#love that he’s voiced by Elijah Wood

[lime-oh-nade]

weird headcanon but I feel like he would listen to Nina Simone or Gary Numan do any of you guys get me

also WHO WROTE THAT LINE OF HIM CALLING HIMSELF A HANDSOME DEVIL I GOTTA FIND OUT BRO

[auspiciouscat]

Elijah Wood announcing his role as Jonathan Crane, in Batman: Arkham Shadow

[navygdraws]

what better way to start this than by sharing my profile pic, aka Wirt from Over the garden wall !!!

[wholoveseggs]

Dark Star {Part One}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Part One

{Elijah Mikaelson x f!Reader} Bound by love that defies centuries, Elijah Mikaelson will do whatever it takes to resurrect his lost wife. Even if it means forsaking everything he believes in. Once the north star guiding his family, his shattered heart now leads him down a darker path, transforming him into a version beyond redemption. A damned soul, drawing his family into an abyss they may never escape.

♡♡ Hello my lovely followers! This will be a six part series inspired by @njeancastro316 post about red door Elijah (Girl, I've been writing this non-stop since you tagged me! thank you for the inspo). I really put my whole heart into this one, {I even made a playlist to capture the vibes} exploring the depths of Elijah's character and his struggle between love and darkness. Enjoy! && expect pain... ♡♡

6.8k words - Warnings: angst, angst and more angst, grief, heartbreak, intense violence, red door Elijah, emotional turmoil, so much Mikaelson family drama {the whole gang is here && some faves from Mystic Falls will show up later}, No smut in this part, but prepare for plenty of darkness... oh! && croissants...

{Part Two}{Part Three}{Part Four}{Part Five}{Part Six}

@gorgeouslydangerous @starkleila @lydia1369sworld @notleylaaa @vampiresluv

@myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming

@spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse

@cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2

@itsjulzandmydiamonds @witch-of-letters @elijahstwink @rosecentury

@amanda08319 @starshipcookie @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28

@sunkissedebony97 @idk00sblog @savannaounana @sekaishell @b1tchy

@loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy @hcqwxrtss123 @iamawkwardandshy @ziayamikaelson

@absolutemarveltrash @darkened-writer @nina6708 @evasmlp

@madeinmyownmind-blog @lovelyy-moonlight @blacknightrises @poppet05 @sweetieseven

@xoxo-shy @nova-j @decaffeinatedparadisepost @fandom-princess-forevermore

Prologue ~ Europe 13th Century

"This way!" A boy laughed as he darted beneath a low-hanging branch. Behind him, a small girl hurried along, lifting her skirt to keep up, her breath catching in short gasps.

"Slow down! Wait for me!" she called, tripping over roots and brambles in her haste. "I can't run as fast as you!"

The boy glanced back, grinning. "Then hurry, will you."

"We ought to be home by now." She replied, frowning.

"We are almost there," he replied, leaping over a fallen branch before turning to face her, eyes gleaming. "We can get home quicker through the woods."

"I don’t like it," she murmured, clutching her skirt tighter. Shadows crept over the path as the sun sank lower, casting an orange glow through the dense branches. "The hour grows late."

The boy shook his head, catching her hand with a reassuring squeeze. "We’ll be fine. It’s only a short way."

Reluctantly, she nodded, holding onto him. "If anything ill should happen, I’ll tell Mother."

He only laughed, tugging her down the narrow path. "If something ill happens, you may not get the chance!"

Their laughter echoed in the stillness as they raced ahead. The trees grew taller, their branches clawing toward the darkening sky, while thick underbrush crowded the trail, rustling with each step. Yet the children, lost in their game, scarcely noticed, laughing and squealing as they chased one another.

Then, a sound, a subtle, almost a whisper, seeped through the quiet. The girl stopped, clutching the boy’s arm. “Did you hear that?”

“What is it?”

“Shh,” she hissed, pulling him closer, her wide eyes searching the shadows. "Listen."

They stood in silence, the air heavy and still, broken only by their own quickening breaths.

“It’s nothing. Perhaps a deer-”

“No, it’s more than that,” she whispered. Somewhere ahead, faint and distant, came the flicker of firelight. And with it, laughter. Wild and strange.

“What is that?” the boy asked, his voice barely a breath.

“Quiet,” she said, creeping forward, pulling him toward the light.

They peered out from behind a tree, breath catching at the sight before them. A great fire blazed, roaring into the sky as shadows twisted around it. Two figures danced wildly around the flames, naked, their skin smeared with red and ash. Their laughter, sharp and otherworldly, pierced the night air.

The girl’s scream barely escaped her lips before the boy’s hand clamped over her mouth, pulling her back. They stumbled, clutching one another, then turned and fled, racing down the trail as fast as their little legs would carry them, branches clawing at their clothes.

By the time they burst into the village, their faces were pale, their breaths ragged. Villagers gathered around as the children stumbled forward, pointing frantically toward the woods.

“Demons!” the girl gasped, clutching at the skirts of the nearest woman. “They’re out there! In the forest!”

There was a hushed sadness over the compound. The lights seemed to have dimmed, and the atmosphere hung heavy, cold and suffocating. It had been that way since the night Elijah found your lifeless body on the cold pavement. The night that changed everything.

Rebekah didn’t like it here anymore. Her home felt more like a tomb than a residence. It was too quiet, too full of memories and emotions too painful to confront. Her big brother was suffering, and there was nothing she could do to help him.

She found Klaus sitting in the courtyard, staring blankly at a chessboard. The pieces were scattered, mid-game, but his focus seemed to drift in and out. Normally, this contemplative silence from him made her nervous, but today she couldn’t muster the energy to care. The weight of everything was too much.

“Any news?” Rebekah asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Klaus didn’t move, didn’t speak at first. He shifted a chess piece absentmindedly and shrugged.

The sound of Marcel’s footsteps echoed through the stillness of the courtyard. She felt one of his warm hands rest gently on the small of her back, and she leaned into him, drawing comfort from his presence.

“I’ve been asking around. Only lead I have is that he’s somewhere in Europe,” Marcel said, his voice sounding hollow.

“Well, where in Europe?” Klaus finally spoke, his gaze never leaving the board.

“Don’t know. Haven’t pinpointed his exact location yet,” Marcel sighed. “But he’s been killing low-level Strix members, leaving bodies in his wake.”

Klaus scoffed softly, moving another piece on the board. “Keep looking,”

“You almost sound like you care,” Rebekah hissed, glaring at him.

“Don’t start with me, little sister,” Klaus warned, his voice low and sharp.

“Elijah has always been there for us,” she snapped, “And when he needs our help, where are you? Sitting here, playing chess with yourself.”

Klaus’s fist slammed down on the chessboard, sending the pieces flying across the table. He stood abruptly, stalking toward her, his eyes blazing. But Rebekah didn’t flinch, didn’t step back. She held his glare with her own, unrelenting.

“What do you want me to do?” Klaus roared, his voice cracking as his anger gave way to the grief simmering beneath. “Tell me, Rebekah. How do I fix this?”

“I want you to find him!” she screamed, tears stinging her eyes. “He’s our brother, Nik!”

Klaus’s shoulders slumped. His rage deflated, leaving him hollow. “I don’t know how to fix this, little sister,” he admitted quietly.

Marcel cleared his throat, stepping forward. “Maybe we should give him some time. Let him mourn her.”

“He’s not mourning, Marcel,” Klaus growled, clenching his jaw. “He’s murdering. He hasn’t even accepted that she’s dead.”

Rebekah and Marcel exchanged worried glances.

“We can’t just let him destroy himself,” Rebekah argued, her voice breaking. “Wherever he is, whoever crosses his path... they’re doomed. He’s out of control.”

“He’s changed,” Marcel muttered, rubbing his temple. “I’ve never seen him like this. So violent, so volatile.”

“That’s why I’m worried, Nik,” Rebekah said, her tone deadly serious. “If he’s not stopped, the Elijah we know will be gone. He will become a monster.”

Klaus looked down at the shattered chess pieces scattered across the table. “We are monsters, Rebekah,” he whispered, his voice raw.

“No, Nik,” she said, her voice trembling. “Not like this.”

Klaus remained silent for a moment, then lifted his gaze to meet hers. “Suppose someone took Marcellus from you. What would you do?”

“I would raze this earth and dance on the ashes,” she answered without hesitation, the fire of her love and loyalty burning bright in her eyes.

“That’s what he’s doing,” Klaus said darkly.

“Yes,” Rebekah agreed, “but Elijah would come for me. He would find me, and help me, keep me from losing myself. Now he’s the one who needs help.”

“How do we stop him?” Marcel asked, though his voice was laden with doubt.

Klaus shook his head slowly. “We don’t.”

“Nik…” Rebekah started, her voice pleading.

“We contain the damage,” Klaus cut her off, the steely resolve returning to his voice. “I’ll go to Europe. I’ll bring him back.”

Rebekah exhaled, relief flooding through her, and she pulled Klaus into a tight hug. She didn’t say anything, just held him as though her arms alone could keep the family from falling apart. He hugged her back, and for a moment, the cracks in their family seemed to close.

Marcel stood behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder and squeezing gently.

When she finally pulled away, Rebekah gave her brother a sad smile. “Be careful.”

Klaus nodded. “I will.”

His eyes flicked to Marcel, and the two men exchanged a knowing look. They both understood how dangerous this was. That if Elijah couldn’t be saved, they might lose him forever.

Or worse... they might have to put him down.

Two members of the Strix walked side by side, their steps echoing off the marble floors. One glanced around nervously, eyeing the high-tech security measures surrounding them, cameras in every corner, reinforced steel doors, layers of magical barriers.

"Is this really necessary? I can't stand being cooped up here. What's the point?" the taller vampire complained, his voice echoing through the empty corridor.

"Protocol," the other replied, his tone bored. "You know how paranoid Tristan can be. But I’m telling you, no one's getting in here. Not even him."

"I don’t get it. We had nothing to do with her death. Why are we hiding?"

"He doesn’t know that." The second vampire shook his head, his eyes flicking toward a monitor displaying multiple feeds from around the compound. “And he doesn’t seem to care about guilt or innocence anymore.”

They stopped at a reinforced door, pressing their palms to the scanners. As the heavy doors slid open, the two shared a final glance, the reality sinking in that even their supposed impenetrable defenses might not be enough.

They stepped into the dim room, illuminated only by the flickering light of the chandelier hanging above a long oak table. Strix members filled the chairs, their faces tense and uneasy. They had gathered in secret, far from prying eyes. Whispers of fear and uncertainty drifted across the room, but no one dared to speak above a murmur. The air was heavy with dread, and no one felt safe.

At the head of the table, Aya stood, her sharp gaze cutting through the room like a blade. She had always been the picture of composure, a pillar of strength, but now, her patience was thinning, her power waning, cracks in her armor where fear leaked through. Beside her, Tristan de Martel leaned casually in his chair, an amused smile playing on his lips, as if this was all a game to him. His eyes scanned the room, taking in the faces of his fellow Strix members, reveling in their discomfort.

“We all know why we’re here,” Aya began, her voice cold and steady, but there was an underlying tension to it, like a string about to snap. “Our ranks are thinning, and the reason is no secret.”

A murmur rippled through the room. Heads turned, glances were exchanged. They knew. Everyone knew.

“Elijah Mikaelson,” Tristan added, his voice smooth and casual, as if he were discussing the weather. His eyes gleamed with a cruel delight. “The noble brother has gone rogue. It seems the death of his beloved has… unraveled him.”

"That's an interesting way of putting it," one Strix member commented, his voice dripping with disdain. "He ripped apart fifty of my men, left a trail of bodies and witnesses, it took me days to cover it all up,"

"And how many vampires has he killed since then? Hundreds? Thousands?" another voice chimed in, sounding bitter.

"You're just scared," another vampire challenged, his tone mocking.

"Of course, we're scared. Do you know what he's capable of?" the first vampire hissed, baring his teeth.

"Silence," Aya ordered, her tone icy. The room fell quiet, the air crackling with tension. "We cannot defeat him, nor can we sit by and wait for him to tear us apart. He has lost his humanity, and it's clear that we must take action."

"We have already taken action and all it does is piss him off," the Strix member grumbled, "I have no interest in fighting a losing battle."

"You're a coward," Aya snarled, her eyes flashing with anger.

"What would you have us do?" another vampire spoke up, their voice strained, "We're no match for him."

"Perhaps we should consider a bargain," Tristan suggested, a sly smirk creeping across his lips. "Find the killer, deliver them to him, and save ourselves the trouble of being murdered."

The members murmured amongst themselves, some seeming open to the idea, while others still appeared wary.

"I cannot fathom why someone would be so foolish. Surely the person who did this knows the repercussions," a member said, a hint of fear in their voice.

Tristan's smile widened. "They were foolish indeed, and now they are the most hunted man, or woman, in the world,"

Aya's face was impassive, her mind racing. She had no doubt that Elijah would tear down the world to find his killer, and if the Strix didn't deliver them, he would do the same to their ranks. Tristan's indifference infuriated her. While he sat there with a smile, the Strix were suffering the consequences of his poor leadership.

A soft little cough pulled her from her thoughts, and she looked up to see a small girl standing at the other end of the table. She looked no older than twelve, with delicate features and wide, doe-like eyes. She looked lost, and this wasn't a place you could just wander into.

Other members noticed her presence and got to their feet, the scraping of chairs echoing off the walls. Aya narrowed her eyes, taking in the girl's appearance.

"Who are you?" Aya asked, her voice sharp.

The girl was clearly terrified, her hands shaking, and she looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Aya found it strange. She didn't sense the power of a witch coming off her, she was just a girl, and a very young one at that.

"I-I'm sorry," the girl stammered, her voice barely a whisper, "I don't know why I'm here. I just woke up here and now, I-I'm scared,"

"How did you get in here?" Aya questioned, her voice low and menacing.

