#boyking!klaus au

[kylermalloy]

Set in the boyking!Klaus AU

After they flee the de Martels and Father, they are reduced back to nomads. Wandering through the countryside, killing, feasting, running.

Rebekah misses the life she carved for herself at court. The pretty things, the attention of men.

Kol laments the loss of their refuge as well. He throws himself on the ground next to Rebekah after their latest slaughter—a company of about fifteen travelers. Their tents were pitched for the night, the fires lit. Their watchmen gave no warning.

Rebekah and her brothers piled the corpses in the forest nearby, so they could rest for the night without the smell of the dead in their lungs.

(They don’t need to sleep. They don’t even need a fire to keep them warm. But Nik has already dragged Elijah into one of the tents, where they make no effort to hide the sounds of their pleasure.)

“You know,” Kol muses to Rebekah. “I do envy them this one thing. After we’ve feasted, there’s no one left to fuck. But they’re never left wanting.”

At court, Kol grew accustomed to the wealth of warm bodies. Though he loved the taste of young women’s blood, he sampled their flesh and pleasures just as often.

Rebekah isn’t immune to the allure of sex, either. Without the watchful eye of her father, and with countless advances from those at court, Rebekah sampled her share of flesh as well.

She misses the attention, more than anything. Her brothers barely look at her.

Now they are all she has. Finn can hardly stand to speak to any of them. Niklaus and Elijah are too wrapped up in each other to notice anyone else.

Kol, though…

He has a streak of wickedness in him. Nothing that compares to Niklaus, but he cares not for the laws of men.

Perhaps…

She rises, propping herself on one elbow. She lets her hair spill long and loose over her shoulder, catching the sliver of moonlight.

“There’s always…me.”

She sneaks her hand up his sprawled body—on the pretense of grabbing his hand, but she lets her fingers dance across his thigh. His groin.

Kol shifts the arm under his head so he can meet her gaze, a little confused and a little curious. “Bex?”

Rebekah’s heart speeds up. Her breath comes out in a quiet rush. “I mean…we could always…”

“What, you and me?” Kol’s mouth twists down. “No, thank you.”

He turns his head to the side, away from her.

“Why not?” Rebekah rolls onto her stomach, chasing after him. Lays one hand on his shoulder and the other on his cheek, turning him gently back.

He shifts uncomfortably. “You’re my sister.”

“And?”

“And I don’t want you.”

It’s bald and plain and unapologetic. He cares nothing for her feelings, for letting her down easy.

Rebekah’s heart stings. It’s not the first time Kol has pushed her away.

But with Nik as a brother, Rebekah has grown accustomed to much deeper rejections.

Beyond them, in the occupied tent, Elijah’s deep voice stretches into a euphoric groan.

Rebekah chases Kol’s eyes until their gazes meet. His grudging, hers pleading.

“You can’t think it’s wrong. No more wrong than…anything else we’ve done tonight.” She glances suggestively in the direction of the corpses they created.

Kol shrugs at this, a flicker of agreement passing over his face.

“You don’t think I’m pretty?”

“You are, Bex. I suppose. But not for me. You’re just…” He grimaces. “I remember you suckling at Mother’s breast. I remember bathing you in the stream before you could walk.”

“I’m not a child anymore,” she insists. “Look at me.”

She moves her skirt, slowly lifting one bare leg over his body until she is practically straddling him.

She has never had to seduce anyone. Everyone she has bedded has been willing—eager, even—

He tenses under her, as though she is an overeager pup who wants to play in the dead of night.

Yet his eyes travel, almost unconsciously, down the length of her body.

She leans closer to him, pressing their torsos together—making sure he can feel the firm roundness of her breasts through her dress.

“You don’t have to want me. But I’m warm and willing and I’m here. Just imagine I’m a stranger.”

Kol groans, covering his eyes with a bent elbow. Yet other parts of him respond differently—his heart speeds up, his legs twitch.

She presses a series of kisses down his jaw and neck, while her hand wanders into his shirt. His stomach muscles hiccup under her light, teasing touch.

By the time her fingers slip below his waist, a tent has already begun to form in his pants.

“By the gods, Bex,” he says, a little breathless. “You’re going to damn me to hell.”

Rebekah strokes his hardening cock, eliciting what can only be described as a whimper out of her confident, smug brother.

She drags her mouth back up his neck to press a kiss to the corner of his lips. Meets his dark-pupiled eyes with a heavy-lidded gaze.

“If there is a hell,” she whispers, letting her teeth graze his cheek, then his ear, “we’re already destined for it.”

Kol smirks at that.

He rolls suddenly, flipping their bodies so he straddles her. His sex presses hard and insistent into her skirt, into the join between her legs.

She laughs breathlessly, only to find his hand over her mouth. “Don’t talk, little sister. You might make me remember what I’m doing.”

He’s looking at her hands, her chest, anywhere but her face.

No matter. He is hers for the night.

She smiles against his fingers and uses her tongue to lure two of them into her mouth, where she sucks them lewdly.

.

He tears her dress beyond repair, though he doesn’t fully remove it.

He pushes his fingers into her, sighing at the warm wetness.

She takes his cock in his mouth and lets him have a few good thrusts.

She doesn’t speak, even when a particularly enthusiastic thrust hits the back of her throat exactly wrong, and her eyes begin to water.

She leaves enough spit as a lubricant as he withdraws his member and tears her skirt open.

