, so - “it isn't a monster, my darling, it's just the central heating.”

dylan lets out a soft “ahhh” of realisation, but elena looks puzzled - when phoebe moves to look at matty, so does she. “the heating?”

“yes, munchkin. it's what makes the house cosy, and makes sure we have hot water for our showers and baths-”

“and washing our hands?”

he smiles. “exactly, my smart girl. but it all starts from that cupboard near the washing machine, and then it travels through the pipes up through your room, and into the rest of the rooms. that's what the noise is, darling. not a monster.”

phoebe sniffles. “really?”

“would you like me to check under the bed anyway?”

“mhmm.”

“alright,” he kisses her head, settling phoebe between her sisters on the bed and ducking down to scan under the bed; his back practically screams at him not to, but he can't disappoint his baby girl. “all clear down here, girls. not even a speck of dust,” popping back up, he takes phoebe's tiny hands in his own. “do you feel a bit better now, munchkin?”

“yeah,” she nods. “but the noise is scary.”

matty can't blame her for that - the bed is right against the wall with the pipework, and she's only three. it's a lot. “tell you what, darling - you come in with mummy and me, just for tonight, and tomorrow we can rearrange your room so the noise isn't as loud, yeah?”

“‘kay.”

phoebe rubs her eyes. matty smiles, scooping her into his arms again - smiling even wider at the way she melts into him - and stands, nodding at his older two. “come on, my girls. back to bed.”

the four of them trudge out onto the landing, exchanging goodnights and head kisses. matty gives dylan and elena an extra hair ruffle each. “thank you for looking after your sister, girls. lie-in tomorrow, alright?”

“mhmm. night!”

“night, dad! night, pheebs!”

two bedroom doors close, and matty carries phoebe towards the last slightly open one; behind it, you're half-asleep, but quickly awakened by the sound of matty's footsteps and, ironically, his hushed “don't wake mummy, sweetheart, alright?” to the little one in his arms. he sighs when you turn to face him, sitting up slowly and flicking the light on. “baby? what's going on?” rubbing your eyes, you notice phoebe. “oh, hi, my darling. you alright?”

“she is now,” matty sets phoebe on the bed; she crawls to you for a cuddle immediately. “but she's staying with us tonight, and i'm spending my saturday rearranging her bedroom.”

“oh, okay,” you raise a brow. “do i want to know?”

“i'll explain tomorrow,” matty flops onto the bed, flicking the light out, suddenly tired. “right now, i think we all just need to get some sleep.”

“alright,” you lean over to kiss him, dropping one onto a now-sleeping phoebe's head for good measure. “goodnight, my loves.”

matty strokes your face, and then your tiniest girl's. “goodnight, darlings.”

[literatureaesthetic]

march '24 favs:

• those who leave and those who stay & the story of the lost child ; elena ferrante — the final two books in the neapolitan novels, a tetrology recording the lives of two girls in naples from childhood to old age. gutting, beautiful, layered, and complex. this series is a masterpiece, elena ferrante is everything to me <3 (please read it!!)

• sirens and muses by antonia angress — following an array of characters at an art university as they navigate life, work, academia, relationships, and being an artist in a capitalist world where everything is commodified. the depth of characters paired with the nuanced discussions of art, class, and politics left me so pleasantly surprised. (it's also extremely gay and perfect for all you tumblr users with mummy/daddy issues)

[moonsmistresss]

i always saw lila as movement ,as the sun, the explosion

and elena as a creator/translator

in the sense that lila is this big bright flash of movement and everybody is awed by it's exsitence and it's form but it's too far and too fast for anyone to really know what they saw all they know is that it was grand

but then elena is the creator.the one who did see it for what it was ,she saw beyond the grand into to the intricasies the mechanisms of it .she sees lila for what she is not as some deity and she is also the translator because she is able to grasp the bright shining ball that is lila and translate it into our world

she molds lilas light into a form that the rest of the world can understand

[lilacerull0]

elena wants to feel real, but she doesn't know how to be real if she can't write a story about it. and she can't turn lila into a story. not quite. the novels as elena's love letter to lila, a way of finally giving lila her boundaries, but also the novels as lila's way of forcing elena to breathe and live and exist as elena greco, not the nameless girl sitting by the window. my brilliant friend as a pseudonym elena gives lila when she puts lila's words in her writing therefore making lila the writer too and my brilliant friend as an eponym lila gives elena to prove elena's life is worth of being written about and celebrated too.