"A nice man told me to come here," the girl mumbled, her eyes darting around the room, taking in the tense, hostile atmosphere. "He wanted me to talk to you."

Aya raised an eyebrow. "And why would he want that?"

The girl shrugged, her eyes brimming with tears. "I don't know, please, I just want to go home,"

"What did he look like?" Aya pressed, her voice growing louder.

"He had dark hair, and brown eyes," the girl sniffled, trying to hold back her sobs.

Tristan's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing dangerously. The room was suddenly silent, the tension now unbearable. Aya stared at the girl, her face an unreadable mask, but inside, her mind was racing.

"What did he want you to say?" Aya asked, her voice quiet, dangerous.

The girl’s breath hitched, her words barely audible. "That... he will give all of you a slow death."

The temperature in the room plummeted, and a cold shiver ran down Aya’s spine. She struggled to hide her unease, but the implication was clear: Elijah had infiltrated their sanctuary.

"A-and that... if I can get in..." The girl gulped, her small voice quaking, "He can too."

The room fell into a suffocating silence as the weight of her words settled on the group. Tristan shot up from his chair, his face dark with fury.

“Lockdown procedures. Now.” Tristan barked, his voice commanding and harsh.

"What about the girl?" Aya asked, her eyes narrowing as she looked at the trembling child. Her instincts told her something wasn’t right.

"Kill her," Tristan spat, his voice cold and merciless. "She’s served her purpose."

The room erupted into chaos. Sirens blared as the compound went into immediate lockdown. The lights flickered, dimming to an eerie glow. The Strix moved quickly, vanishing into the shadows, their bodies blurring as they scattered, heading for safe rooms or exit points.

Aya hesitated for a moment, her gaze still fixed on the girl. She started toward her, but a voice in her head warned her against it. With one last glance, she turned and hurried toward the safe room.

The little girl stood trembling in the darkness, tears streaming down her face. The once-imposing vampires had fled, leaving her all alone in the icy silence.

"It's okay, sweetheart," a voice purred from the shadows, smooth and calming. The girl gasped, her heart racing as she felt a hand on her shoulder, firm yet oddly comforting.

She turned to see a tall man standing behind her, his dark hair framing his sharp features, his kind eyes watching her closely. "Run along now," he said softly, giving her a gentle push toward the door.

The girl nodded quickly, wiping her tears before scampering away, the door sliding shut behind her with a soft hiss.

Elijah watched her go, his kind smile fading as the room returned to darkness. His eyes glinted coldly, the warmth in them vanishing like smoke. Slowly, the veins beneath his eyes darkened, spreading like cracks in the surface of his calm exterior.

He was already inside.

As the sirens echoed, he vanished into the shadows once more, his presence like a gathering storm. And what followed this storm, was pure, unrelenting destruction.

The soft drone of a news broadcast drifted through an abandoned loft, dust floating through the air. The heavy velvet curtains were drawn, the room dark and shadowy, save for the light of a flickering TV. The anchor woman's face was somber, her voice solemn.

“Une tragédie a frappé Paris la nuit dernière... un incendie dévastateur a détruit un immeuble historique, laissant peu de traces de ce qui s’y trouvait. Les autorités locales confirment que l’origine du feu demeure inconnue, mais la rapidité à laquelle il s’est propagé soulève des questions.”

Subtitles scrolled across the bottom of the screen in English: "A tragic accident struck Paris last night... a devastating fire destroyed a historic building, leaving few traces of what was inside. Local authorities confirm that the cause of the fire is unknown, but the speed at which it spread raises questions."

The camera cut to images of the smoldering wreckage. Blackened stone, twisted metal, and fire trucks still spraying water over what little remained.

Elijah wasn't paying attention to the TV anymore; he had his head in his hands, hunched over in a chair, his body wracked with sobs. Bodies were strewn about the room, blood spattered on the walls and floors. A macabre painting of violence and rage. The sight of the lifeless forms weighed heavily on him, a chilling reminder of his own actions.

He didn't know how long he had been there, but it felt like an eternity. Each day blended into the next, the hours stretching into a meaningless void. Days would go by where he felt utterly detached, lost in a sea of grief and loss, and then the anger would return, awakening him to a new trail of bodies. There were so many, too many, and yet it wasn't enough.

“Les témoins affirment avoir vu des ombres avant que l’incendie n’éclate, mais aucune preuve tangible n’a été trouvée. Des sources proches de l’enquête évoquent une possible attaque ciblée, bien que les détails restent flous.”

"Witnesses reported seeing shadows before the fire broke out, but no physical evidence has been found. Sources close to the investigation say there may have been a targeted attack, though details remain unclear."

"You used a child? My love, what has become of you?"

Elijah didn't flinch, didn't react as he felt your arms wrap around his shoulders, your lips pressing a gentle kiss on his cheek. Your voice was soft, tinged with sadness and disappointment. He hated himself for it.

"She's fine," Elijah said, his voice strained, barely able to meet your gaze.

"You don't know that," you sighed, your hands moving to his chest, trying to soothe him. "And you know this isn't the way,"

"There is no other way," he replied, his voice cracking, desperation lacing his words.

"You used an innocent child, one not much older than Hope," you said, a hint of anger breaking through your sadness.

Elijah stiffened. He knew you were right. It didn't make what he did any better, and he felt his self-loathing increase tenfold.

"They killed you; I did what I had to," Elijah defended, but the words felt hollow, a pitiful excuse.

"This isn't the way," you repeated, your voice pleading, "and you don't know who did it, or why. This is all just a guess, a hunch."

He let out another quiet sob, then grabbed his glass of blood and threw it against the wall, the shards falling like crimson rain. He stared at the stain on the wall, watching the liquid trickle down, and he couldn't help but feel a sick sense of satisfaction.

"You have to stop," you whispered, appearing in front of him, your hand cupping his cheek, trying to pull him away from the dark, destructive spiral he was on.

"I can't," he said, his voice breaking, unable to look at you, this ghost haunting him.

"Please," you begged, your hand moving to his neck, gently stroking his skin, trying to comfort him. "I know this pain. It's agony, it's consuming, but I promise you, it will fade."

He pulled you onto his lap, his arms wrapping around you, holding you close, trying to breathe in your scent, to feel your warmth. But he couldn't. You were an echo, a phantom he couldn't grasp.

"You can't bring me back. You know that," you whispered, your voice barely audible, a soft, sad reminder.

He didn't respond, just held you, his fingers digging into your skin, his eyes closed tightly, fighting back tears. He had spent so many nights like this, crying himself to sleep, waking up to nothing, just an empty bed, a cold room, and a hollow, broken heart.

He opened his eyes and let out a gasp as he realized he was clinging to one of the dead bodies on the floor, the vampire's skin gray and decaying, the body long since gone cold.

Elijah released the body and staggered to his feet, his head swimming with despair and self-loathing. His pain and sorrow gave way to anger and frustration, fueling the urge to hurt, to destroy anything and anyone.

"Par ailleurs, une jeune fille a disparu après ne pas être rentrée chez elle. La jeune fille, qui aurait douze ans, a été vue pour la dernière fois dans la zone de l'incendie,"

"In other news, a young girl has gone missing after failing to return home. The girl, who is reported to be twelve years old, was last seen in the area of the fire..."

Elijah snapped, grabbing the TV and throwing it against the wall, the sound of shattering glass echoing through the room. His rage burned bright, a hot, white flame. His heart raced, his breathing ragged, his body shaking with fury.

He wanted to scream, he wanted to kill, but more than anything, he wanted you. He wanted to hold you, to feel your warmth, to hear your voice. He couldn't take it anymore; he was falling apart.

Klaus was never a big croissant fan; he preferred something heartier for breakfast. But here, in France, the flaky pastry seemed to taste infinitely better. Maybe it was the morning sunlight filtering through the café windows or the distant sounds of bustling streets.

He took a sip of his espresso, his eyes scanning the crowded café, absorbing the lively atmosphere. Freya sat across from him, her brow furrowed as she read a spell book, her expression thoughtful.

"Anything in there about wrangling wayward siblings?" Klaus teased, a wry grin playing on his lips.

Freya glanced up, a slight frown creasing her forehead. "That's more your area of expertise."

Klaus let out a huff of laughter. "Fair enough."

Freya’s expression softened, a small smile breaking through. "It will be okay. We'll find him."

Klaus nodded, biting into his croissant, the flakes melting in his mouth. The clatter of dishes and murmurs of conversation surrounded them, along with the distant strains of a busker playing a violin.

"Then what? I’ve never known what to say to him," Klaus said, a hint of sadness in his voice. "He’s always the one with the wise words, not me."

"Honesty is all we have," Freya replied, her tone gentle. "We tell him we miss him, that he’s our brother, and we want him home."

"And that we need to have a funeral, or at least a memorial. Hope is very confused about what happened to her aunt," Klaus added, his gaze drifting to the people walking by the window.

"We'll do it together, as a family," Freya reassured, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. Her touch was gentle, a lifeline in the turmoil. "He needs to know we’re here for him."

"And if he doesn’t want to come back? What then?" Klaus asked, his voice heavy with concern.

"We will cross that bridge when we get to it." Freya pointed at the spell book, her expression brightening. "I’m looking into ways to calm his mind. Perhaps if he can control his rage, he can start to heal."

"I don’t wish to subdue him," Klaus said, frowning. "He deserves the right to his pain, to grieve in his own way."

Freya’s eyes widened, surprised by his response. It wouldn’t be the first time Klaus had tried to force Elijah or the rest of their family into doing things his way. Yet, despite his brashness, she knew Klaus was a man of deep, powerful emotions, capable of empathy.

"What?" Klaus asked, quirking an eyebrow at her.

"You’ve grown," Freya smiled. "It’s good to see."

"Don’t get used to it," Klaus quipped, taking another bite of his croissant and washing it down with a sip of his espresso. "I wish for us to go back to normal, where I’m the problem."

"You’ll never not be a problem, Nik," Freya grinned, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Rude," he scowled.

"But true," she sighed, returning to her book with a smile.

Klaus took another sip of his espresso, his gaze drifting to the TV hanging in the corner. A news broadcast caught his attention, the images of a fire flickering on the screen. He leaned forward, his expression sharpening as he listened intently.

"De nouvelles informations proviennent de l'enquête sur l'incendie du centre-ville de Paris. La police a désormais identifié plus de deux cents corps retrouvés sur les lieux, sans aucune indication pour l'instant du nombre de personnes portées disparues. Il semblerait que les victimes étaient toutes membres de une société privée de conservation d'œuvres d'art, possédant des participations dans plusieurs pays. Alors que les autorités enquêtent toujours sur la cause de l'incendie, il a été suggéré que l'incendie avait été allumé délibérément.”

"There is new information coming in from the investigation into the fire in downtown Paris. Police have now identified more than two hundred bodies recovered from the scene, with no indication yet of how many are still missing. It's believed the victims were all members of a private art curation company, with holdings in several countries. While authorities are still investigating the cause of the blaze, it's being suggested the fire was set deliberately."

Klaus’s stomach dropped, a familiar dread creeping in. The timing was too convenient, and this 'art curation company' sounded like a cover for a secret society. He gestured to the screen, espresso still in hand, splashing a few drops onto the table. "Looks like a place for us to visit, wouldn’t you say?"

Freya looked up, her brow furrowing. "Do you think Elijah has anything to do with it?"

"If this organization is the Strix -sorry, was the Strix- then absolutely," Klaus replied, a grim smile forming on his lips. "Perhaps they gave him the answers he was looking for. Answers we weren’t able to find."

"I can’t imagine it would have been a pleasant reunion," Freya sighed, shaking her head. "I can’t say I blame him."

Klaus’s smile faded. He had tried his best, searching for months through the ashes of Elijah’s rage. He had gone from city to city, country to country, even continent to continent. And now, as he stood on the brink of discovery, he couldn’t help but wonder what condition Elijah would be in when they finally found him.

"Well then, no point in wasting any more time," Klaus said, taking a final sip of his espresso.

Freya nodded, closing her book, quickly downing her coffee before stealing the last bite of Klaus’s croissant, earning a playful glare.

"Oi!" he growled, "I was going to eat that."

"Too slow, brother," she smirked.

Klaus rolled his eyes and stood, tossing a wad of cash on the table without bothering to count. The two of them hurried out, the waiter shaking his head as he picked up the money and Klaus's empty plate.

"Americans," he muttered under his breath.

The site of the fire was a blackened husk, the acrid smell of smoke still heavy in the air. Klaus and Freya walked along the sidewalk, watching the firefighters douse the smoldering remains with water. Distant sirens echoed, a haunting reminder of the chaos that had unfolded.

"Can't believe it's still burning," Klaus mused, a slight frown on his face.

"Must have been quite the inferno," Freya remarked, her expression thoughtful.

"Magic?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No, I don't sense any," Freya said, shaking her head. "Whoever started it didn't use magic."

Klaus glanced at her, a smirk on his lips. "I thought you didn't think Elijah had anything to do with it?"

Freya shrugged. "Maybe he did, maybe he didn't."

Klaus wrinkled his nose, his keen sense of smell picking up the lingering scent of blood beneath all the ash and smoke. Human, vampire, a mix of the two. The fire had raged through the night, burning hot and fast, devouring everything in its path.

"I do sense death, though," Freya murmured, her brow furrowing, her expression darkening. "Lots of it."

"Well, I can't imagine there'll be much left for us to find, considering how thorough my brother is," Klaus muttered, his gaze roving over the ruined buildings, his stomach sinking.

"Why are you so sure it was him?" Freya asked, her eyes narrowing.

"Because I can smell his cologne, no1 passant guardant," Klaus replied, wrinkling his nose.

"Kinda weird that you can smell that, Nik," Freya smirked, giving him a sideways glance.