He doesn’t wait for her discomfort to fade before he is moving inside her, digging, it seems, for his own completion.

He hits some of the right spots along the way, and Rebekah muffles her cries into his shoulder when she sees stars.

She tears his shirt open and runs her tongue over his chest, his hard nipples. He wrenches her dress open at the neckline and gropes at her breasts, squeezing rather harder than she’d like.

“Oh, god—oh, god, Bex—” Kol seems to have forgotten about pretending she’s anyone else. He braces his hands, leaning more of his weight on her breasts.

She moans, near pain. Her brother is on top of her, thrusting into her at a rapidly increasing and erratic pace. She doesn’t mind.

She pulls one hand free and repositions it at her clit, letting the pads of her fingers enhance the experience.

Kol comes with a shudder and a groan. His fingers close tight around her breasts—if they were still human, she’d have bruises for weeks.

He slumps around her, their half-naked bodies clashing warm—but not soft—on the ground. He pants into her collarbone, worn out quickly by his efforts.

She feels him soften inside of her, and she accepts that she’s not going to come tonight.

Not with him, anyway. Nik and Elijah are still going at it, by the sounds from their tent.

Kol slides out of her without meeting her eyes. Warm, runny liquid leaks out of her cunt and down toward her buttocks.

He sighs and dismounts her. Runs an arm across his sweaty brow. “Damn it. I…I needed that.”

Rebekah swipes a stray strand of hair off of her face. “So did I.”

Kol flops back onto the ground, on his back, and stares up at the sky. He makes no move to distance himself from her.

“Next…next time I should take you from behind. That’ll be…easier. I think.”

Rebekah covers her sly smile with an arm. “All right. Whatever you want.”

More boyking

AO3

[aeruthien]

Hey, I just finished scrolling your TO tag and congratulations, you made me ship klebekah and klelijah so hard now haha !

Also, I loved all the fanfics you wrote about them can you suggest any other accounts who ship/write/post about klebekah and klelijah ? :).

Hi anon, thank you so much and welcome to the trashcan! I can not be sued for crying in the dead of night because of Klelijah forehead touches, or thinking about Klebekah's love-hate relationship during work/study/life, but you're very welcome to cry along with me :D (suggestion, also add relijah to your list for the complete Always-and-Forever- OT3-experience TM)

I highly recommend @kylermalloy, and especially her boyking!Klaus AU (although if you went through my TO tag you probably encountered those), @evanescentrainbow, @originalbarbieklaus, @edmundsmercy and @join-the-club-weve-got-jackets for those who still post regularly about TO, and @sicklyscribe, @icebluecyanide, @hairzier and @joonsilk for more sporadic content and older meta's and posts.

And if you want to, please come talk to us about TO and its very healthy sibling relationships! What are your favourite Klebekah and Klelijah moments? I would love to hear your thoughts!

[kylermalloy]

First Line

@evanescentdawn tagged me to post the first line of my WIP—thanks, Yuki darling! 🥰

Rebekah misses the life she carved for herself at court—the pretty things, the attention of men.

Who to tag…who else even writes lol. @whitedahlia13, @konekowrites, @gey-beans, @lilxxbrainrot, @caranfindel, @laertez, and anyone else who wants to share!

[kylermalloy]

Set in the boyking!Klaus AU

Niklaus challenges Mikael to a duel.

Mikael accepts, half scornful and half pleased for the boy to display such mettle.

They meet on the edge of the woods, blades in hand. Mikael scoffs at his lean son, who still stands a full head shorter than him. He holds his sword with the clumsy, tenuous grip of a novice.

It will be a short fight.

“Are you here to prove your worth to me, boy?”

Niklaus smiles, though he must know he is outmatched. “Why would I want to do that? No. I thought we could have some father-son time.” He runs his blade against Mikael’s, edge along edge. Not an attack. Hardly even a test—it is a tease.

Fury rears in Mikael’s chest at such arrogance. The boy has never known his place. “You ought to do as you’re told. Instead of spending all day off gallivanting with your brother.”

“Lijah? Why should I? He wouldn’t know what to do without me. He loves me.” He begins prowling in a slow circle, blade held level and at the ready. Mikael mimics his movements.

But Niklaus seems to have little interest in the fight itself. “You know what I mean, don’t you Father? He loves me. He loves every part of me. He loves the taste of me.” A wide smirk stretches across his lips.

Mikael’s steps falter. He nearly stumbles.

Niklaus knows just how to get under his skin. Knows just what to say, to inspire shock and revulsion.

“Such filth,” he hisses. “You ought to be ashamed.” No child of his should speak that way and not suffer for it. “I should cut that filthy tongue from your mouth.”

“See if you can manage it, Mikael.” Niklaus runs said tongue over his teeth, a lewd gesture. “I don’t imagine Elijah would be too pleased.”

“Elijah?” Mikael scoffs. In spite of Niklaus’s obsession with his brother, this faith seems misplaced. “What can he do?”

“For me?” Niklaus smiles widely. Wickedly. “He’d do anything. He tells me so every night.”

Mikael tries not to think about what his devil child is implying. “He is a good son.”

“Oh, Father. So naive. He would bleed for me. Kill for me. I think he would die for me.” He whips his blade out suddenly, clanging against Mikael’s with an unexpected ferocity. “Would he die for you? Does he tell you that at night, as he holds you?”

His pale eyes glitter with malice.