[girlief]

small   starter   call   !     hit   the   ♡ . 

[cartoonfangirl1218]

Random thought but EOA popped into my head (as it does) and I realize that Elena and Ash truly are foils. Elena is all about her family. You could argue her ourney to being queen is as much as her learning to heal from family trauma, honoring them, protecting them and making their memory proud. Everything she does is for her people but is also for her family. She surrounds herself with them and they're at the heart of what she does.

Ash has a family and though she proclaims to love them, well Carla, it is not enough for her. Ash could be content with the family she has after the loss of her previous one, but it is not enough and that's the tragedy it is for Carla and Victor.

Idk if I'm explaining it well, it sounded so deep when I was musing on it before.

[dxncingxnmyown]

@francehqstarters | OPEN: (2/4)

There are significant dangers in the Palace of Versailles; the endless attacks, the revolving door of political allegiances, and the quiet ire of the everyday citizen that permeates the walls. But in this moment, none is more dangerous than dull conversation among the grieving widows of courts.

Oh! What a pitiful display it was - bright, tenacious nobles and royals reduced to their grief. Each one hanging onto their mourning clothes and wearing it like a new identity. Yet basking in misery is not her way (at least, not in the middle of the day), and the Princess is quick to round the corner at the sight of the tea party. It would seem as if she's running from one of the imposter guards that locked down the Palace, only a week ago. She's breathless when she finds refuge behind a pillar in the courtyard, pausing to glance back at her shoulder, eyes turning to the figure who bore witness to it all.

"Have you ever spent five hours sitting in a circle, listening to the same three stories, while knitting scarves for a partner no longer on this Earth?" Elena exhales in a breath, irritation clear in her tone. "It is more miserable than being locked with a bunch of antsy royals in a main hall, or chased in some god-awful woods with a search party."

[elenaes]

elena "if i fits i sits ( in ur lap )" gilbert

[thenxghtwemxt]

@classiqals | Maceon and Elena, On the Outskirts of the Gardens

She knew he would come.

Elena cannot claim to know much about her eldest brother. Once upon a time, she knew him like the back of her hand. Only to recognize how little she actually knew. Indeed, he is more of a ghost than a person anymore. But Elena knows that he would come, the moment she pressed her seal onto the letter. Call it a sister's intuition... Or a recognition of the paralyzing fear, playing so evidently in her brother's eyes. It is the only thing stronger than loyalty, Elena realizes, and fear is the reason why she mourned at an empty casket.

"You made it." A statement, not a question, as Elena excuses herself from the festivities to find Maceon in a secluded corner. "You look... Abysmal." She insults thickly, her judgemental eyes gazing upon his long hair and weathered features. "Surely in your webs of deceit, you could have woven yourself a half-decent attire."

[lightrookie]

an exploration into loyalties , passion , violence && self-doubt. heavily headcanon based.

[ carrd ]

[wrathfulmercy]

I don't wanna talk

About things we've gone through

Though it's hurting me

Now it's history

I've played all my cards

And that's what you've done too

Nothing more to say

No more ace to play

The winner takes it all

The loser's standing small

Beside the victory

That's her destiny

I was in your arms

Thinking I belonged there

I figured it made sense

Building me a fence

Building me a home

Thinking I'd be strong there

But I was a fool

Playing by the rules

The gods may throw a dice

Their minds as cold as ice

And someone way down here

Loses someone dear

The winner takes it all

The loser has to fall

It's simple and it's plain

Why should I complain?