"I'm a hybrid, love; it's one of my many gifts," Klaus replied, his tone matter-of-fact.

Freya shook her head, a wry grin on her lips, suppressing a giggle as she watched her brother sniff the air, his eyes closed, his expression one of intense concentration.

"Could be someone else with the same taste in cologne; you never know," she teased, nudging him with her elbow.

"It’s very difficult to come by; only a handful of stores carry it," Klaus muttered, ignoring her teasing. "And... she bought it for him just before... you know."

"Ah," Freya's expression softened, her amusement replaced by a mix of sadness and understanding.

Klaus opened his eyes, his gaze sweeping over the destruction once more, the weight of grief settling on his shoulders. He missed you. Your laughter, your wit, the way you could put him in his place. He admired your loyalty, your strength, and how much you loved his brother.

"What are you thinking about?" Freya asked, her voice quiet and cautious.

"Our departed sister-in-law... the cause of all of this," Klaus said, a sad smile on his lips.

"You can't blame her, you know," Freya murmured, her eyes filled with understanding and sympathy. "I miss her too."

"It's hard to be reminded, is all," Klaus replied, a hint of pain in his voice.

Freya gave him a soft, sympathetic smile, her hand gently squeezing his shoulder. "You know... I never learned how they met," she said, trying to steer the conversation toward something less melancholy.

Klaus laughed, shaking his head. "Oh, it's quite a tale, and some parts I'm not privy to. But I can tell you that she was a novice in a convent," he began, a sparkle in his eye.

"A nun?!" Freya exclaimed, her eyebrows shooting up.

"Indeed, although she hadn't taken her vows," Klaus chuckled, amused by the surprised look on her face.

"So, what happened? How did they end up together?" Freya asked, intrigued.

"For all parties involved, it was quite a dramatic affair," Klaus continued, a wistful smile forming on his lips. "But we have more important things to focus on, don't you think?"

Freya sighed, rolling her eyes. "You're no fun."

Klaus let out a huff of laughter and returned to focusing on the scents around him, trying to find a trail, something that might lead him to his brother. He caught the faintest whiff of blood, the scent leading away from the fire, and deeper into the city.

"This way," he said, striding confidently down a street, away from the site of the fire.

Freya hurried to catch up, her long legs making short work of the distance, her boots clattering on the cobblestone streets.

"How can you be so sure?" Freya asked, falling in step beside him, her voice low and cautious.

"I just am," Klaus said, his tone brooking no argument. "That bloody cologne of his is everywhere. No one else has such atrocious taste in fragrances."

"Nik..." Freya cautioned, her tone warning, her gaze flickering to the passersby, making sure no one was eavesdropping. "We don't know what's waiting for us. We can't just charge in."

"I know; that's why you are going in first, my dear sister," Klaus smirked, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Nik," Freya protested, her expression indignant.

"Don't worry, I'll be right behind you," Klaus grinned, giving her a playful nudge as they rounded a corner.

The two of them came to a stop outside an old building, its stone façade crumbling, the windows boarded up. Klaus gestured for Freya to go in, and with a roll of her eyes, she did.

"This place is creepy," she muttered, her boots echoing on the cracked tile floor.

"There's blood, a lot of it," Klaus said, sniffing the air, his eyes closed, his body tensed. "Upstairs."

They made their way up an old spiral staircase, the steps creaking under their feet. They reached a landing; the hallway was dark and narrow.

"Down there," Klaus said, pointing at a closed door at the end of the hall.

Freya nodded and slowly approached the door, her senses alert, her magic tingling under her skin. It was eerily quiet; the silence weighed heavy in the air, pressing down on her.

She stopped at the door, her hand hovering over the handle. She looked back at Klaus, his expression calm and composed, but she could sense his nervousness, his apprehension.

"Ready?" she whispered.

Klaus gave her a curt nod. Freya took a deep breath and turned the handle, the door opening with a creak.

"Elijah?"

The two of them were met with the sight of a massacre: body parts strewn across the room, blood splattered on the walls.

Freya gasped and took a step back, Klaus's hand gripping her shoulder. His eyes roved over the carnage, landing on a lone figure in the middle of the room, standing motionless.

"Elijah," Klaus breathed.

His brother was wearing an old T-shirt and jeans, tattered and bloodstained, covered in dirt. His hair was matted and wild, his eyes haunted, the light dimmed within them.

Klaus and Freya stepped inside, careful not to slip on the blood, the floor sticky and wet. They approached Elijah slowly, his gaze fixed on the severed arm in his hand, his eyes dull and lifeless.

"Brother?" Klaus said, his voice barely above a whisper, his hand reaching out.

"You are not real," Elijah murmured, not taking his eyes off the limb, his expression vacant and distant.

"Elijah, we're here," Freya said gently. "It's time to come home."

"I won't be fooled again," Elijah hissed, his grip tightening on the severed arm.

Klaus took a tentative step forward, one arm stretched behind him to protect Freya, the other held out, placating and non-threatening. "We're not illusions, brother," he said softly, reassuringly.

"Freya," Elijah breathed, his head snapping up, his gaze finding hers.

"Yes, Elijah, it's me," she replied, giving him a gentle smile.

He blinked, his eyes flicking from her face to Klaus's, his brow furrowing. "Have you found a way to bring her back?"

Klaus and Freya exchanged glances, their expressions sad and resigned. It wasn't something Freya wanted to do... to tap into such dark magic. She had been searching for you on the other side but found no trace. She believed you had found peace, and to tear you away from that would be a cursed, evil thing, an affront to the balance between life and death.

"Elijah, there's no way, not without consequence," Klaus said, his tone firm, his eyes filled with regret. "We discussed this."

Elijah dropped the severed arm, his hands clenching into fists. "You're wrong. There is a way."

"Elijah," Freya began, but he cut her off.

"Bring her back," he demanded, his eyes burning with intensity.

"I can't," Freya said, her voice quiet and regretful. "I'm sorry, Elijah. She's gone; she's at rest."

"No, no, no," Elijah growled, his hands coming up to grip his hair, tugging at the roots, his chest heaving, eyes wild.

"Brother, she's in a better place," Klaus tried, his tone firm and reassuring. "I think it's time you come home... You need to let her go."

Elijah shook his head, his breathing ragged, his whole body trembling. "No, no, no," he chanted, his eyes darting around the room, looking for something.

"Elijah," Freya murmured, her brow furrowed, her expression concerned. "Please, come with us. She wouldn't want this for you."

"No, no, no!" he growled, his voice echoing off the blood-spattered walls, his face contorted in a mask of rage.

He grabbed a nearby table and threw it against the wall, the sound of splintering wood reverberating through the air.

"Bloody hell," Klaus growled, grabbing Freya and yanking her backward, shielding her with his body.

Elijah lunged at them, his fangs bared, a murderous look in his eyes. He tackled Klaus, sending them both crashing into the wall, the plaster cracking under the impact.

"Nik!" Freya exclaimed, her magic sparking at her fingertips.

"Elijah, you've gone mad," Klaus grunted, shoving him away, sending him careening across the room. "She's dead."

"Niklaus," Elijah growled, his body vibrating with anger, the haunted, hollow look in his eyes replaced by raw, unhinged rage. "Bring. Her. Back."

"We can't, and you know it," Klaus spat, his eyes flashing yellow, his face shifting into the hybrid’s feral features. "She's at peace, Elijah. We need to let her go."

"I won't, I can't," Elijah raged, his body trembling, his eyes filling with unshed tears that threatened to spill over. His voice broke. "How can you ask me to do that?"

Freya’s heart clenched at the sight of her brother unraveling, his usual restraint shattered. "Come home, please," Freya pleaded, her eyes welling with tears, her voice thick with desperation. "We can help you."

Elijah's chest heaved, his wild eyes shifting from Klaus to Freya, barely recognizing them. "Get out," he growled, the words vibrating through the bloodstained room. His gaze locked on Klaus, his voice turning into a vicious snarl. "GET OUT!"

Klaus stared at him for a moment, his expression conflicted. Freya watched him pull a silver dagger out of his pocket, the familiar glint of the cursed weapon that had subjugated their family time and time again. She hadn't even known he had brought one with him, and her heart clenched at the sight. She didn’t want this for either of them. But given Elijah's state, she knew it was necessary.

"I'm sorry, Elijah," Klaus said, his voice solemn. He rushed forward, his movements a blur, and before Elijah could react, he buried the blade in his brother’s chest. The gasp Elijah let out echoed in the empty, ravaged room. The look on his face was heartbreaking, a mixture of shock and pain. Klaus had to steel himself against the emotion threatening to overtake him, reminding himself it was for the best, for all of them.

"Rest now, brother," Klaus murmured, pulling him into a tight embrace, cradling his body as Elijah slumped, his strength leaving him. His big brother, the north star of the family, now lost to grief.

"I thought you didn't want to subdue him," Freya whispered, her voice shaky, her eyes wide with shock as she pressed a trembling hand against her mouth.

"It was a last resort," Klaus said, his voice thick with emotion, trying and failing to hide the crack in his composure. "I couldn't bear seeing him like this any longer. I didn't think... he would be so... unhinged."

"He's grieving," Freya said softly, her eyes filled with sympathy as she knelt beside them, brushing a hand through Elijah’s matted hair. "He loves her, Nik. Losing her... it's broken him."

"I know," Klaus muttered, his arms tightening around Elijah, holding him close as if he could protect him from the demons he was fighting inside. His voice cracked, and before he could stop it, a tear slipped down his cheek. Quickly, he wiped it away, trying to maintain his strength.

"Time to go home," Klaus said, his voice barely above a whisper, thick with sorrow. "For all of us."

Freya reached out, gently taking Elijah's limp hand in hers, squeezing it tight as they prepared to leave the nightmare behind. She hoped and prayed that Elijah could feel her love through the numbness, that somewhere, deep within the wreckage of his mind, he knew they would never give up on him.

That the battle to bring you back hadn’t been in vain. It had only just begun.

{Part Two}{Part Three}{Part Four}{Part Five}{Part Six}

[yarafic]

Imagine~ You get hurt while arguing with Stefan and Elijah finds you

"Why do you still care about her?" I yelled

He rubbed his temple and gave me a look, and toon a deep breath.

"Y/n, you know what Elena means to me." He says as he takes a step forward.

"Stefan, you told me that you won't see her anymore. That you will let your brother and the rest of the Save Elena squad to do the saving." I retaliate back to him, I was done and beyond annoyed that he will drop anything to save her.

He looked at me and stayed silent, he took a step back and sat down on the couch. I knew he did not want to argue anymore but I was done with him putting Elena first then me. I am his girlfriend, he should put me first. I shook my head and said, "I'm sorry, I can no longer do this."

In that moment his head instantly look back right up, he replied angrily," You are being unbelievable! This is just your jealously talking. I only love you! How many times do I have to tell you? Just because Elena is my ex, who for a fact means nothing to me!"

"If she means nothing to you then why are you still helping her out. If she means nothing to you then why isn't when she is in trouble you drop everything to go and save her. If she means nothing to you then why you always go back to her."

I shook my head and sighed, "I can't do this anymore. This is over. I do not want to be in a relationship where my significant other is still attach to his ex. I do not want to feel like I am the second choice."

I walk toward the door and left, I heard Stefan calling for me to come back inside. I kept on walking.

________

I was now in the woods, tears fell down my face. I am such a fool to believe that he was over her. I sat down and look up at the starry sky, you have a better view of the stars.

Sat there alone with my thoughts, I am finally hearing my thoughts for the first in two years being in this relationship. I am scared to were my thoughts will lead me to.  The wind blows harder, shivers runs down my spine and I knew I'll be staying here for the night.

I slowly closed my eyes, then I heard a snap from my right. Fear rises through me, I was scared to see what will come at me. I slowly got on my feet and began to take steps back. I remembered myself to take deep breaths and to maintain calm. A small adorable bunny hop out of the bush, I began laughing hysterically because of the fear that I felt. A hand place itself on my shoulder, I jumped away from the mysterious silohoute and turn around, to see Elijah Mikaelson standing there.

"Y/n, do by telling me why are you in the woods?" He questions.

You gave a skeptical look and replied back, "Do tell Elijah, why are you back in Mystic Falls? Aren't you suppose to be New Orleans?"

He chuckles softly and shook a his head, "You still have that witty attitude."

You smiled softly and replied, "I got into an argument with Stefan."

He shook his head, took his hand out for me to hold, I careful put my hand on his. He locks his fingers with mine, he began walking forward. I stumble with my own feet, he wraps his arm around my waist.

"You're still clumsy." He retaliates.

I huff in annoyance, he has the nerve to drag me around as if I am a nuisance of a child that wants a piece of candy from the store and the mother sad no.

But here I am allowing him to drag me to that unknown place, I am a fool. Maybe those are the reasons why Stefan chose to hang out with Elena more than he ever did with me.

We come near to A house, wait a minute not a house, a freaking mansion. I took a better look it was the Mikaelson Manor, this was where they use to live until the business that Klaus had in New Orleans, he decided to leave Mystic Falls.

Elijah opens the door to the mansion, gesture for me to sit down and stay there. He came back with nightgown and a robe then told me to take a shower.

______

When I got of the shower I heard voices downstairs, I followed the voices until I reach to the study where they were at. There stood, Elijah and Klaus, they both look at me and smiled.

"Hello, love. How are you?" Klaus greets me and open his arms wide for a hug.

I accept the warm hug that I miss, he whispers into my ear saying that he knows that i I am having trouble in paradise.

He lets go and Elijah hands me papers, I took hold of the  stack of paper then gave ten both looks "what's is this for?"

"You have now where to stay so Klaus and I decided that the Mikaelson Manor will be yours now at the moment." He explains.

"I will pick up your belonging and put them in my old room and for right now we will be eating pizza." Klaus says.

