#VNstarter

[hbiccarolineforbes]

“Don’t judge me. There’s nothing better than a midday slice of pie.” And a good sack of blood.

[isaac--lahey]

here to collect your hearts ♥

Patience was never Kol’s strong suit.

And he knew he needed to be patient in order for his plans to unfold jussst right, else this was all for naught and he would find himself, once again, on the wrong end of a blade. Not to mention, he was unsure how the whole immortality clause applied in this new body, so it was easier to just assume death was a type of failure at this point. One of the many setbacks of this new image. Another? The vessel itself. Between the age and the whole being dead aspect, he couldn’t have a decent night out. Honestly, Kol wondered if he had really lost his touch these past couple of years or if the kid really had been that hopeless even before he took over.

Of course he enjoyed the game of pretend - between playing Kaleb and Isaac his hands were juggling quite a bit of the two and he liked keeping busy. After all, idle hands were the devil’s play thing. And as much as Klaus ( @niklaus-no-mans-son) liked to claim the title, he just didn’t like to admit he had competition for the wickedest of Mikaelsons.

As he had gathered, Marcel was running the show now, and from by what Mary had implied, it seemed the orphan boy had overreacted and was beginning to accumulate one too many enemies as a result. Which was why Kol now found himself in the Bayou. The wolves had been dealt a bad hand in the wake of Marcel’s wrath, and with his newfound body the perfect go-between, the Original figured he would pay the outcast group a little visit.

After all, misery loves company.

[sophie-deveraux]

The Burdens We Bear

She supposed there was some kind of irony in Davina spending her last moments in her family’s tomb but all Sophie could think about was the Deveraux plot, Monique and Jane-Anne’s names permanately etched into the cold gray concrete all because of one girl. Luck be with her, she’d have found the girl alone but there Marcel was, still clinging to the side of the tiny witch like everything he’d built would tumble down if he didn’t have his not-so-secret weapon at his disposal at all times. A clay kindgom for a clay king, she thought with a bitter pang of resentmesnt.

“Its over.” The words are soft but the space is tiny enough that her voice resonates well enough anyway. Still, she doesn’t even realize she’s spoken until the words are out of her mouth and as a beat passes and she views the scene before her with extreme scrutiny it becomes clear that they were not needed; they��re defeated and they know it. She can see it in the glossiness of Davina’s gaze, in Marcel’s slunched shoulders; can feel it in the silence that comes from the Mikaelsons. Even the noble Elijah had sensed it. Deep down she feels the tiniest bit of guilt for interrupting what is clearly a private moment. “I can help you but you have to let me. You’re dying, Davina. You can feel it can’t you? If you go like this you won’t come back and neither will any of the other Harvest kids. Help me end this…Help me finish what was started.” 

@littlestxwitch @marcelxthexking @the-noble-mikaelson @bexmikaclson @niklaus-no-mans-son

[thexstubbornxhale-blog]

Desperate measures or just desperate|| Open

Cora has been sat outside of the loft for hours--perhaps a day or two--she doesn’t remember anymore, but she’s not able to bring herself to go inside. She purposely made a point of wanting to be alone. Everything had changed the moment Derek died--a part of her died with him and she thought about everything which had been happening lately.

She and Derek were never meant to find any happiness, they were both foolish enough to believe they could get into relationships and fall in love. She knew her brother was feeling that way about Hayley and even though Cora had only kissed Stiles, it was a massive turning point for the youngest Hale who had never taken things as far. 

--her heart feels nothing now though, but hurt and revenge. People in life just think they can take from her family--kill her family and get away with it. Who can blame them? Wherever Kate is, she still has her family, the Argents and Cora has no clue what has happened to Jennifer, but she assumes she is alive. The thought of all this just fuels the anger inside. Now anger has always been an emotion that the young wolf can cling to quite well. It hides the underlying feelings and keeps them from the world, the truth which would tell everyone she is barely hanging on. 

So there are two ports of call she is going to make a beeline for and the first is the school, to find out Jennifers details and hunt the damn bitch down--it doesn’t take her long to get there. Her own welfare is sidelined. There is no logical sense of self-preservation here, her thoughts are severely clouded and anyone who gets in her way will have to be physically stronger to stop her. 

She heads for the classroom that Blake taught in and luckily there are no students, but there are a couple of teachers.  One by one she flips the desks over as she walks to the front. One teacher attempts to walk out of the class and alert everyone else--though the noise has probably alerted plenty of people anyway.

“I want to know all the details you have on a certain Jennifer Blake...you know...the teacher who was working here...”

There’s movement behind her and she spins around quickly, dark hues piercing into the other as they walk into the room, but at least she is keeping her wolf under control....for now.

“Stay out of this!...this is of no concern to you!...I mean it...steer clear...”

She casts a quick glance to the teacher who is rooted to the spot and turns her words to him.

“Details...NOW!!”

[silverargentvalkyrie]

Text || ??

Allison: I need help.

Allison: Can't explain.

Allison: Please come.