But tell me, does she kiss

Like I used to kiss you?

Does it feel the same

When she calls your name?

Somewhere deep inside

You must know I miss you

But what can I say?

Rules must be obeyed

The judges will decide

The likes of me abide

Spectators of the show

Always staying low

The game is on again

A lover or a friend

A big thing or a small

The winner takes it all

I don't wanna talk

If it makes you feel sad

And I understand

You've come to shake my hand

I apologize

If it makes you feel bad

Seeing me so tense

No self-confidence

But you see

The winner takes it all

And the loser has to fall

Throw the dice, cold as ice

Way down here, someone dear

Takes it all, has to fall

And it's plain, why complain?

@wiinestories

@xgoldxnhour

[toomuchracket]

birthday surprise (dad!matty x reader fluff)

another matty35 fic!! a sweet little moment about you and your girls surprising their dad on his birthday, on the other side of the world from home. enjoy! <3

“here we are, 345. dyl, you take the keycard for your mum, yeah?” adam hands the card for the room to your eldest, then peels your middle child from his leg, ruffling her curls. “and remember, you need to be extra loud to wake your dad up. feel free to film it, also.”

you snort, readjusting the baby in your arms. “you think i'll be able to wrangle these three and matty and get the camera out at the same time?”

“good point. still, i expect to hear all about it later!”

“of course. thanks again for helping with this, mate,” you give your friend a hug. “right, you lot, hugs to uncle adam before we go inside.”

adam crouches so dylan and elena can cuddle him, then stands to boop phoebe's tiny nose. “see you all at dinner. have fun!”

“we will!” dylan calls after him. grabbing the handle of her suitcase, she turns to look at you expectantly. “can we go in now, mummy?”

the eagerness is practically radiating off her and elena - actually, even phoebe, barely a year old, seems keen to get inside to see her dad. then again, her two big sisters did spend the entire flight from london to LA explaining that matty was away for work and it was about to be his birthday and the reason you were all on the plane was so you could go and surprise him at work “and also to go to the beach”. while she might be too little to fully understand what they're saying - especially given that both of your elder daughters inherited the matty trait of rambling at the speed of light - their enthusiasm was definitely contagious; despite your lethargy from trying to get three under-eights through an airport and onto a plane in peace, your own excitement about seeing matty for the first time in two months was heightened listening to them yap.

you nod, smiling at your girls. “open the door, dyl, sweetheart. remember to be really quiet when we're going in, yeah? we don't want to wake daddy up before we're ready, do we?”

“no,” elena shakes her head, wild curls flying everywhere. she's the one most like her dad, in personality and looks, with a big toothy smile and a frequent disdain for rules or convention. “and we need to put all our things away first, too.”

well, sometimes she's very like you. “exactly, lena. help your sister with the door, would you?”

little faces set in determination, dylan and elena push the heavy door open as quietly as possible; you shift phoebe into one arm and hold it with the other while they grab their suitcases, then swap the baby to your other arm while you grab your own. once you're in the little entryway, dylan sensibly grabs the handle so she can close the door with minimal noise, turning to you with a grin. “we did it.”

“we did. well done, munchkins,” you high-five dylan and elena, and kiss phoebe's fluffy little head before looking around the hotel room - although, suite would be a more accurate word to describe it. you knew management were booking some sort of family room for matty in preparation for the birthday surprise, but you didn't quite expect something so elaborate. “wow, this is nice.”

“it's so big!” elena pokes her head round the nearest door to you, left ajar, and returns absolutely beaming. “that's daddy's room.”

dylan gasps and tiptoes to stick her own head in, and you follow, excitement buzzing through your body. at the sight of matty, fast asleep with his curls askew and the covers bunched around his waist, you sigh happily; even after all these years together, you're not used to being away from him, and the sight of him within touching distance after almost nine weeks of nothing but facetimes and texts and phone calls honestly brings a lump to your throat.

you can't keep looking at him forever, though, as easy as it would be for you to do - you and your daughters are on a mission, after all. “right. lena, could you open the door on the left, please? the one across from dad's?”

she obliges. “bathroom - oh!” she gasps. “the shower has a bench in it!”