You are very thankful for having them in your life, mostly Elijah. He has been the only one person to help in stressful situations.

𝔸/𝕟: 𝕚 𝕒𝕞 𝕤𝕠𝕣𝕣𝕪 𝕚𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕚𝕤 𝕙𝕠𝕣𝕣𝕚𝕓𝕝𝕖

[gayelderstourney]

OLD MAN YAOI BRACKET ROUND 3

Propaganda:

Ravenpaw/Barley:

kitties who were outcast from previous groups they were a part of and find and live with each other. they are canonical mates even though theyre both dudes. they grow old together, but ravenpaw gets cancer and dies before barley (he lives to be considered old in warrior cats years). however ravenpaw wanted to be in the same kitty afterlife that barley will go to, so they can be together in kitty afterlife. barley is still alive though as far as we know and might be the oldest living cat in the series now. also i just think its funny to call little kitty cats "old man yaoi"

Bob Zanotto/Helmut Fullbear:

THEY LITERALLY MADE MR CRY THE FIRST TIME I PLAYED THE GAME. THEY LOVE EACH OTHER SO MUCH AND THEY FINALLY GET TO BE HAPPY TOGETHER. YOU DONT UNDERSTAND HOW MUCH THEY MEAN TO ME.

they are married in canon and are epic and amazing. they had sad canon events where bob thought helmut was dead for like 30 years or something but helmut WASN'T dead his brain was still alive and they are reunited in the game first by way of stealing an evil dictator's body and then later on they put helmut's brain in a ball as a temporary fix while they go out to find his body which has been frozen in ice. the game forces you to walk through bob's memory of saying his vows at their wedding ceremony and it's seriously some of the most romantic and heartwarming shit i've ever heard, especially "just when i thought i was turning to seed, you made me bloom again" like my god. i love them

they're gay and old as hell!!!! there's a level dedicated to their wedding!!!

Helmut is voiced by Jack Black and is currently a brain in a ball, and Bob knows him so well that the mental image of him in his drunken mind says things Bob KNOWS the real Helmut would never say. Also Helmut is temporarily in the body of a guy voiced by Elijah Wood-

[srslyblvck]

── arm's length,, elijah mikaelson

pairing: elijah mikaelson x fem!reader

synopsis: elijah had always kept you at arm's length. today you finally confronted him.

genre: angst, hurt-comfort

warnings: none

word count: 1.1k

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ THE NIGHT AIR WAS brittle, heavy with the quiet hum of the woods surrounding the Mikaelson estate. You stood on the balcony, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself, trying to ward off the chill creeping into your bones. He was late again. You weren’t sure why you even expected otherwise. Elijah Mikaelson was nothing if not elusive, slipping through the cracks of your life like water through cupped hands.

The sound of footsteps behind you shattered the silence, and you turned to find him standing there. His silhouette was bathed in moonlight, his immaculate suit dark against the pale glow. His face was as unreadable as ever, though his eyes betrayed him, shadowed with guilt and sorrow.

“You’re late,” you said quietly, not bothering to hide the edge in your voice.

“I didn’t mean to—”

“You never do.” You turned back to the night sky, unwilling to face him. “But you always find a reason, don’t you? A reason to leave. A reason to stay away.”

His silence stretched between you like an unspoken truth. Finally, he stepped closer, his voice low and measured. “You know why I keep my distance.”

You let out a hollow laugh, shaking your head. “Oh, I know. You’ve made that very clear. Because I’m human. Because I’m fragile. Because I’ll die, and you won’t.”

“Don’t trivialize this.” His voice was sharp now, a flash of that famous Mikaelson temper breaking through his usual restraint. “Do you think it’s easy for me? Watching you live this fleeting, brilliant life, knowing that I—” He stopped himself, his fists clenching at his sides. “Knowing that I’ll outlive it?”

“Then why not let me love you while I’m here?” you asked, your voice trembling. “Why punish us both for something we can’t change?”

His jaw tightened, and he turned away, his gaze fixed on some distant point in the horizon. “You don’t understand what you’re asking of me.”

“Don’t I?” You stepped toward him, anger simmering beneath your sorrow. “Do you think I don’t understand what it means to love you? To love someone who’s seen the rise and fall of civilizations? Who’s walked this earth for centuries while I have maybe a handful of decades left?”

“Elijah,” you continued, your voice breaking, “you think you’re protecting me by keeping me at arm’s length, but all you’re doing is breaking my heart in slow motion.”

He flinched at your words, his composure cracking for just a moment. “If I give in,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper, “if I let myself love you the way you deserve, it will destroy me when I lose you.”

“And what about me?” you shot back, tears welling in your eyes. “What about the destruction you’re leaving me with now? Every time you pull away, every time you disappear, it’s like losing you piece by piece.”

His face softened, but the pain in his eyes deepened. “You think this is easy for me? To deny myself the only thing I’ve wanted in centuries? To stand here, knowing that if I give in, I’ll condemn myself to a grief that never ends?”

You took a step closer, your voice trembling but firm. “You’re already grieving me, Elijah. You’re mourning me before I’m even gone. And it’s not fair. To either of us.”

The silence that followed was deafening, his eyes locked on yours as if searching for an answer he couldn’t bear to find. When he spoke again, his voice was raw, stripped of its usual careful control. “I’ve lost everyone I’ve ever cared for. Every single one. Do you know what it’s like to live for a thousand years, burdened by the memory of every love you’ve buried? To carry that weight, century after century?”

Your breath hitched, and you reached out, your hand brushing his. “I don’t know that kind of pain,” you admitted. “But I know that I’d rather have a few years of loving you than a lifetime of wondering what it would’ve been like.”

He shook his head, a soft, bitter laugh escaping his lips. “You say that now. But someday, I’ll be standing over your grave, and you’ll be gone. And I’ll still be here.”

Tears spilled down your cheeks, but you held his gaze. “Then I’ll love you from my grave. I’ll love you so fiercely that even death won’t take it from you.”

Elijah’s composure shattered. He took a step closer, his hands trembling at his sides. “Do you think this is easy for me?” he asked, his voice raw. “Do you think I don’t ache every moment I’m away from you? That I don’t dream of a life where I can give you the happiness you deserve?”

“Then why won’t you let yourself have it?” you cried, the tears spilling over now. “Why won’t you let me have you?”

“Because I will lose you!” he shouted, his voice cracking under the weight of his grief. “And I cannot endure that pain again. I have buried too many loves, seen too many faces fade from memory. If I love you, truly love you, it will destroy me when you are gone.”

“And what about me?” you demanded, stepping closer. “You think I don’t know the risks? You think I haven’t thought about the day I’ll be gone and you’ll still be here? But I’m here now, Elijah. I’m alive. And you’re wasting it.”

He turned away, his shoulders trembling as he struggled to regain control. “You deserve a life unburdened by the chaos I bring. A life with someone who can grow old with you.”

“You don’t get to decide that for me,” you said, your voice steady despite the tears streaming down your face. “You don’t get to take away my choice just because you’re scared.”

You moved closer, desperate to reach him, to make him understand. “You can’t stop time, Elijah. You can’t stop the pain. But you can choose to let yourself be happy. Even if it’s just for a little while.”

He looked at you then, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Happiness is a cruel illusion for someone like me.”

“Then let me be your illusion,” you whispered, stepping close enough to feel the heat of him. “Let me be yours, if only for as long as I can.”

For a moment, you thought he might leave again, retreat into the shadows where he felt safest. But then he reached out, his hand cupping your cheek, his touch so gentle it almost broke you. “You are asking me to risk everything,” he murmured, his voice heavy with anguish.

“And I’m giving you everything in return,” you replied.

His lips met yours then, desperate and searching, as though trying to carve this moment into eternity. When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the still night air. “If I lose you,” he said, his voice trembling, “I may never recover.”

“Then don’t lose me,” you whispered. “Not yet.”

And for the first time, Elijah Mikaelson let himself hope.

[klaus-littlestwolf]

A Failed Escape -Elijah M.

Warning: This fic depicts an abusive relationship and Non/Dub Con as well as eluding to threats of suicide, if you aren’t comfortable with or are triggered by these things than please do not read any further. This is a very Yandere!Elijah portrayed from the same Police!Elijah and Doctor!Klaus universe as I’ve written before. I hope I have done well in the request that was sent in, I don’t usually write Elijah like this.Smut ⚠️ Dead Dove:Do Not Eat!

For @moonlight-melanin I sincerely hope it is everything you wanted it to be🩷

Y/n didn’t believe him when he told her how far from any help they were, she had only tried to escape once and it was a massive failure…not to mention traumatic.

The trees scratched at my flesh painfully as I ran through the dense woods, trying to find a road, a house, any kind of civilization to get me away from him.

I had trusted Elijah. He had made me feel safe and protected, and then he locked me away and betrayed my trust, ensuring that I would be his forever. I love Elijah, despite everything he has done I’m still in love with him, and I hate myself for it.

I had been running for hours at this point and still not found anything but trees, exhausting myself and eventually collapsing against a large oak tree. I tried to catch my breath as my muscles aches and my thighs burned, exhaustion taking hold of me quickly and pushing me to rest my eyes for a moment…just a moment.

Waking up was disorienting. My body still hurt but I was laid on something comfortable when suddenly I felt a sting on my leg causing me to flinch and open my eyes.

‘Lay back down Y/n. I’m almost finished with these cuts.’ My blood ran cold as I heard his voice, looking down and seeing Elijah was cleaning the blood from my legs, the thorn bushes doing more damage than I thought. ‘Did you really think you would get away?’ He tossed the first aid kit aside and looked at me, waiting for an answer but all I could do was stutter. ‘I warned you, you wouldn’t find anything out there. I did you a favor telling you that, I didn’t want you to get hurt and look at you now. The closest person is 10 miles away and that’s if you so happened to choose the right direction, which of course you didn’t…is it that terrible here?’ He asked, his eyes cold and hard as he looked down at me.

‘N-no…you’ve been good to me.’ I stated, trying to calm him down.

‘And yet you ran away. You ran through the woods while I wasn’t home like you were desperate to escape me. I saved you, I’ve taken care of you, given you better than that idiot ever did or could and you do this?!’

‘Elijah, I’m sorry. I…I got scared when you-you said I couldn’t leave, I shouldn’t have-‘

‘But You Did! You Left Me!’ He shouted and I tried to pull my legs to my chest, his hand gripping my calf so tightly it felt like the bone would snap. ‘I love you! You’re my everything! My life, and you ran away-‘

‘I love you too, I-‘ all of a sudden his hand was wrapped around my throat and gripping it tight, cutting off my ability to breathe which left me gasping and clawing at his hand.

‘Don’t you lie to me! You left me! You abandoned me! I gave you everything, I risked my job helping you and bringing you here, saved you from ruining your whole life and gave you someone who was here for you! Worshipped the ground you walked on, And You Left Me!’ He was now leaning over me as he held my throat and with the last bit of strength I had I clutched into his shirt and tugged at it pathetically, watching as his eyes widened and he looked down at his hand, releasing me and allowing oxygen to flow into my lungs. I gasped deeply, painfully as I took in air and felt my throat still burn and ache in agony from his strong grip. ‘Oh God, I’m so sorry.’ I was shocked as he said this, staring at him in silence. He had just choked me within an inch of my life and he was apologizing? ‘I’m so sorry Bunny, oh baby!’ He suddenly hugged me around my waist, head on my stomach as he held me firmly and apologized over and over again. Eventually I reached down, running my fingers through his hair to calm him, afraid of him getting worked up again.

‘I’m okay.’ I told him, my voice strained and he looked up at me with soft eyes. ‘I’m sorry too-‘

‘No. No baby, it’s okay. I know I scared you when I told you that you can’t leave I just…I love you so much. I need you all to myself, and you make such bad choices on your own that I need to protect you. I never should have hurt you. Please forgive me?’ He begged, moving to press his lips to mine sweetly and while I should have been repulsed by it, there were butterflies in my tummy like every time Elijah kisses me so sweetly. ‘I can make it up to you, I can make you feel better. I promise.’ He pressed his lips to mine again and his needy attitude was different than ever before. His hands pulled my shirt off before connecting our lips again and trailing his lips down my jaw before kissing my throat tenderly. He had never been this gentle before and I wasn’t sure what to do with it, so startled I couldn’t find it in me to object to anything he was doing. As he unclipped my bra and tossed it to the side he kissed down my collarbone and over my breasts. ‘So perfect, my beautiful girl.’ I gasped as he sucked one of my nipples between his lips and couldn’t hold in my moan at the feeling. He had always been rough and desperate with my breasts but his gentle treatment was doing amazing things to me, all while he pulled my shorts and panties down my legs carefully, not wanting to hurt any of the cuts on my skin. He kissed down my stomach, pushing my legs apart to make room for him before kissing my clit several times, sending jolts of pleasure up my spine as he did.

‘Oh God!’ I screamed as his lips sucked my clit hard, tongue coming out to play with it roughly and I couldn’t keep my hips still as he did, but unlike ever before he didn’t stop them, allowing me to grind against his mouth desperately. ‘Ah! So close! Please?! Eli, please!’ He pulled back suddenly, lifting me up and causing me to squeal, hauling me up and laying back on the pillows as my knees settled next to his head.

‘Take what you need Bunny, sit on my face until you can’t take it anymore.’ His tongue peeked out again, teasing my clit and prompting me to grab ahold of the headboard and grind my pussy down against his mouth. He moaned, sending a vibrating feeling through my clit, the fingers of my right hand finding his hair and holding his head still as I ground my hips down and felt that tight feeling in my belly snap.