Mikael lunges at him. Sloppily, he knows. Niklaus sidesteps him easily. But his fury is so great—blood pounds through his head, clouding his vision and clubbing his limbs.

Niklaus has not stopped smirking, completely unrattled by Mikael’s anger. “He belongs to me, Mikael. If he had to choose between us, do you honestly think he would choose you?”

Mikael lunges again, and misses again. His sword glances off of Niklaus’s. Niklaus casually flicks a strand of hair off his forehead.

He should be cowering. Apologizing. Swearing to be better. Instead, Mikael’s anger only amuses him.

Niklaus tilts his head, mockingly thoughtful. “If both of us were lying here bleeding, who do you think he would choose to save? Admit it, Father.” His lips drip with sweet honeyed poison. “You don’t have him. You never did.”

Mikael tries to ignore the grain of icy dread growing inside him. If he cannot control his own children, then what is he worth?

His next words are so naked, so unguarded, so weak, it almost turns his stomach. “What do you want from him?”

“Just…him.” Niklaus has abandoned even the pretense of fighting. He stares past Mikael and speaks in a slow, measured voice. “I want him to see me, and only me. I want my touch to be the only thing he feels. I want him to feel sick when he’s not with me. I want his smiles to be because of me alone. I want him, every part of him, to belong to me.”

He looks Mikael in the eye, certainty scorching his gaze. “What do I want from him, Father? I want his everything. And I have it. If I asked him to leave with me, today, he would.”

“And if I asked,” Mikael replies icily, and not as sure and certain as he would like to be, “our entire family would follow me to hunt you down.”

“Are you sure about that, Father? Do you truly have the loyalty of our family, that they would follow your every command?”

“My wife,” Mikael says tightly, “has raised our children to be obedient. Aside from the single abomination before me, she has succeeded.”

“Oh, please.” Mockery laces his words. “Mother puts up with your temper tantrums, but even she has a limit. Whose blind loyalty do you have? Not Finn’s. He is Mother’s sycophant. Kol is her protégée in magic. Rebekah loves me through her fear. And Elijah…let’s just say if he had to choose between you and me…” He scoffs. “Father, all you have is little Henrik.”

He smiles blithely, as if he has not laid bare every fear Mikael harbors about his family. “So what do you have, Mikael. Other than some harsh words and your fists?”

Mikael makes good use of those fists, ramming one into Niklaus’s ribs while the other clips under his jaw, sending him reeling backward into a tree trunk. He grunts in satisfaction.

Niklaus leans casually against the tree, looking entirely unshaken. Unimpressed. “Honestly. All this talk of me being an abomination—a beast. Here you are, growling and lunging like a pathetic caged animal. Maybe it’s you who is the beast.”

“Stop.” Mikael’s teeth are clenched. He holds his blade toward Niklaus, ready to strike. Hoping his son won’t notice how white his knuckles are on the hilt.

“Tell me, Father. Do you hate yourself so much you’d bestow that title on your most hated child—because I’m everything you fear?”

With a yell, Mikael drives his sword through Niklaus’s shoulder, pinning him to the tree like an animal. Like an insect.

Blood wells and spills from the wound, staining his son’s clothes. Staining his blade.

He exhales in satisfaction. “Let that be a lesson to you.”

Niklaus looks coolly down at the hole in his shoulder. “What exactly have you taught me?” No hint of pain or fear or shame.

“To leave my son alone.” Please. Let him be. Leave this place. Or better yet, just die right here.

“With this wound? Unlikely.” He opens his mouth and screams—a sound of pure agony. It clangs in Mikael’s head like the tedious cries of a wounded, dying beast.

But Niklaus isn’t dying. He smiles gleefully at Mikael through a trickle of blood in his mouth. “He’ll be here soon. He’ll know my pain. He’ll know who caused it.”

He leans forward, heedless of how the bloodstain darkens on his shirt with the movement. “And he’ll make it go away.”

And then Elijah is there, all but shoving Father aside to reach Niklaus, who whines in pain for his brother.

Neither of them pay Mikael any notice as he demands they separate, that Elijah let Niklaus deal with the consequences of the duel alone.

His blade is lodged in Niklaus’s shoulder, now useless to him. Elijah is deaf to his orders.

Truly, all he has are harsh words and his fists.

Though the duel is over with an indisputable outcome, Mikael cannot convince himself he has won.

More boyking snippets

AO3

[kylermalloy]

Set in the boyking!Klaus AU

On the night of the full moon, Henrik sneaks out with Nik to see the wolves transform.

It isn’t exactly his choice.

Nik grabs him by the arm and hauls him to his feet. How brave are you, little brother?

Niklaus has always frightened Henrik. He’s nothing like their other siblings. Not loving like Rebekah, or Elijah. Not indulgent or funny, like Kol. He doesn’t even act like a parent, as Finn does.

Nik…Nik looks at Henrik like he’s a tool in the market. Sizing him up, weighing whether or not to buy him. Whether or not he would be useful enough.

He has never struck Henrik, or acted outright cruel to him. There is simply an air about him, a feeling that Henrik ought not cross Nik, ought not get too close.

He cannot even look into his eyes too long; Nik’s gaze sends chills down his spine.

Once, when he was feeling bold, he asked: What are you looking at?

Nik tilted his head to one side. Just deciding whether or not to eat you.

He was probably joking, Henrik tells himself. Probably. A common jest meant to tease younger children. Mother has said as much before—I could eat you for dinner, little one.