[mattheweddonovan-blog]

A man a man, a wolf a wolf || Cora & Matt

Matt wasn't sure what @thexstubbornxhale had meant exactly with the bayou being dangerous. Yeah, he kinda knew that the werewolves lived there and such, but he actually thought that the whole point of their kinda fight was that the werewolves weren't dangerous, or at least, not more dangerous than humans. Or something like that. He wasn't really sure anymore. He just knew that he wanted to prove Cora that he wasn't gonna ignore and leave her. He for sure was gonna prove that he didn't want things to change because she was a werewolf. Although, it was kinda hard. All his friends had kept secrets. There was this whole hidden world and it seemed like he was the last one to find out about it. But that didn't change the fact that Cora lost her brother. Again. And he kinda knew how that felt and like she had been there for him while he was dealing with the Vicki stuff, he now wanted to be there for her. 

He parked the car as near as he dared and then he made his way through the bayou until he stood in front of her place. Reluctantly he knocked on the door and quickly he hid his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

[todayitwillbedifferent-blog]

｡･ﾟﾟ* a heart that’s broke is a heart that’s been loved❞

They weren’t supposed to be here, not like this, not so soon.

Déjà vu hit hard, only this time the memorial service for their Aunt hadn’t been haphazardly thrown together for a person they barely knew. But John Gilbert’s sacrifice was an unhealed wound, and once again the guilt began to bubble uncomfortably in the pit of her stomach along with the same question Elena had been trying to push as far away from her mind as possible.

Who would be next?

And as more and more people began to file into St. Anne’s, Elena made the strategic decision to stand somewhere in-between Jeremy and the front- determined to create some sort of buffer between him and the well-meaning people who wanted to pay their respects. A quick survey of the room helped the brunette find John, fully in uniform, near the entrance of the Church, and idly she wondered if the hunter had had a similar idea.

She’d have to thank him later for this. For everything.

Polite responses were given as Elena tried to keep herself from standing still, her hands playing with a flower she had quickly picked from one of the arrangements just to have something to do. Quick answers of ‘we’re holding up okay,’ and ‘thank you’ were politely given. It was the only answer anyone wanted to hear, and Elena knew from experience they weren’t looking for anything more than that, and the offers to reach out if anything was needed was more for their benefit than hers or Jeremy’s.

Blinking to clear her vision, Elena’s shoulder bumped into something – someone- as she turned around. “Oh, I’m sorry.” A weak smile accompanied the apology.

[jchnalden-blog]

Haunted by Ghosts | Open

“—John Alden, I’m a friend of the family’s.” He said, shaking the next person in line’s hand. He’d said it so many times by this point it hardly felt awkward anymore. “Thank you for coming, it means a lot to the kids. Very nice to meet you, Elena and Jeremy are right— yep, just around the corner.” He grimaced and resisted checking his watch. He was pretty sure they still had about an hour left of the memorial. He was doing his best to play host, directing people where to go, thanking them for their thoughts and prayers, but it was hard when he hardly knew any of these people. He wasn’t a part of this family, no matter how they split it. Still, it was what he could do. 

“Hi, thank you so much for coming,” he said again, shaking the next hand in line. 

[giatalwar]

rules are made to be... | open

Loyalty.

Family.

Love.

A discordant note bled out from the beneath her impatient fingers. Her bow sat leaning against her knee. The violin across her lap.

Freedom.

Laws.

Safety.

Another note. Another deep sigh of frustration from the vampire. Her head bent low over the instrument, hair falling over the carefully tended wood. The precisely tuned strings.

Insanity.

Blood.

Lies.

Her fingers slid across the strings as if she might pluck one, break it. It wasn’t the music she was thinking of. It was... the cost of taking care of herself. Of forever. Power. Strength. The price of a ring, the sun on her face. The debt of protection.

Her sister was a werewolf, she wasn’t sure she’d yet accepted it. That she could even begin to until she saw her sister again. Elijah was... Elijah. The one who had given her not just power, immortality, but had given her her music back. Marcel had given her the day again.

“You know the rules,” she murmured, not looking up at the footsteps that neared her.

[hbiccarolineforbes]

Text | Open

Care: I've been summoned? You blew up my phone for what reason?

Care: Please be specific.

[isaac--lahey]

If heaven’s grief brings hell’s reign...: OPEN

Kol couldn’t remember the last time he had a scar, but he found his new body riddled with them. Another oddity as he was quite sure his host was a werewolf and thus should have healed from such infliction of pain. They were all of no consequence to him - despite the grievous dark line traced across his neck from the previous host’s last hours on earth. That wouldn’t do for appearances and with a bit of concentrated magic, the Original had all but erased it from sight and memory.

Of course his comeback couldn’t be too easy or else where was the fun in that? The universe certainly had a sense of humor. His newfound host of a body had once been a witch - Kol could sense where the magical channels had once run through him - but the werewolf gene, once triggered, had stopped the flow. In all his year on this earth, he never expected he would find himself in the body of a mutt. He had longed for magic and yet the universe granted him the other third of the supernatural trifecta. Lovely.

And to make it even more interesting, people actually mourned the passing of this boy and thus made his plans of being incognito till the time was right all the harder to pull off. His face was on the front of the damn newspaper for weeks.