‘Oh fuck! Yes! So good! Don’t stop, please?’ He didn’t move, not pulling back for air even once as he shoved his tongue deep into my cunt and fucked me with it. His nose was rubbing against my clit as he did and I couldn’t help riding his mouth roughly as I climbed so high so fast, being thrown into a second orgasm less than a minute after the first. Elijah was seemingly desperate, trying to continue sucking on my clit again when I pulled away, the second orgasm making me too sensitive to continue immediately and I crawled back down to lean against him and see his wet mouth. ‘That was amazing…you’ve never done that before.’

‘I want to make you feel good baby, I only ever want to make you feel good. I hate it when you make me hurt you.’ I was startled by that as he grabbed his shirt and wiped his face clean, that was when he took hold of my hips and pulled me down farther, having removed his pants and pushing himself into me, stretching me deliciously but still uncomfortably as I was so sensitive. ‘I’m gonna make you feel so good baby!’ He pulled back and shoved himself into me again before beginning to move my hips with his hands and making me ride him.

‘Oh God! So Good! Don’t stop Eli! Please don’t stop?!’ I begged as he continued thrusting up into me at a steady pace, picking up speed as my third orgasm teetered just on the edge.

‘Never! Never gonna stop Baby, I’m all yours, forever. You know that right?’ He asked, almost whining as he forced me to look down into his eyes. They were soft and desperate but there was still something dark, deep inside of them that was always there. ‘You know how much I love you, don’t you? More than that boy ever did or could, all he did was hurt you, get you in trouble, the kind of trouble that would have ruined you if I wasn’t there-Fuck-I love you so much Bunny…you-you love me too…don’t you?’ The worry and fear in his eyes was enough to make me want to be sick.

‘Yes! Yes Elijah! Love you so much!’ His cock was pounding into me almost painfully hard at this point and I was so close to the edge I would have signed my soul to Satan if he just let me cum!

‘You won’t leave me again…Promise me! Promise me Bunny, you won’t run away from me again-I can’t live without you Baby, I won’t! I’ll die without you, do you hear me?! I’ll Die!’

‘Never leaving you! Never! I Promise! Please-Please I Can’t-‘

‘Cum for me Bunny, my good girl!’ He slammed his hips into mine painfully hard and as I felt him cum the tightness in my belly snapped and I cried out, collapsing against him as he pulled me into a deep kiss. ‘I love you Baby, I’m so sorry. I’ll never hurt you again, never.’

Later that night I found myself freshly showered and clean, thanks to my police officer boyfriend. Elijah brushed his fingers through my hair, resting my head on his chest as I began drifting off, completely fucked out after he jumped me again before the shower, twice during, and again after. His fingernails against my scalp felt magical as he tried to relax me enough to fall asleep in his arms.

‘No more running from me, okay? If I have to come and search for you again, it won’t be this much fun…’ I shook my head instantly as he said this, knowing that I never want to relive this moment, even if it means I never get away…maybe staying with Elijah isn’t so bad…it could be much worse.

‘No more running away…and no more hurting. Promise?’ Elijah leaned down, kissing my head with a smile on his face.

‘Promise. I love you…my little baby Bunny.’

Elijah Mikaelson Masterlist

[klausysworld]

hello can you do a one-shot for yandere klaus mikaelson where he usually visits y/n in his wolf form

Wolf!Klaus

Pt 2 Pt3

The night Klaus had finally broken his curse, and he was running through the forest killing anything that moved, he came across a little house. Flowers grew outside of it, strawberry and blackberry plants almost fully grown.

There were birds bathing in the little fountain, some eating from the feeders and houses that were high up in the trees. He neared the water source cautiously, watching the house as he lapped at the cool water.

He could see the shape of a womens body, her. His ears perked as he heard her soft voice speaking to somebody on the phone, his head tilted as he listened to her laugh, a sound that sent shivers down his spine and had his ears falling back against his head.

He was glad he had ran ahead of Elijah, his brother would have laughed at the reaction he was having.

But that didn’t stop him from nearing her door, his large paw scraping at the wood as he sat and waited for it to open. To say she looked shocked would be an understatement, she didn’t move an inch as fear pooled in her eyes. He wasn’t able to enter her house, stupid vampire disadvantages.

He breathed her in as his head tilted the other way. Her mouth opened and close a few times as she glanced behind him and then back to his eyes. Her lips were lovely blush colour, he love how they moved as she tried to form words. After another minute or so she was taking small steps back, and yet she left the door open?

She disappeared for a moment before returning with a raw steak on a plate, he blinked at her blankly. He took a step back allowing her to put the plate outside the door and get back inside to safety before moving to eat it. His body lowering to lay before her as she slowly sat down cross legged watching him eagerly. He found her odd yet intriguing.

Halfway through his meal he felt her hand on his head, a low growl bubbled in his throat as he looked back at her. Eyes wide as her hand froze in place over his fur. Reluctantly he put his head down, allowing her to pet him. Her hands ran through his fur from his head down his neck and back, and he absolutely loved it.

Her nails lightly tickled his skin in a way that had him wanting to roll onto his back so she would rub his belly. Of course he did not out of the small amount of pride he still held onto in that moment.

He did however stand up making her panic but was pleasantly surprised when he moved to lay back down, head in her lap making her stroke him once more

“You’re absolutely gorgeous” she whispered looking him over, such soft fur for a wolf, almost as though it had been conditioned. He growled softly in return, almost like a purr to her words.

His tail began to beat at the floor, he immediately growled at his tail and urged it to stop but the way she giggled at him only made it wag harder much to his embarrassment.

As the day grew long she returned to her home and told him to go back to his fun.

But as he wondered back through the woods, and encountered other wild wolves and dangerous animals he began to worry that she would be harmed. He stayed watching her home the entire night. Eventually Elijah caught up with him and nearly had to drag him away from the house

“Niklaus you’re being ridiculous. What on earth are you waiting for?” He questioned annoyed that his brother was prolonging the deal he had made the previous night to reuniting him with their family.

———————————————————————

The next time he saw her was months later. He had almost forgotten about her after everything happened with the werewolf hunting and then his fathers death.

It was only when he found himself all riled up and in need of a run did he find his way to her house again. It was as though she called for his wolf. He ran directly to her home, no hesitation in any step as he raced against himself only to end up back at her door in the middle of the night.

He clawed at her door, whining for her to come see him. He grew frustrated when he listened to her sleep, her breathing still heavy as her body lay in her bed. He had not control over himself as his wolf let out a howl so loud that it shook every tree in Mystic Falls.

His tail immediately went again as he heard her footsteps approaching, the door cracking open as she looked through the gap to him. Her eyes desperately trying to adjust to the darkness and she took in the creature before her. Her brows knitting together in confused before recognition fell over her.

“What’re you doing here?” She whispered opening the door further giving him a better view of her. Her legs on full display for him as she stood in only her underwear and a shirt far too large for her. Was it a mans shirt? He didn’t like that thought, not one bit.

“Go home” she shooed, he sat before her patiently awaiting her to let him inside making her sigh

“Go, go on, back to your family” she ushered.

Instead he took a different response, his ears went flat to his head, his eyes becoming big, pupils dilating as he let out a soft whimper. He watched as her expression softened

“Are you cold?” She asked quietly glancing to the sky, clouds thick and grey making her feel worse for leaving him outside, he was rather sweet. He hadn’t given her a reason to be feared, no he let her pet him and wagged his tail for her. He was harmless.

“Okay…just tonight though” she muttered opening the door making him stand but wait for her to say those extra words

“Come on, come in already it’s freezing”

As soon as she said them he was inside, brushing himself up against her bare legs as she closed the door and began to walk up the stairs. He followed closely behind her, jumping onto her bed to which she was not keen on

“Absolutely not. No dogs on the bed, down” she pointed to the floor and he blinked at her

“Bad dog” she mumbled trying to push him ofd but he was far larger than any dog she may have encountered, more than half the size on her when it stood on all fours. She could only imagine how tall he would be if it stood on its hind legs. He growled in a warning at her, watching as she gave up and sat before him. He could see her anxiety building, the fear he would harm her in sleep.

In an attempt to comfort her thoughts he moved closer to her, pushing her to lay down and laying with his head on her stomach. Hesitantly she pet him again, slowly drifting off into sleep with him in her arms. 

He left in the morning, one last look at her peaceful face as she slept before returning to the chaos that was his life.

———————————————————————

Klaus found that she could be spotted around Mystic Falls far more often than he realised. She was always around at shops or just on walks. Sometimes in the grill with a friend or two. He wondered how she would react if she knew he was the wolf that lay with her at night. How she would act if he were to turn before her, from wolf to man, see her expression as she found a naked man in her bed when she awoke.

He had this thought often. Said thought was often followed by a made up scenario in his head of her kissing him, him showing her just how animalistic he could be. Though at the same time he found he wanted to make slow sweet love to her instead. Show her how gentle he would be for her.

Occasionally he wondered if she would ever let him touch her in his wolf form. He had never thought of anything like it before but imagining her sprawled out on her bed with his long tongue between her legs as her fingers clung to his fur stirred something inside of him.

He had gotten himself off far too many times to the thought of her body, to her face and how she would react to seeing him. She thought his wolf form was gorgeous then his human form would surely stun her.

———————————————————————

He found that he stayed at her house almost every night. It baffled him how she would allow a ‘wild animal’ to stay so close to her but he assumed she must feel safe being wrapped in something so dangerous.

Somebody who is cruel to everyone but her.

He paced her room impatiently as he waited for her to get out of the shower. God how he wanted to be in the room with her.

His claws stuck to the floor as he felt himself becoming frustrated, sexually and emotionally.

When she came back in with only a tiny towel around her he froze in place.

“Oh…what are you doing here? I didn’t let you in” she mumbled holding the towel to her tightly. Yep Klaus had taken to inviting himself in now.

“Go wait outside while i change” she told him nodding to the door but he wouldn’t budge. She didn’t feel comfortable changing infront of him, something about him was more than just an animal.

“Please Wolf, just for a minute” she pleaded and reluctantly he walked off. Waiting until she let him back in. She wore her flared jeans and a low cut top, of how he adored the v-neck tops she would wear.

He jumped up onto her bed, his tail circling her as his snout pressed to her neck, inhaling her cleaned scent. The smell of cherries and vanilla flooding his senses and he purred for her.

She stroked his fur cooing to him unaware of the way his eyes looked down at her cleavage, tongue licking his lips as he tried to subtly near her breasts. He decided to just go for it and shoved his snout between her boobs making her shriek and grab at his head. A laugh bubbled inside her as he hid his face under her top, his fur tickling her as she shoved at him

“Wolf!” She yelled pushing at him in the middle of a laughing fit. His tongue licking at her valley only tickled her further causing her legs to start kicking as she screeched. She managed to get him off her, still laughing as she lay on her back staring up at him while he stood over her with a tilted head.

He knew he shouldn’t have done what he did but thankfully she didn’t seem upset, she was still struggling to breath through her hysterical state. If he were in human form he would be chuckling too.

———————————————————————

It got to the point where he was stealing her things. Taking items from her wardrobe when he left in the mornings, occasionally he’d try sneak one of her teddy bears or other sentimental possessions.

He had a little collection at home for her, his room smelt of her and he loved it.

He often found he would have the panties he stole in his hand while he humped at his pillow which was cover with one of her tops, trying to replicate how he would mount her and make her his. This helped him relieve himself a lot, no longer getting overly riled up and nearly pouncing on her each time he saw her.

He still followed her in human form but it was so much easier to get close to her in his wolf form besides he could protect her much better aswell.

[lia1512]

Elijah Mikaelson x wife reader

Flirtatious Damon Salvatore

---

Mystic Falls had always been a town steeped in secrets, from its deep-rooted vampire history to the enigmatic creatures that roamed its dark woods. But among these mysteries, there was one that had endured for centuries—a love story that transcended time and supernatural boundaries.

Elijah Mikaelson, the noble and stoic Original vampire, had been married to you, his beloved wife, since the days when you were both mere mortals. Your love had endured the test of time, from your human days to your transition into immortality. Through every trial and tribulation, you and Elijah stood by each other's side.

It was a crisp autumn evening in Mystic Falls, and you found yourself at the Mystic Grill, a place that had become a familiar haunt over the years. You sat at a corner booth, nursing a glass of wine and awaiting the arrival of your husband. Despite the passing centuries, he still possessed an uncanny ability to keep you waiting.

As you gazed out the window, lost in thought, you couldn't help but reflect on the nature of your relationship. The eternal bond you shared with Elijah was both a blessing and a curse. While your love had remained constant and unwavering, there were moments when the weight of immortality pressed upon you, reminding you of the sacrifices you had made.

Lost in contemplation, you failed to notice the arrival of a charismatic stranger who had just entered the Mystic Grill. Damon Salvatore, with his dark charm and devil-may-care attitude, had a knack for drawing attention wherever he went. He sauntered up to the bar, casting a glance in your direction.

You, however, remained oblivious to Damon's advances, your thoughts consumed by the past and the future. The memories of your human life, your marriage to Elijah, and the sacrifices you had made to be with him played like a vivid movie reel in your mind.

Just as you were about to order another glass of wine, a smooth voice interrupted your reverie. "Excuse me, miss. You seem a bit lonely over here. Mind if I join you?"

Startled, you turned to see Damon Salvatore standing beside your booth, a playful smirk on his face. His piercing blue eyes sparkled with mischief as he extended an invitation.

You offered a polite smile. "Actually, I'm waiting for someone."

Damon leaned in closer, his charming grin never wavering. "Well, I hate to break it to you, but he seems to be running late. Mind if I keep you company until he arrives?"

Before you could respond, the scent of a familiar cologne reached your senses, and a tall figure approached your table. It was Elijah, impeccably dressed as always, his piercing blue eyes locked onto you. He had arrived, but he didn't intervene immediately.

Damon, still unaware of who your husband was, continued his playful banter. "Looks like your date has finally shown up."