“really?” you peer in, jaw dropping in complete bewilderment - the room's bigger than the master bedroom in the old flat. “shi- shocked. i'm shocked. anyway,” you nudge her out of the doorway. “moving on. next room?”

dylan's already on it. “another bedroom, mum. two beds.”

“that's you two's, then. come on, we'll put our stuff in here for now.”

it's a lovely room, sun-dappled and spacious. you giggle as elena cannonballs onto one of the beds, while dylan immediately goes to the window to look out onto los angeles; phoebe coos happily as you lay her on the other bed, kicking her tiny legs in the air with reckless abandon. she giggles when you lean down to blow a raspberry on her tummy, your favourite sound in the world, and cuddles into you when you take her into your arms again. “alright, my girls, i think it's time,” you start, and the two older girls come skidding over. “who's got dad's birthday card?”

“me,” elena runs to her carry-on, pulling out the card the three of them made for matty and carrying it over as if it was made of glass.

“and the present?”

“here,” dylan holds up a gift bag.

you nod. “good. you ready?”

they both nod enthusiastically, little bobbleheads with cheesy grins. you grin in return, turning to phoebe. “are you ready, baba?”

adorably, she grins back just as cheesily as her sisters; you take that as a “yes”, although you carefully sniff her to make sure she doesn't need changed. with an approving nod, you stand up, smiling. “alright. let's go and see daddy. quietly.”

you've barely got the words out before dylan and elena are tiptoeing as quickly as they can out of the room, graceless impersonations of the demi-pointe running they do at ballet class. turning to phoebe, you sigh. “nice of them to wait for us, isn't it, pheebs?”

she giggles again, a flash of matty genes amidst a face that looks mostly like yours. even though you've been married to him for years and loved him even longer, the fact you have three kids with matty is a little bit mind-boggling to you. in all those years you spent pining for him, the thought of a family was far-fetched even in your wildest dreams - thinking about your girls, half you and half him, flesh and blood with hearts of gold and incredible brains and the biggest smiles you've ever seen… it's honestly a little overwhelming, in the best possible way; a perfect epilogue to a love story that took a few more pages to kick in than it should've.

“mama,” phoebe coos, distracting you, beaming when you coo praise in response. yeah, she only knows two words, but she learned them scarily fast compared to her sisters - again, you reckon it's down to their and matty's respective constant yapping. “dada?”

“yes, sweet girl, we'll go and see him now,” you hoist her further into your grasp, kissing her chubby cheek before following your other sweet girls. they’re waiting outside matty’s door, looking between it and you like they’re watching wimbledon, practically vibrating with excitement. the sight makes you smile. “ok, girls, game plan time. i say we all sit on the empty side of the bed, and when i give the signal, we shout ‘surprise!’. classic, simple, effective. yeah?”

“good idea, mum,” dylan nods. “now?”

you grin. “yeah.”

she bolts into the room, ducking round the half-open door without touching it, elena at her heels. you can’t really stop yourself from running, either, although the door hinders you slightly more given that you’re holding phoebe. and, you know, you’re not five or seven. by the time you and the baby get in, the girls have already carefully climbed onto the bed, staring lovingly down at matty not unlike the way they stared at phoebe when she first came home from the hospital.

the thought makes you giggle, which in turn makes elena turn round to scowl at you. “mummy! shhhh!”