But he can’t be sure. The cold way he speaks, the way he holds himself—Henrik can imagine Nik doing anything.

That’s why he bites back his protests when Nik pulls him to his feet. Inspecting him, sizing him up. How brave, little brother?

He squares his shoulders. Brave enough.

You’re coming outside with me. As soon as it’s dark, we’re going to see the wolves.

Henrik swallows the fear pounding in his chest and nods solemnly. It’s not a good idea to argue with Nik on the best of days.

And Nik has been far from calm of late.

Henrik can only guess exactly why—the intricacies have been kept from him, the youngest. There was a fight, he knows, between Father and Niklaus—a massive one. Mother got involved, which she rarely does. Elijah has all but disappeared. All his siblings can barely look at each other now.

Even Henrik’s friends in the village seem to know more about this than he. They stare at him while whispering behind their hands.

Nik’s behavior has become unpredictable and unsettling. Instead of his usual icy calm, he is bristly and on edge. The one time Henrik approaches him, he hisses a rejection that borders on a threat. (Hold your tongue, if you want to keep it. Leave.)

What’s wrong with him? he asks Bekah, who understands Nik better than anyone but Elijah.

Rebekah strokes Henrik’s hair, her gaze never leaving Nik. He’s lonely. Father sent Elijah away on a scouting trip.

Kol scoffs from where he lounges nearby. More like he forbade them from seeing each other.

Why? Henrik asks, ears perking up. He’s desperate for any scrap of news, any explanation for what has torn a hole in his family.

A wicked smile grows on Kol’s face. No one’s told you yet? Father caught them f—

Kol. Rebekah’s tone is suddenly harsh, her grip on Henrik’s shoulder hardening to iron. Stop it.

Henrik’s gaze darts between them. No, why would Father forbid them? What did they do?

Nothing. She articulates each syllable clearly at Kol as he struts away, still smirking.

She smiles down at Henrik, although her expression is far from reassuring. It’s all right. Father’s just cross. Kol is just being childish.

She won’t explain any further, no matter what he asks her. (Sometimes he hates being the youngest.)

So he still doesn’t understand why Nik’s eyes blaze with anger as he all but drags Henrik outside. Why his grip is rock hard, why his jaw clenches and turns his expression to stone.

Elijah has returned—Henrik even saw them speak earlier before they descended into the safety of the caves.

So where does his rage come from?

Why me, Nik? Why are you bringing me along? Why not Elijah? Why not Bekah?

Niklaus jerks to a stop, chest heaving. He turns and looks down at Henrik. His lips twist with something like disdain.

Elijah wouldn’t come, he explains tightly. I don’t want any of the others.

Why am I here?

I want you to see the wolves, little brother. I want you to feel the rush of danger. I want you to prove you’re braver than Elijah.

They are outside by now, and dusk is truly falling. Nighttime sounds are loud in Henrik’s ears. The village is deserted.

Niklaus turns to him, eyes burning through an otherwise blank and calm expression.

Perhaps Henrik is imagining how his skin glows in the moonlight.

We’ll have to climb a tree. The wolves are vicious when they turn.

The tree Nik chooses has slim, delicate branches. Henrik must test each of them before letting his weight rest on a new place.

Niklaus darts ahead of him, quicker and more nimble in his movements.

A loud, animal whine stretches out through the forest. Henrik’s palms begin to sweat. His limbs tremble with every movement.

Nik. Nik, wait up.

His older brother pauses, staring down at him with pale, haughty eyes. He lounges lithely across two branches, seemingly without any effort—almost lazily.

Suppose we’re high enough. They’ll see us no matter how far we climb.

Henrik pants as he hauls himself up, level with Nik. Now what?

Niklaus tilts his head up to the full moon in the sky. Now we wait.

Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howls.

Henrik lets the night air cool his sweaty face. Sneaks a peek at Niklaus. Watches him fume as he drinks in the moonlight.

He doesn’t know where the courage comes from for him to blurt, What happened between you and Father?

Nik’s reply is clipped. He saw something he shouldn’t have.

You and…Elijah? He can’t imagine their crime.

Elijah still fears him. More than I thought.

Is that why he wouldn’t come tonight? Father wouldn’t let him?

He should have been here. I wanted to share this with him.

I’m sorry, Nik. (Somehow, he is. Despite everything, he feels for his most unknowable brother.)

Me too. He almost smiles.

Henrik almost relaxes.

Then Niklaus shakes his long hair out of his face. Tell me, little brother, have you ever loved someone?

Of course. Mother. Rebekah. Finn, Kol, Elijah…you. He tacks the last word on hastily. (He already knows he must not mention Father.)

Not…no. He exhales sharply. Have you ever loved someone with everything you are?

The moon seems to grow bigger in the sky. Closer. Brighter. Nik cannot seem to keep his eyes off it.

Have you ever felt love for someone that burns you from the inside out? Makes you hungry for them?

You want to own them—devour them. Your skin doesn’t feel right unless it’s touching theirs. That love is the only thing that keeps you feeling human.

Henrik can say, with certainty, he has never felt anything like that in his fourteen years. I…

The woods come alive with howls. Henrik grips the tree even tighter.

Niklaus does not react to the cue in the slightest. His eyes are wild. Crazed. Have you ever felt a love you’d do anything for? Bleed for? Hurt? Kill?