Elijah, ever the picture of restraint, chose not to reveal his identity. He merely nodded politely at Damon, his eyes never leaving yours. You felt a mixture of emotions—relief at seeing your husband and curiosity about how he would handle the situation.

As the evening wore on, you engaged in polite conversation with both Damon and Elijah. Damon's flirting grew bolder by the minute, but your loyalty to your husband remained unshaken. You knew the depths of Elijah's love, and you trusted him implicitly.

However, as the night progressed, Damon's advances became increasingly intrusive. He reached across the table, his fingers brushing against your hand as he made a comment about your beauty. You withdrew your hand instinctively, but Damon's audacity only seemed to grow.

Elijah, who had been observing the exchange with a quiet intensity, finally reached his breaking point. His usually composed demeanor faltered, and his jaw clenched. The centuries of restraint that he had practiced were now challenged by Damon's impudence.

"Damon," Elijah's voice was low and filled with a dangerous edge, "I believe it's time for you to leave."

Damon, who had been enjoying the game of cat and mouse, finally noticed the shift in Elijah's demeanor. He looked from you to your husband, his cocky grin fading slightly. "Who are you to tell me what to do?"

Elijah's blue eyes bore into Damon's with an intensity that sent a shiver down the vampire's spine. "I suggest you depart before I decide to remind you."

It was the underlying threat in Elijah's words that finally convinced Damon to back down. With a grudging nod, he pushed himself away from the table and walked away, casting one last, resentful glance in your direction.

As soon as Damon was out of earshot, Elijah turned his full attention to you. He reached across the table, taking your hand in his with a gentleness that belied his earlier anger. "My love," he said, his voice filled with regret, "I apologize for my tardiness and for allowing this situation to unfold."

You squeezed his hand, your love and understanding evident in your gaze. "Elijah, you need not apologize. I trust you implicitly, and I knew you would handle it in your own way."

A small, grateful smile graced Elijah's lips as he brought your hand to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles. "Thank you for your unwavering trust, my dear."

The incident with Damon Salvatore had served as a reminder of the complexities of your immortal life. While you and Elijah had endured countless challenges together, it was moments like these that reinforced the strength of your bond. In the face of temptation and adversity, your love remained unbreakable, a beacon of hope in the eternal night.

As the night continued, you and Elijah enjoyed a quiet dinner together, the warmth of your love eclipsing any lingering shadows. In Mystic Falls, where darkness often reigned, your love story was a testament to the enduring power of love, and it would continue to shine brightly through the ages, a guiding light in the eternal night.

[peppermintsandbones5]

I got a Frodo Baggins Build-A-Bear a couple Christmases ago and I love him so so much. He’s got a cute little cloak and outfit and hobbit foot shoes, but he also has a sound box in his one arm that plays a few of Frodo’s lines from the movies, which is all great and dandy until you accidentally roll over onto him in the middle of the night when you think you’re alone and suddenly hear the soft whispery voice of Elijah Wood saying “I know what I must do it’s just I’m afraid to do it” coming from somewhere in the void

[jade-kyo]

Non-Red vs Blue fans guess the fake fact: results!

Find the og post here

Alright time to finally review the results! Correct answer is at the bottom of this post for those not interested in all of the results and explanations!

So the most highly voted option at 23% was Elijah Wood which I’m sorry to say is incorrect! Elijah Wood was a voice actor in the series. He played the role of Sigma! What this big name actor is doing in a random web series I have no idea but it’s still one of the wildest things to me.

Now the aspirin overdose comes in with 17.3% and got mentioned a lot in the notes and it is also incorrect. However I will admit to some poor wording on my part because it was actually an allergic reaction not an overdose. That’s a genuine oopsies on my part 😅

Florida sinking into the ocean gets a 10.1% and is also incorrect! The state of Florida does in fact sink into the ocean and it’s implied this was to cover up the disappearance of Agent Florida (who is also the guy who dies from the aspirin)

The gay guy, who’s name is Donut btw, becoming Jesus comes in with 8.3% and is in fact very real. He even walks on water. It was wild and tbh I barely remember it cause it’s from a season I dislike but it was too wild not to include.

With 7.2% I can say for sure that the giant killer robot is indeed dressed up in cute hats! Specifically a sombrero! Also the robots name is Freckles.

CPR for a bullet wound in the head gets 6.7% and is in fact considered effective medical care. Now I will say this later gets retconned and it turns out the guy didn’t actually get shot in the head the bullet just grazed him and his armor locked up making them all think he was dying- hence the choice of word being considered. The characters fully believe it but the CPR did not actually save him cause he wasn’t even hurt to begin with.

The crazy love triangle comes in with 4.7% and is also very canon and is exactly as it’s said. There’s literally just this insane love triangle for like two seasons- honestly the only love triangle plot I ever enjoyed.

With a solid 4% I can say that there is in fact canon mpreg! Hurray? Idk man this one’s exactly as it sounds. Dude got knocked up by an alien.

In last place with 2.5% of votes is the main character dying repeatedly. This is also incorrect. First off this guy is named Church which very funny on its own. Secondly it’s actually one of the first running jokes in the series how much this dude dies. Until it’s not a joke 🫠 also a few people pointed out RvB doesn’t have a main character and while I agree I felt it was simpler just to call Church the main character for this poll since it’s designed for people who haven’t seen RvB and I would argue that the majority of the narrative centers around Church even when he’s not there.

And now for the correct answer, coming in at third place with 16.1% is Caboose is god!

Now I will fully confess to being sneaky with this one. This is actually a joke made within the series but it is not true at all. Caboose is not actually god and the platypus is just that fucked up. I knew nothing I could come up with would be able to match the absurdity of this series so I decided to twist a few words so that way everything seemed equally fucked up.

And that concludes the poll! I will now leave you off with a few honorable mentions that did not make the Final Cut:

They have a Spanish speaking robot. None of them speak Spanish.

He’s a ghost but not actually a ghost but actually a highly advanced computer program

Woman has mega beef with an AI copy of her dead mom

The highly advanced computer program can’t aim for shit

The first 5 seasons were revealed to actually be a prolonged torture session

Dude chases his dead gf through multiple iteration of the same memory

Woman developed a sibling like bond with an AI copy of her extremely neglectful father

[caffeinatedattorney]

Okay so there are two tapes in game where Harvey speaks.

The first tape Harvey appears in is (#10) where Harleen and Harvey appear. She complains to him about Crane's experiments, implying Harvey's partly responsible for his presence there? and that Harvey trusts him. Apparently Crane is there to help Harvey in court and evaluate inmates. He says it's a necessary evil and he tells her to kick rocks.

The second one, tape #13, is interesting. It's found in the ship where you find out Harvey is the rat king near the console. The tape starts with Harvey asking Crane for help. But then...

HARVEY: I just... I-I lost it. You shoulda seen the police photos. This bastard didn't just beat his kid, he starved him! Kept him locked in a closet for six months. Eight years old, fighting with this- with the rats over scraps of food. When the cops finally freed him, his kidneys had failed and his heart was scarred by infection.

Foreshadowing. And guess this confirms for me that Harvey becomes retraumatized by his job and knows it but won't quit.

CRANE: My goodness. Harrowing stuff.

HARVEY: And his dad has the nerve to take the stand and tell the court his kid deserved it? Piece of shit's lucky I only took a couple of swings at him. Besides, I might've just torched my whole career.

CRANE: Oh, I doubt that. You're a hero in the papers. "Two-Fisted DA Decks Deadbeat Dad." The public's behind you on this.

HARVEY: My own dad's to blame for my short fuse. But I can't lose my temper like that again.

CRANE: Your father? I'd like to hear more about him.

So Harvey had been having issues waaay before Batman was in the picture? (Also Harvey sounds so sinister saying "Piece of shit's lucky I only took a couple of swings at him." Love Troy Baker's performance and how Elijah Wood gives this impression that he's just letting Harvey talk to examine him like another one of his tests subjects-- i mean patients.)

And it's BTAA scarecrow and Harvey again, but Bruce isn't there to help

HARVEY: You really think this stuff will help?

CRANE: Early trials are quite promising. Now, hold this, hold it- There you go. And take three deep breaths. Good.

HARVEY: *Inhales loudly*

CRANE: I want you to consider that your recent outbursts may be stress -induced. Building a case agaisnt Carmine Falcone clearly had you burning the candle at both ends.

HARVEY: Well, tell that to the press. All i hear about is how "the batman brought down the Roman Empire." We worked together, y'know. Me, him, Gordon, too. [laughs] Ah, I'm starting to lose my cool again.

Harvey's voice is way way lower. Okay, Harvey is mad about someone else taking credit. Guess that explains his reaction to seeing batman again. More ppl taking advantage of him.

CRANE: No, no-no-no, that's good. Good. We've already touched on how much you've been repressing. Themore you try to contain your shadow, the more that aspect of your psyche starnates and festers. We need to bring it to the light.

HARVEY: [almost a whisper?] Drag if out of the darkness? That's what I've been trying to do with this whole city. Too many trials. Too many appeals. Better let fate judge. Fifty-fifty, like flippin' a coin. Better odds than my old man gave me.

HARVEY: No, it's um, getting worse. The headaches mostly.

CRANE: That's only a function of your conscious mind giving way to your shadow self. As it rises to the surface, your awareness becomes fuzzy in a neurological sense as you grapple with the--

HARVEY: [as a whisper? / hiss?] That's not it. It's never been this bad. Gilda is scared. And I am too.

OKAY so, Gilda must have left at some point because Crane is making him worse. He already believes in the coin. This Crane is so interesting thinking talk therapy is universally effective with dissociation and trauma. He seems to genuinely believe in what he's doing.

CRANE: you fear becoming your father. You fear you'll assume his worst traits as you get older.Please: sit. Have a sip of water. Good, good, good. Listen thins always feel more intense just before the real healing begins. You are making remarkable progress.

HARVEY: We.

CRANE: Hm?

HARVEY: 'We' are making remarkable progress

CRANE: Of course, Mr. Dent. This is good for both of us.

So, safe to say, Crane caused this lmao.

Also, In the tape between Arnold and Harley (#3), Arnold has the same symptoms as Harvey but he doesn't seem to have the puppet yet until she encourages her to do so? so unless i'm missing something, it kinda seems like Crane's treatment is the one causing DID like symptoms.

Okay, I heard the tape between Joe and Thompkins (tape #8) and it seems everyone gets headaches so it's not DID per se. (also Leslie used to have a free clinic in park row and a crisis center for kids. idk if at the same time or the same place, tho)

LESLIE: Any other complaints?

JOE: Just some reactions to Dr. Crane's treatment. Headaches. Can't remember some stuff.

Okay, next part.

HARVEY: Doctor, I wanna stop the treatments.

CRANE: But why?

HARVEY: Why? What the hell happened to your lab rat this morning?

CRANE: it's the unfortunate reality of medical testing that on occasion we have to put an animal through a measure of discomfort in order to-

HARVEY: The shit you got me breathing melted its fur off! Melted its skin.

CRANE: Mr Dent, the individual chemicals in this solution are heavily corrosive but, when properly diluted they are intert and stable.

HARVEY: Inert and stable? I-I-I don't know-

CRANE: Harvey, Harvey. I've been reviewing our recorded sessions and i'm confident you're on the cusp of a major breakthrough. Trust the process. If not for yourself, then do it for Gilda. Doesn't she deserve a healthier, happier husband?

HARVEY: [basically a growl] Crane, if my symptoms don't resolve soon, I'm out.

CRANE: I understood. You're making the right choice. I'll prepare the dose.

This is insane. There's... so much here. Crane manipulates Harvey into using the treatment bc Harvey loves Gilda so much. Harvey was aware of what that thing could do (adding humiliation to having his own face burnt off by some malone?) This must have implanted the idea in his head about being a lab rat and staying one forever bc of his self doubt and letting it get this far.

I wonder if Crane's treatment actually fucked him up the way something like, idk, joker gas would, rather than that darkness coming solely from Harvey? but then again, Harvey beat up a man in court in front of everyone so it wasn't that big of a step.

TLDR; Everything is kinda Crane's fault.

[mrsmikaelson]

My Human

Human Reader X Elijah Mikaelson

Summary: Elijah Mikaelson's Girlfriend Is Caught In The Crossfire With The Original's First Bloodline Vampire

------&&&&&-

Y\N wakes up with chains around her ankles and wrists after being knocked out.

"Where am I ?" she asks herself looking around

It was a fancy penthouse house you could see all of New Orleans from every angle

"Sweet Y/N is finally awake" A male voice appears without revealing his face

“Are you sure we’re doing the right thing?" Another Voice spoke, his voice filled with worry.

"The best way to upset the Original is to steal the thing most precious to him"

"Hey, I'm not an object" Y/N snapped trying to break free

The woman's vision begins to blur together with an unbearable pain when she looks at her foot, a piece of wood is seen embedded in her flesh.

“Oh, isn’t this poor little thing in pain?” The same guy who talked about pissing off an original cooed and lifted Y/N's head with his finger. His face shifted to his vampire one and he snarled, showing his fangs.

“It’s too bad Elijah can’t save you, I can’t wait to see the look on his face when he realised that you’re dead."

" I can't wait to see Elijah cut out your tongue and then your heart... But I think he prefers a more special torture"

" ENOUGH, enough of this nonsense .. it's time for my food"

The man displayed his fangs, then thrust into the young woman's neck, letting the blood flow.

Y/N point Of View

Unbearable pain shout through my neck as his fangs clamped down on my neck, I screamed as the pain shot through my whole body. I vaguely remembered that Elijah said that a vampires bite would hurt bad, of course Elijah has already fed from me, a few times but there has been blood sharing. This is not at all pleasant as it is with my Lijah

I screamed feeling my body giving way when I hear screams and see some bodies of men standing outside being thrown lifeless

"Elijah...."

"Elskan, I'm going to get you out of here." Just seeing my boyfriend's face relieves me.