“sorry. here, dyl, take… thanks,” you pass phoebe to her biggest sister while you climb onto the bed, too; dylan carefully sits the baby down beside her, the resemblance between them especially evident in the way they’re smiling. you can’t blame them - you might be biased, but you do think your husband is a very cute sleeper, pretty lips slightly parted and eyelashes brushing his cheek.

a cute sleeper, beginning to wake up already. dylan and elena are coiled springs, ready to shout-shock their dad into full consciousness - their faces aren’t visible where you sit, but you know that they’re grinning. you are, too. so is phoebe, most likely.

two months apart. far too long.

matty’s arms stretch the exact same way dylan’s do when she first wakes up (and you do your best to keep your thoughts about them to a PG rating). you’ve been privy to his wakeup routine countless times since you were eighteen, and, still, your heart flutters at the way he yawns and rolls onto his side, lips set into a sleepy faint smile, blinking his eyes open. but, before you can even open your mouth to signal “now!”, those eyes widen fully; accompanied by a “christ!”, matty jumps (well, jerks) backward in surprise, and, in the process, completely falls out of the bed.

all four of the rest of you crawl to the edge of the bed, reactions varying to the echoing thud of your husband’s arse hitting the hardwood floor. dylan and elena are beside themselves with laughter, clutching each other in complete hysterics, while you lean over in shock, tentatively asking “baby, you alright?”. but it’s phoebe’s reaction that matty actually responds to, pulling himself back up when he hears her concerned wail of “dada!” and sees her lip trembling, a sign of imminent tears - he climbs onto the mattress and shuffles towards the centre, scooping her up into a cuddle and pressing gentle kisses to her little head. “oh, my sweet baby. daddy’s alright, munchkin, really, but i appreciate the concern,” he scowls at the older two. “at least one of my daughters cares about me.”

“sorry, dad,” dylan moves to snuggle into him, elena copying the action on the other side. “we do care. but that was a little bit funny.”

he smiles, leaning down as best he can to kiss their curls in turn. “yeah, i s’pose it was. and i’ve missed making you all laugh, even if that time was unintentional. missed you, all of you, my girls!”

elena looks up at her dad adoringly. “missed you too. a lot. so has dyl, and pheebs. and mummy.”

“yeah,” matty looks at you properly for the first time; his eyes look like home, warm and loving and familiar, and it still does funny things to your stomach. “hi, darling. you kept this quiet, didn’t you?”

“wanted to surprise you, baby,” you move to kiss him, as passionately as you can with three kids around; despite the restraint from both of you, you’re lightheaded when you break apart. “happy birthday.”

“thanks, my darlings,” matty blushes, amid a chorus of felicitations from your daughters. he sniffles and hugs the baby tighter, tears welling in those pretty eyes. “this is really special, having you all out here with me today. god, you’ve no idea how much i’ve missed you.”

“yeah, we do,” you laugh softly, leaning around phoebe to gently wipe the tears from his eyes with your thumbs; he kisses your palm as a thank-you. “we took a twelve-hour flight across the atlantic because we didn’t want to be away from you any longer! thank god management agreed to it, by the way. reckon i’d have gone insane if i had to wait for tour to end before i got to be with you again. and yes,” you notice matty opening his mouth to speak. “we’re here until hometime.”

“oh, thank god,” matty’s eyes close in bliss. “i miss home.”

“funny you should say that, actually,” you wave to get dylan’s attention, nodding towards the gift bag. “take a look at your birthday present.”

“and card,” elena chips in.

“and card, of course,” you settle the baby against your own chest, smiling as matty tugs the girls into a cuddle after he reads the card from them; it turns to a full-on giggle when he opens the gift bag. “so, verdict?”

matty cheers, pulling out the box of pg tips teabags and packet of chocolate digestives. “you always know just what i need,” he wraps an arm around you, kissing your head.

“yeah, which is why there’s also a new turntable waiting for you at home, too. we were gonna buy a record to go with it, but,” you look up at your husband quizzically. “we thought it might be nice to go shopping for one here, together?”

he kisses you sweetly. “i love that idea. to be honest, i’d be happy doing anything with my girls. shall we go record shopping today?”

“matty, babe, it’s your birthday. you decide!”