He growls, driving his forehead into the trunk of the tree. What do I have to do? How do I make him listen? I can’t feel like this anymore. How do you do it? How can you stand it?

Henrik is frozen. He isn’t sure Niklaus is speaking to him anymore.

I did everything. Why isn’t he mine?

You mean Elijah. His voice shakes as he offers their older brother’s name. What little he understands of Nik’s ramblings, he knows it has to do with Elijah.

I want him beside me. I need him here. You, little brother, he snarls, are no substitute.

I’m sorry. I—I don’t know what to do.

His eyebrows raise. Convince him he was wrong to stay behind tonight.

How do I do that?

You can’t.

Henrik’s heart pounds under his ribs. Nik, let’s go. We’ll go home. You just need to talk to him. He’ll listen. He loves you, I know he does.

We can’t go home, he says, smoothly cutting across Henrik’s babbling. They’re here.

Wolves have caught their scent. Running through the forest, the pack stops under the tree they’ve taken refuge in.

They growl and bark and claw at the tree trunk. They leap in the air, trying to reach the two humans, whose legs hang tantalizingly low.

One catches Henrik’s boot.

There’s no pain, not yet. He knows he will feel it later, when they get home to Mother.

(If they get home to Mother.)

He starts to slip from the tree. He hugs the branch desperately, begging Nik to pull him up. Please. Please help me.

Niklaus surveys him with a blank face. Says nothing. Does nothing.

It occurs to him, just before. What Nik might be thinking under that cold, angry stare.

This will convince him.

Henrik’s fingers give out.

He feels a rush of panic as he falls, the night air whipping past him. (He knows it’s going to hurt.)

Nik’s empty expression shrinks into darkness. It’s the last thing he sees before he hits the ground.

After that, nothing.

More boyking snippets

AO3

[kylermalloy]

Set in the boyking!Klaus AU

He stares too much.

He has your eyes, Esther points out.

Mikael can’t look at them. They are too pale, too cold. They don’t blink as much as they should.

His third son has only lived five winters, and Mikael is terrified of him.

When his eyes are not following Elijah, they are watching Mikael. Studying him, evaluating weaknesses. Mikael swears he can feel the weight of Niklaus’s gaze, even when his back is turned. Hairs prickle on the nape of his neck.

A warrior must always be on his guard. This is what Mikael’s father taught him, and what he teaches his sons.

Niklaus takes it to heart and sits up through the night, whittling stray sticks into sharpened points. Staring across the room, his gaze fixed on Mikael.

Mikael sleeps with one eye open, one hand on his knife.

Do a spell, he entreats Esther. Use your magic. Or have Ayana do it, if you cannot.

Look inside that boy and pull out what’s wrong.

His wife raises an eyebrow at him. There is nothing wrong. You simply think he’s too soft.

He is not too soft, Mikael thinks. The boy is hardened beyond his years. His eyes have seen a thousand things too old for his little mind.

Even in his softest moments—always with Elijah—there is a callous determination to his actions. The way he takes Elijah’s chin in one hand, forcing the older boy’s attention on him and only him. The way he blinks his eyes to draw Elijah’s attention—those pale eyes, glittering with an unyielding resolve.

The way he speaks and arrests Elijah as though speaking directly into his soul. Voice whispering honey sweet from his pink smiling lips.

He’s soft, Mikael will concede. But soft in all the wrong ways.

[kylermalloy]

Set in the boyking!Klaus AU

There is something wrong with Niklaus.

He is born early, Esther says, but strong.

He has strong lungs, at least. His cries wake half the village at night. Even Esther tires of soothing him.

But not Elijah.

Elijah, whose cheeks have not lost their baby fat, whose solemn demeanor seems out of place on a boy who has barely lived four winters. He takes to Niklaus in a way Finn never has. (Finn has never taken to Niklaus, nor to Elijah himself. Unlike Freya, he is ill-suited to the role of eldest.)

Elijah holds his brother tight, murmurs words past his sharp, piercing cries, until Niklaus quiets.

Only for Elijah.

As the boy grows, he does not outgrow this habit. If he wakes in the night, Elijah is there in a heartbeat to hold him, soothe him back to sleep.

Mikael swears Niklaus smiles with satisfaction.

When Kol is born, he cries too. Loud and insistent, demanding the safety of someone’s arms—the security all infants crave. Elijah rolls over and covers Niklaus’s ears to block out the noise.

.

His voice is like a faerie’s call to Elijah. One cry is all it takes to summon him.

While Elijah hunts with Finn and some other village boys, Niklaus trips at home and nicks his arm with a blade. His piercing scream barely reaches Mikael’s ears, but within minutes Elijah is back from the woods, casting aside his bow and game to cradle his little brother.

What can be wrong? Esther wonders at Mikael’s seething anger. They share a bond. Our children should protect each other.

It’s too much, Mikael wants to reply. It’s an inadequate description.

Niklaus only smiles inside his brother’s embrace. Not a contented smile, either—it’s triumphant, self-satisfied. When he meets Mikael’s eyes with a smile, Mikael swears he’s gloating.

It’s not right. Something is not right.

[kylermalloy]

Me opening my WIP after almost a month

[kylermalloy]

Set in the boyking!Klaus AU

They carve their names in the cave. Rebekah does her own, although Father has forbidden her to use a blade.

Niklaus scratches his name so the letters artfully entwine with Elijah’s.

.

“I’ll be gentle,” Niklaus promises. He runs the flat of his blade down Elijah’s cheek.