Seeing him like that, so lethal somehow moved me, a fight was fought between him and the guy who caught me in the first place.

"Lucian, I hope hell is nice this time of year ." Elijah said with his vampire face

"You can't kill me , I'm much better than an Original, my bite can kill you..." Lucian said mockingly

"You're absolutely right, until we find a way to kill you I can't do the honors but nobody said about torture. You know I love torturing anyone who hurts my family"

With that a piece of wood was hurled towards Lucian's abdomen and my rescuer came to pick me up.

"It's safe, let's go home... Niklaus takes care of him"

"He drank from me, I'm too weak" I said without looking at him, fearing that this would increase his thirst.

"Elskan, look at me. No problem, I'll heal you and I'll carry you myself" Elijah bit his own wrist bringing it to my mouth

When the metallic taste hit my tongue I felt relief from the pain, from the fear of it all, my wounds started to heal as he saw the wood in my flesh

"He will suffer, won't he? "

"I sure do hope Freya can find a way to make him ordinary so I can kill him with my own hands" Elijah blocks my view of Nik dragging Lucian's body out of the room.

"Elijah ... Thank you"

" For what?"

" Everything"

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it... I did it with all the love and care I did with Hope Mikaelson

[wholoveseggs]

Dark Star {Part Five}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Part Five

{Elijah Mikaelson x f!Reader} Elijah’s obsession with resurrecting you drives his family deeper into darkness, where alliances fray and unexpected lives are lost as Bonnie Bennett becomes their reluctant pawn. In the 13th century, love turns to betrayal as your forbidden bond with Elijah transforms under the weight of sin, faith, and the cruelty of vengeance.

8.3k words - Warnings: uhmmmm PAIN, death, destruction, full-throttle red door Elijah, so much angst, more hallucinations, Kol and Rebekah still being the ultimate duo, a tragic brotherly bond, compulsion, murder, MY QUEEN BONNIE BENNET && i'm sorry babes.... this is where it begins to HURT ... xoxo

{Part One}{Part Two}{Part Three}{Part Four}{Part Six}

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@origshipfan @cocoabliss

13 century Europe

The walk into the forest this time wasn’t filled with excitement and joy; it was heavy with dread. Each step felt like a descent into darkness, a part of you wondering if you would ever leave these woods again. But the pull toward Elijah was stronger than your fear, dragging you forward against your instincts.

Your mind raced, trying to piece together Sister Claire’s death and what it meant for you. You couldn’t believe Elijah would hurt anyone, but something told you that he was connected, somehow, to the terrible fate she had met.

He was too perfect, too healthy, too beautiful. He had led you to sin so quickly… He had to be a demon. There was no other explanation.

A cold wind swept through the trees, and clouds slid over the moon, plunging the forest into near-total darkness. You quickened your pace, as if Elijah’s presence in the clearing ahead could shield you from the shadows pressing in on every side.

Finally, you reached the clearing. A dying fire cast faint embers over Elijah’s dark form as he sat by it, his head bowed, lost in thought. He looked up as you approached, his eyes catching the firelight, flickering with an unreadable intensity.

He stood and moved toward you without a word, the shadows sliding over his face, and your heart pounded with a sudden surge of fear. You took a step back, tripping over a tree root and collapsing onto the damp ground.

“Stay away from me,” you warned, scrambling back, the words barely audible.

Elijah stopped, his gaze softening as he searched your face. “I would never hurt you,” he murmured.

You shook your head, panic bubbling up inside you. “What did you do to Sister Claire? How did she end up dead, her throat torn out?”

His expression twisted with pain. “Do you think me capable of such a thing? After what we shared, after what we promised each other?"

You took a shaky breath, fighting the urge to run. "You have led me into sin, and now a woman is dead," you whispered, tears welling in your eyes.

"I had no hand in her death," Elijah said, his voice firm, but there was a guilty look in his eye.

"But you know who did," you said, the truth dawning on you.

He hesitated, his gaze dropping. “Yes,” he whispered, sorrow clouding his eyes.

Your heart sank, the betrayal burning inside you. He was a demon, a monster. And you had been blind to it.

“You’ve corrupted me,” you murmured, your voice full of anguish.

“No.” He shook his head slowly, earnestly. “I would never. What we share…it is pure.”

A surge of rage welled up, fanned by guilt and shame. “You’re a liar, all demons do is lie,” you spat, tears streaming down your face.

“I would never lay a hand on you. Not in a thousand lifetimes.” Elijah knelt beside you, his hand reaching out to touch your face, and you flinched away.

"Stay away from me," you whispered, your voice breaking. "Stay away from all of us."

You stumbled to your feet and ran, not daring to look back. You had been a fool, blinded by his beauty, seduced into sin. And now, a sister was dead because of it.

Branches scraped your face, roots snagged your feet, but you didn’t stop. The darkness pressed in, thick and suffocating, and each breath burned as you ran through the forest, terror clawing at your chest.

Just as your strength began to fail, you saw a light ahead and stumbled out of the trees onto the convent grounds. Relief flooded you, but before you could catch your breath, something slammed into you, knocking you off your feet.

You hit the ground hard, the impact stealing the air from your lungs. Dizzy, you looked up to find another figure looming over you. It was Klaus... Elijah’s demon brother... grinning down at you, fangs bared, his eyes glinting with malice.

“Hello, love,” he said, his voice a low growl.

“No!” you gasped, scrambling back, but he grabbed you by the hair, dragging you to your feet with ruthless strength.

Without warning, he bit into your neck, and an explosion of pain shot through you, raw and searing. You screamed, clawing at him, but his grip was unyielding, the world spinning as your blood drained away, leaving you cold and weak.

Darkness swallowed you, the last thing you heard was Elijah’s anguished cry, calling his brother’s name.

You felt nothing. You saw nothing, lost in the void. Your last thought was a broken prayer, a plea for forgiveness. And then, warm hands cradled your head, a voice calling you back.

“Elijah?” you murmured, confusion clouding your mind.

“Yes, I’m here,” he soothed, his voice a balm, a lifeline.

There was the sound of an argument nearby, Elijah’s voice rising, but you couldn’t make out the words. Cool liquid touched your lips, the taste of copper filling your mouth. You drank instinctively, the sweetness flooding your senses, warmth returning to your limbs.

Your eyes fluttered open, finding Elijah’s face above you, his expression etched with worry. You reached for him, and he pulled you close, holding you tight.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice raw with emotion.

The memories flooded back. “Klaus…he killed Sister Claire, didn’t he?”

Elijah nodded, his jaw clenched. “I’m afraid so.”

“But why?” you whispered, still reeling.

“It doesn’t matter,” he murmured, regret shadowing his gaze. “Just know, I would never have let him hurt you.”

You clung to him, your mind spinning. He was a demon, dangerous yet the man you loved. The truth settled over you, cold and heavy.

“You really are a demon…” The words were barely a breath.

He met your gaze, pain flickering in his eyes. “Almost.”

Panic rose, and you tried to pull away, but his arms tightened, holding you close.

“Please, don’t be afraid,” he murmured.

“Let me go,” you whispered, fighting the ache in your chest.

Reluctantly, he released you, and you stumbled back, a final look of heartbreak passing between you before you turned and fled toward the convent, tears streaming down your cheeks.

The weight of his existence pressed down on you, a dark and terrible revelation. You loved him... and in that love, you knew you made a terrible mistake.

13 century Europe

You managed to climb back through the window of your bedroom and collapsed onto the cold stone floor, sobbing. The weight of what had happened pressed down on you, heavy and unrelenting, until you felt as though you couldn’t breathe. You lay there, the floor hard against your cheek, tears staining your skin and blood drying on your lips.

You weren’t sure how long you remained like that, lost in despair, until a soft cough broke the silence. You looked up, startled, to see Sister Margaret standing over you, her face shadowed, her expression unreadable.

Realization dawned as you took in your disheveled state. Your habit torn, stained with dirt, your face wet with tears, and the telltale smear of blood on your mouth. Shame burned through you, and you averted your gaze.

“What happened?” she asked gently, kneeling beside you. Her tone was concerned, but there was an edge to it, a hesitation.

You sat up slowly, wiping at your face. “I…I don’t know,” you managed, voice weak.

Sister Margaret’s brow furrowed as she took in your appearance. “You were gone for hours,” she murmured, her tone laced with worry.

“I know,” you whispered, a fresh wave of tears prickling your eyes. You tried to blink them back, but they threatened to spill over.

Her gaze grew sharper, her concern tinged with suspicion. “Is this…is this a result of Lord Mikaelson’s visit?” Her voice held a faint accusation, a disapproving edge.

The shame intensified, and you closed your eyes, feeling a hot flush crawl up your neck. “Yes,” you admitted, barely above a whisper.

She sighed, disappointment heavy in her voice. “I warned you, sister. I told you not to stray from His light.”

You lowered your head, the weight of her words pressing down on you. You knew she was right, but guilt and regret were tangled too deeply for any comfort.

“Come,” she said, reaching for your hand. “We must tell Mother Mathilde.”

“No! Please,” you gasped, clutching her hand as panic flared within you. “I can’t…not after everything that’s happened.”

Sister Margaret hesitated, her eyes searching your face. For a moment, you saw a flicker of sympathy, but it was quickly replaced by duty. “You must confess your sins, sister. It’s the only way.”

“Please, I can’t…I don’t deserve forgiveness,” you choked, the words escaping in a broken sob. “What I’ve done… It’s beyond forgivable.”

“God is merciful,” she replied softly, settling down beside you, her arm wrapping around your trembling shoulders. Her voice was calm, reassuring, and you found yourself clinging to that sliver of hope. “You need to pray, sister. Ask for forgiveness, and it will come.”

“You don’t understand…” you whispered, the shame bubbling up, choking you. “Sister Claire… It’s my fault.”

Sister Margaret stiffened, her arm dropping from your shoulders as she pulled back, shock and confusion flitting across her face. “What…what did you say?”

“It’s my fault,” you repeated, feeling the weight of the confession bearing down on you, pressing into your chest until it hurt.

Her eyes widened, her voice barely a whisper. “What do you mean?”

You swallowed, forcing the words out, even though they tasted bitter. “The demon... Lord Mikaelson- he…he seduced me.” Your voice cracked, and fresh tears streaked down your cheeks, the shame almost unbearable. "If only I had seen sooner..."

Sister Margaret recoiled, her hand pulling away as if you burned her. She stared at you, horror and disbelief etched in her features. “Oh, sister…what have you done?”

You hung your head, guilt washing over you in waves. “I gave my body to a demon. I…I forsook all my vows.”

A long silence stretched between you, broken only by your quiet, hitching breaths. Finally, Sister Margaret drew herself up, her expression hardening. “We have to tell Mother Mathilde.”

“No!” Panic surged within you, and you reached out, grasping her arm. “Please, she can’t know…not after…”

“She needs to know,” Sister Margaret insisted, her voice growing firmer, colder. “This is a grave transgression, sister. The consequences will be severe.”

You looked at her, desperation in your gaze, seeing the resolve in her eyes and the fear. “Please…I’m begging you. Just…just give me time to figure this out.”

She shook her head, sorrow flickering in her expression as she stood up, stepping back from you as if you were a stranger. “I can’t keep this secret for you.” Her voice wavered, but her resolve was unbreakable.

Your heart dropped, and you felt as though the ground had been ripped from under you. The finality of her words settled over you, heavy as stone.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, looking at you one last time before she turned and disappeared down the corridor, leaving you alone with the crushing weight of your sins.

As soon as the sun peeked over the horizon, bathing the convent in a pale glow, you knew it was time to leave. You had packed a small bag, gathering a few meager possessions. A spare habit, some candles, a few coins, and a small silver cross.

The night had passed in a blur of restless sleep and tears, the shame and guilt a constant, relentless torment. Now, as dawn approached, a cold resolve had settled over you. If you didn't run, you would be condemned... purified to death. Sister Margaret would tell Mother Mathilde, and the truth would come out. You couldn't face that. You had to leave, now, while you still could.

You opened the window, glancing down at the courtyard below, a cold breeze sweeping in. The early morning air was sharp and clear, and you breathed it in, steeling yourself.

Slowly, carefully, you slipped through the window, gripping the ledge. You took a deep breath, saying a silent prayer, and began to climb down the rough stone wall.

The convent was quiet, the only sounds were the wind rustling through the trees and the faint chirping of birds. Your hands were numb, fingers cramped, but you gritted your teeth, forcing yourself to keep going.

Just as your foot found purchase on the ledge below, you heard a shout. Startled, you lost your balance, the stone slipping from under your foot.

You fell, hitting the ground with a sickening thud, a searing pain shooting through your body. A scream rose in your throat, but no sound came. The world spun, a blinding light flashing in your eyes.

Hands grabbed you, shaking you, pulling you to your feet. Dizzy, you looked up, blinking, and saw the blurred face of sister Margaret.

"Are you hurt?" she asked, her voice frantic.

You took a breath, forcing the pain aside, and shook your head. "No...I'm fine."

"What were you doing?" she demanded, anger and fear mixing in her voice.

You glanced at her, then away, unable to meet her eyes. "Leaving," you whispered, knowing that the truth would hurt her.

"I was afraid you would say that," she said, a touch of sadness in her voice. "Come,"

"I can't," you pleaded, desperation rising inside you. "Please, just let me go. This is my choice."

"It's not a choice, sister," she replied firmly, gripping your arm and leading you towards the chapel. "You have sinned, and now, you will face the consequences."

She dragged you through the courtyard, ignoring your protests, and you knew it was useless. You had no choice but to accept your fate.

Mother Mathilde was waiting, her expression hard and unforgiving. She stood, towering over you, a figure of unyielding judgment.

"You have betrayed God and your sisters," she began, her voice cold and full of fury. "For that, you must be punished."