But he had waited long enough. He had been stuck in the dark for so long, he wouldn’t not wait another month to start his comeback. New Orleans had enough time to prepare itself and where his siblings had fucked up, the fourth Mikaleson would not be making the same mistake.

Kol Mikaelson was back.

[dark-salvatore]

“No, I’m not asleep. I just want to be left alone. Is it that hard to understand?”

[thexstubbornxhale-blog]

Being back at the bayou doesn’t really affect Cora so much. It is a place where she found a home after her family had died. Of course, there is the awkwardness of how things are with Jackson, but on the grand scale of things, it seems quite minuscule in comparison. 

On the other hand, being told she can’t stray from the bayou or the Algiers, is like poking a bear with a stick...or a werewolf. The young Hale hates it and so far has managed to steer clear of entering the French quarter but it’s taken a lot of willpower and restraint, something she might not always find in the future. 

Picking up the scent of someone nearby but not having them quite close enough yet to determine who they are, Cora steps to one side and uses the nearby tree to offer some cover. Depending who it is will determine whether she gets on the defensive or actually tries to strike up a conversation. After all, there are reasons of her own for doing both.  

[charliestechieworld]

More than a year and a half into the 'independent adult life', Charlie had been convinced that she'd been doing well for herself. She was learning to cook, she knew how to do her laundry, paid her bills on time, and aside from the lack of attention to her diet and exercise, she'd been doing as well as possible to take care of herself.

Yet there were somethings, particularly in the car maintenance department that she still struggled with. Which is how, the hacktivist found herself at an auto parts shop, feeling like a fish out of water . She'd spent almost thirty minutes looking for the right headlights to replace the ones that were no longer working. But which ones was she supposed to buy? Was each one different depending on the car make and model? Or was the type of headlights just universal? Confused, Charlie continued to pace up and down the aisle, reading the labels and type of bulb aloud as if trying to decipher a code.

“Halogen, Xenon, bi-Xenon, LED, LED Matrix...”

She'd also been remarkably unsuccessful at flagging down shop personnel to ask them for much needed assistance. So running out of patience she approached the nearest human being she could find.

“Hi…excuse me, sorry, but um, would you know which type of bulb one would buy if they needed to replace an existing pair of headlights that decided to suddenly give up? Asking for a friend.” She added, as if that in any way saved her from sticking out as the complete noob in a car parts shop. As said person turned to respond the familiar face immediately registered with Charlie.

“Oh! Hey, Quentin! Fancy running into you here. D-did you ever manage to track down those GPS coordinates you’d had me look up for you? Were they any help?”

@wolfwandering

[mattheweddonovan-blog]

Through better and worse || Matt & Malia

Matt tapped his steering wheel. He stared at the red light above the road that refused to turn green. He didn't know why he was this impatient actually. It wasn't like Malia knew he was coming and it wasn't like there would be any harm done if he'd arrive a few minutes later. But somehow, somehow he had a bad feeling in his stomach about all of this.

Yeah, he had promised Malia to give her room and space, to take things slowly. He was already glad that she wasn't running away screaming and she kinda wanted to try this whole relationship thing, even though she wanted to make sure they wouldn't go too fast. But the last couple of weeks he had called several times and left a few messages and she hadn't answered. He wasn't sure if that was normal for Malia, but he was her boyfriend now, right? It was kinda weird to not hear anything from your girlfriend for weeks! 

When the light turned green he sped up and took the turn into the woods. He drove as far as he could and parked the car. A shiver rolled down his spine when he stepped out and he buried his hands in the pockets of his jacket. The woods never felt fully safe anymore, even though the city wasn't really safe either. 

He swallowed when he eventually stopped in front of her house. He didn't wanna be pushy. And he didn't wanna lose her. He was just worried. There was nothing wrong with being worried, right? He took another deep breath and then he knocked on the door. "Malia? Are you home?"

[niklaus-no-mans-son-blog]

How Blood and Water Mix ||  VN Fallen

@bexmikaclson @the-noble-mikaelson @littlestxwitch @marcelxthexking

Will I grow weary of the sun, remembering what I have done with old mythologies?

How was it that he had been relegated to the role of voice of reason? In his thousand years, he couldn’t remember ever being looked to as the paragon of restraint or levelheadness. Honestly, not a once. And yet here he was. 

“Bekah, love, you’ve had scores of truly dreadful ideas over the years, but honestly you’ve outdone yourself this time. Really. I’m actually impressed.” The words were whispered because they stood just outside the gate to Lafayette Cemetery, and while witches didn’t have the same talent for eavesdropping as wolves or vampires, he had no intentions of announcing their presence. Perhaps this Paragon Diamond would work, perhaps his blood would be a powerful enough channel to carry this through, but what he didn’t understand was why it all had to happen in the same bloody place it had started. It was just poetic enough be exactly what a witch had planned. 

“The minute we pass that gate we are on their territory. We are supposed to be p r o t e c t i n g her. Not delivering her on a silver platter.” The ‘her’ in question was in a bad way, and Klaus felt the weight of his promise suffocate him with every passing minute. The truth was, he didn’t know what would save Davina. He didn’t know if this would work, and if it did, would it work in time?