Elijah’s heart beats into his throat. His legs twitch, as if trying to run away.

But his brother’s sweet gaze pins him down. He nods and relents.

Niklaus’s smile shines like the sun.

Elijah lies on his side, holding a blanket to his chest like a child. He bites into the cloth when the pain flares.

The knife is sharp, and Niklaus is skilled. With the blade he opens shallow cuts, a series of small, interconnected slices up Elijah’s hip.

Every touch, every cut, is full of tenderness. Niklaus strokes his bare skin comfortingly each time Elijah flinches or hisses in pain.

He cleans away the welling blood with his tongue.

“Easy, brother,” he breathes into Elijah’s hair. “I would never hurt you.”

Elijah believes him. He rests his forehead on his brother’s knee and hums a tune in his mind.

When Niklaus is finished, a word is carved in runes on Elijah’s side. The same word he carved in stone, in a cave no one will see for centuries.

Niklaus.

Elijah lets him bind the cuts and brush away his tears of pain.

He lifts Elijah’s head and rests it on his lap. Elijah closes his eyes and lets his brother’s touch slow his pounding heart.

Niklaus places one hand on Elijah’s chest. “You’re afraid,” he breathes. Softly. Disbelievingly.

Elijah turns his head upward to meet Niklaus’s eyes. “Not of you,” he half-lies.

Niklaus smiles, his eyes glinting with hunger. “No worry. Your fear is delicious.” He leans down, inhaling Elijah’s scent and covering his throat with kisses.

.

The wounds heal quickly. Small white lines on Elijah’s side. He winces when someone touches them unknowingly.

Niklaus traces them at night. With his fingers, with his tongue.

.

Tatia is the only one to get close enough to notice.

“Have you been hurt?” Her fingers probe over his thin shirt where Elijah flinches.

Luckily, the night hides their exact nature. “An old accident.”

.

When Mikael discovers them, he sees the scars.

He slashes through them with a blade of his own, ruining Niklaus’s perfect work.

Elijah grows sick at the thought of what his brother would do, if he knew.

(They become vampires before he finds out. Their skin smooths over, all scars erased. Elijah is almost relieved.)

More boyking snippets

AO3

[kylermalloy]

Set in the boyking!Klaus AU

Rebekah gasps when she sees Elijah changing his shirt. “Lijah, what happened to you?”

Bruises pepper his neck, his shoulders, his hips. Small, but dark. Intense. Fresh.

Niklaus’s gaze snaps to her at the use of his name for Elijah.

Elijah hurries to put on his new shirt, hiding the marks.

“Were you in a fight?” Rebekah’s concern pitches her voice high. Elijah’s not the one to get in fights. That would be Kol—or Nik.

Elijah will not meet her eyes. “Something like that.”

His lip is swollen too, she notices.

She cannot stop herself from asking, “Did you win?”

“Not quite, Bekah,” Nik interjects. His hand creeps around Elijah’s throat to finger one bruise, still visible above his collar. “He was bested. In fact, I’d say he was torn to pieces.”

Nik’s smile is positively gleeful.

“Niklaus, please.”

“What? You were practically begging for mercy.”

Rebekah wonders what manner of fight would have Elijah plead for mercy while Nik stood by and let him be beaten.

“Brother…”

“You know I love when you lose control. That helpless look in your eyes.”

Elijah ducks his head as color rushes to his cheeks.

Rebekah leaves them to their playful quarrel. There’s no stopping Nik when he wants Elijah’s attention. As usual, they seem to be speaking a language she does not understand.

“That wrinkle in your brow. Let me smooth it out.”

“Niklaus.”

“Just one kiss.”

“Later. She’ll see.”

“No, now. You’re too pretty to look so worried.”

Rebekah turns around long enough to see Niklaus embracing Elijah from behind, with his hands inside Elijah’s shirt. He drops a kiss on Elijah’s cheek, letting his lips linger there.

Elijah’s eyes are closed, his brow indeed wrinkled in some worry or conflict.

Niklaus catches her staring. “Eyes forward, little sister.” His hand curls around Elijah’s jaw possessively.

She hurries on her way.

“Going to kiss you now.”

“Nikla—”

(She does not understand.)

More boyking snippets

[kylermalloy]

How’s the writing?

Hello, lovely anon! As luck would have it, the writing is going great today!

We got a random, gigantic snow dump this weekend, so I am home from work—and actually getting a lot of writing done. (Don’t tell my students—or my boss.) The view outside my window belongs on a Christmas card, which I suppose is a great motivator?

(One of the prettier pictures I took when I went outside—that is seven inches of snow, people! We haven’t had that much snow here in almost a decade.)

Anyway, today I’ve been mainly focusing on my newest obsession, vampire!Al. But I did open my boyking WIP for the first time in weeks, too! The hiatus seems to have given me fresh ideas, which I am very excited about.

Since you are so nice to ask, I’ll give a little sneak peek of what I’ve been writing!

From the vampire!Al AU:

He moans in relief. Tightens his arms around Ed’s neck.

His lips break from brother’s skin with a soft pop, reminiscent of a kiss.

And this one is from the boyking AU:

Her honey-golden boy. Her secret joy with sunshine in his hair. He put those marks on her noble son. Esther can hardly breathe.

Elijah’s eyes are empty under Mikael’s touch.

Niklaus, how long?