“alright. record shopping it is,” he grins, increasing the volume of his voice as he continues. “but first… i’m thinking we should order room service.”

elena’s face lights up. “can we get pancakes? please? with nutella? and strawberries?”

matty gestures towards the entryway. “menu’s out there, munchkins. go and have a look, see what you want,” he smiles after elena and dylan as they tear out of the room. “can’t believe you managed to get those adorable riots on a transatlantic flight by yourself. and you, baba!” he coos to phoebe, who babbles excitedly in response. her dad laughs, kissing her head before kissing you. “seriously, i’m in awe of you. have been for decades at this point already, but… i’m so impressed that you pulled this off. and so grateful. and so in love with you, forever and always.”

“i love you so, so much. always will,” you kiss matty’s lips, then nose, then all over his face, until he’s giggling a lot like the baby wriggling happily on your chest. “happy birthday again, baby.”

[terapsina]

weewoo 'tis I for the fandom ask if you don't mind :)

Fandom: TVD/TO => 17

Ship: Elejah (lmao to no one's surprise) => 6, 8

Character: Elijah Mikaelson => 2, 7

(from this ask game)

Fandom:

17. ...the world-building aspect of the story I have the greatest admiration for.

I have a lot of gripes about those shows (like... so many) but there's also a REASON I've been kinda obsessed with it for years now.

From the world-building perspective I guess I love the ever expanding mythology of the supernatural world. The way they started out the show with the basics of vampires and witches and werewolves. And then expanded into this whole mythos of the Originals and how vampires were a creation of witches; and how a werewolf bite was poison to vampires; the hybrids; the heretics; the tribrid; the humanity switch. etc.

Some of it occasionally became too much but it made for an extremely compelling world. And I have to give my kudos to that.

Ship:

6. ...what kind of AU fics I'm obsessed with reading about them (or would be if I could find one).

Every single American Gothic Canon Divergence AU fic I can get my hands on (...which is why I've written so many myself).

...which barely counts as AU I guess.

Fine. If I go full AU I guess I'd say they're pretty much the perfect ship for a Hades & Persephone AU (but a version where Elena makes a deal with Elijah to escape into the underworld because she's being pursued by a minor god who isn't taking no for an answer *cough* we all know who *cough*, and in short order Elijah's completely gone on her, and when the time comes Elena bites into that pomegranate viciously in full victory and with her teeth bared against the one who's trying to drag her back).

8. ...if I'm most interested in fics about them that focus on fluff, angst, humor, smut or actual plot?

ALLLLLLL OF IT, ALL AT ONCE. No, but really, my absolute favorite Elejah fics are the ones that combine the sweet scenes where Elena and Elijah are soft around each other, with pain and pining, and a few chuckles to break the tension and enough plot to give everything else some meat (won't say no to some smut either).

But I'm also just... obsessed with one shots in all colors of the rainbow too.

I'm not picky. It's got Elejah? I'm in.

Character:

2. ...how I would have chosen to change their story from canon.

Well. To start at the end, I would definitely not have Elijah decide to die with Klaus as if Rebekah, Kol, Freya, and Hope were chopped liver.

Cuz that is stupid and I hate it.

And the shipper in me wants to add a happy ending with Elena (because I too am embarrassingly predictable).

7. ...the scene that I think adds depth to their character or the relationship this character has with someone.

(I'm gonna answer this one through a ship lense cuz I can't and you can't stop me)

It's fascinating to me the way Elijah keeps bringing Elena on these romantic walks as he tells her his life story. Even while he thinks she's betrayed him because he knows she lied.

It doesn't matter what's going on Elijah seems to be compelled (unfortunate choice of words in this particular universe but there's no better word for it) for Elena to know him.

[scbrvght]

♡ open to: m/f/nb ♡ elena jiménez - flight attendant

" I trust you just I -- I really don't think we're supposed to be here. "

[boomania]

basil showed up to the bloodfiend gathering and really said: "i am here to end racism against distortion bloodfiends"