He is stretched out shirtless on his sleeping pallet. Since the beginning. You put me in his arms before I was an hour old.

[kylermalloy]

Set in the boyking!Klaus AU

His eyes, Mikael insists to Esther. His eyes aren’t right. They glow. I’ve seen them.

Esther surveys him, unimpressed. You are exhausted, my love. You’ve not been sleeping. You jolt awake in the night. Perhaps a sleeping draught to help?

I do not need an enchantment, he spits. He needs to deal with Niklaus, his devil child.

It is some kind of magic, he knows.

Elijah is a man now, and no man in his right mind would allow his brother to touch him in the ways Niklaus does. It isn’t right.

.

He grabs Niklaus by the hair and pins him to the wall. Keep your hands off him.

Niklaus smiles, unrepentant. There are no pretenses with this one. Without Esther around, without Elijah, there is no facade. No one to pretend for. Isn’t he pretty, Father. Don’t tell me you haven’t wanted to touch him.

Mikael hits him. Hits him until his hands bleed, until the boy should be unconscious.

No cry of pain crosses his lips. No tears wet his eyes, those too-bright eyes. He simply stares.

No matter what Mikael does, the boy will not be moved.

You cannot have him. You will not tear him away from us.

Niklaus blinks through his swelling eye. He stares up at Mikael with cold, mocking pity. Oh, Father. He’s already mine.

Mikael can only imagine what he means by that.

You are a blight on this family. A stain. An abomination. He lands another blow, to no avail.

I will tell your mother, he hisses with increasing desperation. I will tell everyone what you are.

Niklaus’s eyes remain cold and hard. A wicked smirk stretches across his blood-flecked lips. (He looks unhinged.) It matters not. No one will believe you. No one ever does.

When Esther and Elijah stumble across the scene, Esther demands to know the boy’s crime. Mikael cannot explain beyond he spoke out of turn.

Niklaus curls in on himself. He moans—a cry meant to attract pity.

This is far beyond punishment for speaking out of turn, Esther says dryly. Come. I’ll make you a draught. Elijah, tend to your brother.

Lijah, Niklaus whimpers. He lets out a sniffle—with his brother there, tears have finally begun to flow.

Elijah goes to him, gathers him in his arms. Niklaus positions himself on his brother’s lap—even though they are far too old for such things. His legs wind around Elijah’s waist.

As Esther leads Mikael away, he glances back to catch Niklaus’s smug smile, unseen by Elijah or Esther.

No one will believe you. No one ever does.

Elijah wipes his tears away, lost in those shining blue eyes.

He’s already mine.

More boyking snippets

[kylermalloy]

I’m starting a taglist for the boyking!Klaus AU, since it’s not going away anytime soon. If you want to be tagged when I post a new snippet, like or comment on this post!

[kylermalloy]

You wrote a glimpse into their other siblings—Finn and Kol and I’m curious about their reactions to the whole thing that’s happening between Niklaus&Elijah!

Yuki! Thanks for the question!! ♥️

So funnily enough, this comes up a little bit in the draft I have now—especially Finn’s reaction. In this snippet, he asks Elijah when he’s going to stop being “Nik’s plaything.”

Finn, the ever-distant older brother, sees how Klaus is and can’t fathom how anyone would willingly submit to that. He thinks Elijah weak, that indulging Klaus will “spoil him.” (Meanwhile, Niklaus laughs somewhere offscreen, because he’s already spoiled, very much, in every sense of the word.)

And Kol? I briefly touched on him Not Wanting To Hear when Rebekah brings up Klaus and Elijah, but for the most part I feel like he’s a little detached from it. He finds it a little funny, a little embarrassing, but at the end of the day Kol is kind of self-absorbed, and he’s got enough to worry about, what with magic and girls and all the pretty things in the village he can pilfer before someone notices. Whatever Nik and Elijah have going on, it’s Not His Problem.

As a bonus, I’ll touch on Henrik too! He hasn’t come up much, just a brief mention and a tiny cameo. But I very much feel like Henrik is afraid of Klaus. Unlike Rebekah and Kol, they weren’t all babies together—Klaus already fully embraced his boyking(TM) energy by the time Henrik came along. All Henrik sees in Niklaus is the son who insults Father to his face without fear, and who has a scary smile. But despite that, he still wants to impress him. And he will want to prove that he’s brave and go see the wolves. And it will end in tragedy

[kylermalloy]

Set in the boyking!Klaus AU

“Lijah, see what I’ve found.” Niklaus holds something up.

Elijah recognizes it. A cord of woven grass, just wide enough to fit over the wrist of someone delicate. A single green stone dangles from the circlet.

He’s the one who made it—he spent a week of evenings crafting the bracelet for a girl in the village.

Marit has long golden hair, a narrow face, and a husky but pleasant voice. She remarked to Elijah the beauty of his mother’s green stones—he replied they would suit her eyes.

She smiled when he presented his gift to her, touching his arm in flustered thanks.

“I found it on the ground, near the fire pit.” Niklaus brushes at a spot of soot on his knee.

Elijah stands. With one hand he lifts the green stone and studies it. “I gave this to Marit just yesterday.” He fastened it around her wrist himself. She walked away with a broad smile, cradling his gift like a tiny treasure.

That she would lose it, let it fall from her hand, or worse, purposely take it off and drop it by the fire—hoping it would burn?—hurts him more than he’d care to admit.

“I suppose she didn’t want it,” Niklaus muses. His pale blue gaze is fixed on Elijah.

Elijah’s heart sinks. Marit seemed to like him, seemed to enjoy his affections. She promised to wear his gift with what sounded like sincere words.

He can barely reply, “I suppose not.”

“What a shame.” Niklaus tilts his head to one side, studying the little trinket. “It’s beautiful.”

You’re beautiful, Elijah wants to say. His brother’s hair spills over his shoulders in gentle golden waves. It catches the sunlight and almost seems to glow.

He has finally begun to grow taller. A few years, and he will be the same height as Elijah. His voice has dropped, developing a husky timbre. His laugh is still the same—intoxicating and melodic. And he still knows how to make Elijah weak at the knees with only a few words.

Niklaus, admiring Elijah’s woven handiwork with a careful eye, is the most beautiful thing Elijah has seen all day. He wants nothing more than to tell him so.

Instead he says, “You can have it.”

“Really?” Niklaus peeks up at him with hopeful eyes.

“Of course, brother.” Elijah tucks Niklaus’s hair behind his ear, letting his hand trail down the side of his neck.

Niklaus wets his lips, forming a shy yet delighted smile. Elijah imagines running his thumb over his brother’s lips, parting them, feeling his warm breath...

He stops.

Niklaus has yet to see his fourteenth winter. He's still young, still delicate. It’s still Elijah’s job to protect him.

To love him, the way a brother should.

“Will you…?” Niklaus holds the cord out with an expectant expression. His eyes sparkle, full of emotion.

Elijah ties it around his wrist securely, running his finger over the color pattern of greens and browns he spent so long crafting.

In the light of day, there’s a brighter streak of color in it. Orange, maybe. Or red.

Niklaus lets his fingers ghost across Elijah’s wrist. Elijah gasps and shivers as the sensation whispers up his arm, leaving behind a ripple of raised hairs and tingling skin. For a moment he can’t even move, lost in the sensation.

His brother knows how to break him with one touch.

Niklaus turns his hand over, lifting it to the sun, admiring his new trinket.

“It suits you,” Elijah tells him. His heart flutters a little, and he adds quietly, “More than Marit.” Her passive rejection still stings.

He turns and sits back on the ground, next to the sharpening stone where he hones Father’s blades.

He jumps when he feels breath on his cheek, lips brushing his ear. Niklaus leans over his shoulder. Strands of his golden hair tickle Elijah’s neck.

He croons in Elijah’s ear, voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t need her, anyway. Not when you have me.”

Maybe it’s accidental, the way his lips close over Elijah’s earlobe, teeth grazing skin for one heartbeat.

Elijah flinches, the blade in his hand slipping and opening a small cut on his thumb.

Niklaus huffs a laugh. He seems pleased to know the effect he has on Elijah.

.

Something about the bracelet rankles in the back of Elijah’s mind, and continues to do so the following day when Marit’s father leads a party into the woods to search for her.

No matter. The stone brings out the green in Niklaus’s eyes.

[kylermalloy]

WONDERFUL. Okay so. There’s so many things I love about it, Rebekah is clearly wishing she had her brother back, and oh my god you can FEEEL the heartache in your writing it’s so GOOD. and how unashamed Niklaus is, oh my god I love that little devil. And the way that Elijah just acts like he’s all poised and nothing can get to him, and yet when Rebekah calls him out talking about last night ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) and he just freezes up and then Niklaus just saunters over and casually slips his hand up elijah’s shirt- just. Hnn. Yes.

Ahhhh thank you, friend! I’m so glad you’re enjoying it.

I’m having the time of my life writing these little snippets, and somehow? Miraculously? My brain is like, you can have a little motivation. as a treat. So I’ve been banging them out like crazy. As soon as I finish one, I get an idea for another one. I’ve decided not to question it; I’ll just ride the wave of inspo for as long as I can!

I keep gravitating back to Rebekah as a POV character, because in the canon TVD!verse, she’s obviously very close with Nik and Elijah. So in this AU, she would feel left out, to say the least. She’s jealous of both of them—she wants Nik to look at her like that, and she wants Elijah to show her an ounce of the care he gives to Niklaus.

Elijah—oh do I love to torment him. (So does Klaus) He’s straddling that line between being the moral arbiter, the “noble Elijah,” and being absolutely, wildly, madly in love with his little brother. There’s nothing he can do to reconcile those two parts of himself, so he just ignores the dissonance—until Rebekah throws it in his face.

Niklaus on the other hand has absolutely no shame. I took some inspo from his canon personality, and mixed it up with some truly chilling SPN fic about boyking!Sam Winchester. (hence the title of the AU) I love Klaus’s canon trajectory, his tragic fall from sweet, beaten-down boy to raging sociopath, but I’ve also always wondered: what about that universe where he was just...born Like That? Where he’s not afraid of Mikael, where he has a degree of understanding that he won’t belong, and never will. Where he fully grasps that the love of his siblings (or...one of them) is enough for him, and he pursues it singlemindedly.

I have so much fun writing him interacting with Elijah. He’s shameless, and I get to be shameless for once. I get all the touches I never got in canon! The draft I’ve been working on today is basically just...that. Niklaus testing Elijah, seeing what will make him react, seeing if he can push him far enough. And all the while Elijah just sits and suffers in silence. It’s amazing. I’m having the time of my life.

Thank you so much for this ask! I am always down to talk about this AU, or any of the fics I’ve written before this!