Sister Margaret pushed you down onto your knees, the hard floor bruising. You looked up at Mother Mathilde, tears blurring your vision, the weight of her words a heavy burden.

"Please, I.. I didn't mean to..."

"Silence!" she shouted, cutting you off. "Do you think I'm blind to your indiscretions?"

You lowered your head, a quiet sob escaping. "Please, forgive me..."

"Forgiveness is not given freely," she said, her voice hard. "It must be earned. You will atone for your sins through suffering."

Your head snapped up, and you stared at her, fear and desperation coursing through you.

"Take off your habit and robe, you are not deserving of such garments," she commanded, her eyes blazing.

"Please, I can't," you begged, but Sister Margaret tugged the clothing from you, baring your flesh, exposing your shame.

Mother Mathilde leaned down, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look up at her. "You have brought darkness upon us all, and now, it is time to purge it," she spat, her eyes burning with anger.

Tears streamed down your face, the humiliation and regret a painful reminder of your sins.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, pleading with her, but she turned away, ignoring you. She nodded at sister Margaret, and a heavy metal collar was placed around your neck, the cold bite of iron against your skin.

"Take her outside, to the square," Mother Mathilde instructed, her voice laced with disgust.

You were hauled to your feet, the chain connecting to the collar yanked sharply, forcing you to stumble after sister Margaret. The other nuns followed, their faces shadowed and grim, and you felt the weight of their judgment pressing down on you.

The sun felt too bright, the air too sharp, as you were led into the village center. A crowd was already gathering, word spreading quickly about your punishment. You looked around, desperately searching for a friendly face, but there was no one.

The chain was fastened to a post in the middle of the square, the rough wood rubbing against your skin as sister Margaret secured it tightly.

"Behold!" Mother Mathilde's voice rang out, cutting through the murmur of the crowd. "The wages of sin."

There was a ripple of gasps and murmurs as the people gathered closer, staring at you, their faces twisted with disgust and fear.

"Confess your sins, before I send you to meet the Lord," Mother Mathilde commanded, her voice echoing off the surrounding buildings.

"I...I gave myself to a demon," you stammered, shame washing over you as the words left your lips.

The crowd murmured, a low, angry buzz. You lowered your head, tears stinging your eyes.

"And what did the demon do to you?" Mother Mathilde pressed, her voice filled with malice.

You took a breath, feeling the weight of the chains holding you in place. "He...he seduced me. He used my body for his own pleasure."

"Whore! Harlot!" someone shouted from the crowd, the words a harsh and ugly accusation.

"Speak the name of this demon, this devil among men," Mother Mathilde ordered, her eyes boring into you.

You couldn't bring yourself to speak his name, the shame and guilt too raw and overwhelming. "I can't," you whispered, shaking your head.

"You will," Mother Mathilde insisted, her voice full of rage. "You will name the demon who corrupted you, or I will have your tongue cut out and fed to the pigs."

A wave of nausea rose within you, and you squeezed your eyes shut, willing the world to disappear. But the pressure remained, the iron collar tight around your neck as the crowd was grew louder, their voices raised in anger and fear. You closed your eyes, struggling to breathe as you spoke his name.

"Elijah Mikaelson," you finally whispered, the words barely audible.

The crowd erupted in shocked gasps and cries, a surge of fear and anger rippling through them.

"The Mikaelsons are demons, all of them!" a voice shouted, the words punctuated by a chorus of agreement. "They have brought evil into our midst!"

Mother Mathilde glared at you, her eyes cold and unforgiving. "Then the judgment is clear. For the crime of consorting with demons, and for bringing their curse upon us, you will be cleansed with stone,"

She turned to the crowd, raising her hands in the air. "Let this serve as a lesson to all, that the wages of sin are death!"

The crowd erupted in a frenzy, a storm of angry shouts and jeers. The first blow was from a young boy in the front of the crowd, he picked up a smooth, heavy rock and hurled it, the sharp edge catching your shoulder.

You cried out, stumbling under the force, the pain radiating down your arm. The next blow hit your chest, stealing the air from your lungs. You doubled over, the blows coming faster and faster, each one more brutal than the last.

Your world was reduced to nothing but pain, the rocks slamming into you, the chains holding you in place. You begged, screamed, pleaded, prayed, but the stones kept coming, the blows raining down on you, merciless.

You had abandoned God, and now he was abandoning you.

The rocks kept coming, tearing through your flesh, the blood streaming down your body. Each blow was a cruel and vicious punishment, and the crowd cheered, their voices ringing in your ears.

You fell to the ground, the stones striking you, tearing into you. Your world was a sea of red and pain, a never-ending cycle of suffering. Until the last stone was thrown, by the hand of Mother Mathilde herself.

You felt it strike your temple, the impact sending you spinning into darkness.

As the world slipped away, you had one final thought.

Elijah.

Elijah stood near the entrance of an old church, the crime scene tape fluttering in the wind. It was dark, the moon and stars hidden by the clouds, the air thick with humidity and the smell of death.

His gaze swept over the surrounding area, taking in the tall trees and dense foliage. Everything was eerily quiet, the only sound the rustling of the leaves in the wind.

Klaus was reading the crime scene report out loud, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "... Victim was found hanging upside down from the altar cross, her throat slashed. Blood was used to paint the walls, a message written in Latin."

"A sacrifice," Elijah murmured, his eyes narrowing, his stomach twisting.

"No, just a psycho," Klaus corrected, rolling his eyes. "Apparently the murderer is fond of leaving little notes."

"What did the note say?" Elijah asked, his pulse quickening.

Klaus rattled off the words, frowning as he translated them from Latin. "Lord God Almighty, light and truth, we beseech Thee, that Thou mayest drive away every unclean spirit, every deceitful demon, every foe of our immortal souls. Hallow this place and our hearts with Thy light and strength."

"An exorcism," Elijah muttered, his frown deepening.

Cami cleared her throat, she leaned into Klaus as she glanced at the crime scene report over his shoulder. "That kind of twisted thinking doesn’t come from nowhere. There’s a deep-seated belief system here, maybe even a distorted sense of duty. This is someone who believes they’re acting in service of a higher power."

Elijah clenched his jaw, his eyes burning with anger. "This has nothing to do with my wife,"

"Maybe, maybe not," Cami shrugged, her gaze softening. "But it does point to a connection between her murder and these others. If the killer is targeting women who look like her, we have to consider the possibility."

"No," Elijah hissed, his voice laced with venom. "It doesn't mean anything."

"Brother," Klaus said, his tone careful. "There's a pattern. You can't ignore it,"

"It doesn't matter," Elijah snapped, his voice rising. "We need to find a way to bring her back, that's the priority."

"Guys, down here!" Marcel's voice called out, interrupting the tense moment.

He was crouched on the ground, examining a patch of dirt. A trail of dried blood led towards a stone wall.

Marcel followed it, running his hands over the surface of the wall. There were cracks, and he slipped his fingers inside one, a frown forming on his face.

"There's a door," he murmured, pulling it open, revealing a set of stairs leading down into the darkness.

"A cellar?" Elijah guessed, his brow furrowing.

Marcel nodded, his expression wary, he looked at the others.

"Let's go," Elijah said, a chill running down his spine.

The air smelled musty, stale. It was cool and damp, the shadows clinging to the walls like a blanket.

Elijah stepped inside, the floorboards creaking beneath his weight. He could feel the darkness pressing in, the faint whisper of voices on the wind. Marcel was close behind him, with Klaus protectively hovering beside Cami, keeping her shielded from the unknown.

"This place gives me the creeps," Cami mumbled, shivering.

"Stay close," Klaus muttered, his arm sliding around her shoulders.

They followed the path, the stairs spiraling down into the earth, the air growing more oppressive, the temperature dropping.

After what seemed like an eternity, they reached the bottom. Elijah felt a sense of foreboding, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. He couldn't explain it, but there was a dark energy here, a malevolence that clung to the air.

"I can't see anything," Marcel complained, his tone laced with frustration.

"Hold on," Elijah said, he felt around the walls until he found a torch attached to the stone, pulling it off and striking it against the wall.

A flame sparked to life, illuminating the room.

Elijah raised the torch, his eyes adjusting to the sudden light, his breath catching in his throat.

"What the hell is this?" Marcel whispered, his eyes widening.

The room was littered with long dead candles, moss climbed the walls, and bones were scattered across the floor. Blood was splattered on the walls, dried and brown.

Cami gasped, pressing her face into Klaus' chest, trembling.

Klaus held her close, his jaw clenching, a growl rumbling in his chest.

In the center of the room was a large cross, and upon it was a woman, a dead vampire. Her skin gray and covered in dark veins, her hands and feet nailed to the wood, her eyes wide open, glassy and unseeing.

Elijah's eyes were locked on the corpse, a terrible dread settling in his stomach. He recognized her, a face out of time.

On the floor next to her was another body, a wooden stake driven through her chest. It was clear that it was self inflicted, her hands not far from the weapon.

Your phantom stepped out from behind the cross, and Elijah's eyes widened, his breath hitching.

"Hello, husband," You smiled at him, tilting your head. Dressed in your nun's habit, the very same one you were wearing when he met you, the very same one the vampire corpses were wearing. "Do you remember them? What you made me do to them?"

Elijah shook his head, taking a step back.

"This is all your fault, Eli," you purred, your gaze burning into him.

He swallowed hard, his hands trembling.

"You corrupted me, made me drink their blood, made me crave it," you continued, your smile turning cruel.

"No," he whispered, his voice choked, his heart hammering in his chest.

"Yes," you replied, the word harsh, full of hate.

Klaus frowned, glancing at Elijah, his brow furrowed. He was muttering to himself, his gaze locked on the wall behind the crucified vampire.

"What is it, brother?" Klaus asked, his voice tense.

Elijah didn't respond, he was lost in the nightmare, trapped in the memories.

"Elijah" Klaus called, his concern growing.

Elijah blinked, tearing his gaze away from you, his eyes focusing on his brother.

"C-can you see her?" He asked, his voice strained, a desperate edge to it.

"See who?" Klaus asked, his confusion mounting.

"My wife," he whispered, his throat tight.

"She's not here, brother," Klaus said gently, his eyes full of sadness.

"But-" Elijah started, turning to look at you.

You were gone.

He swallowed hard, blinking rapidly, his eyes stinging.

"There's something written on the wall," Cami pointed out, her voice trembling.

Elijah's gaze shifted to the wall where Cami pointed. In faint, jagged script, words were smeared in dried blood:

'In nomine eius quae nos decepit. In nomine eius quae nos corrupit. Tandem est purgata. Nunc quiescimus, missio sancta completa est. Salutem invenire possimus,'

Elijah felt a weight press down on him, his mind racing to translate the Latin. 

'In the name of her who deceived us. In the name of her who corrupted us. She has finally been cleansed. We rest now, the holy mission is complete. May we find salvation,'

The words struck him like a blow, each syllable carrying the weight of a fanatic’s conviction. His eyes darted between the two bodies sprawled on the cold stone floor. Mother Mathilde and Sister Margaret, both transformed into vampires. They had killed you, after all these centuries, they had gotten their revenge.

Elijah felt the world fall out from under him, his knees buckling, his mind reeling.

"You should have left me alone, Eli," your voice echoed in his mind.

"Elijah?" Cami said softly, placing a hand on his arm, concern etched on her features.

"It was them," he whispered, his eyes stinging with unshed tears, his heart aching. "They were the ones who killed her."

Klaus stiffened, his eyes darkening. "You mean to tell me, these two corpses were responsible for her death?"

Elijah nodded, his jaw clenching. "And now, they're dead too.”

Klaus stiffened, a wave of realization hitting him. "How could that be possible?"

Elijah turned to him, his face ashen, eyes haunted. "You tell me, you were the one drinking every villager dry!"

Elijah looked away, his gaze sweeping over the morbid scene. His heart was pounding in his chest, a thousand thoughts racing through his mind.

He could feel the rage boiling in his veins, a dark, powerful fury threatening to consume him. His fists clenched, and he let out a roar, lashing out at the closest thing to him. His knuckles slammed into the stone wall, shattering bone and splitting the skin. Blood dripped from his hand, but he barely noticed, his anger too intense to be soothed by the pain.

Marcel grabbed Cami, pulling her behind him, shielding her.

Klaus stared at his brother, shock and concern etched on his face.

"Elijah," Cami said, her voice quiet. "This isn't your fault,"

"Isn't it?" Elijah hissed, whirling around to face him. "Don't you get it? They killed her!" He pointed at the two bodies, his voice shaking, his eyes wild with grief and rage. "After all this time... She turned them by mistake... and they must have tracked her down..."

"Elijah," Klaus said softly, stepping closer, his hands raised, palms facing outward.

"No!" Elijah shouted, pushing his brother away, his eyes blazing. "She's dead because of me!"

Klaus stumbled back, his expression stunned.

Elijah took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, his eyes closed. His hand throbbed, blood trickling down his wrist, soaking into his sleeve. He looked down at it, his jaw clenched, his mind reeling. Then he ran, darting up the stairs, his footsteps echoing off the stone.

Klaus started to follow him, but Cami put her hand on his arm, stopping him.

"Let him go," she murmured, her eyes filled with compassion.

Klaus sighed, his shoulders slumping, a grimace of resignation twisting his lips. "This is bad, Camille."

"I know," she replied, her brow furrowing.

"How the bloody hell could they have turned into vampires?" he asked, his confusion mounting.

"Sometimes, snatch, eat, erase, has unintended consequences," Marcel mused, a scowl on his face.

Klaus felt a pang of regret, he had never really reflected about his time in the village. Him and Kol spent most of it drinking their fill of the locals. It was a blur, his memory of it hazy and vague, like a drunken dream. He had no idea that his carelessness could have caused something like this.

Cami wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. He held her close, burying his face in her hair, letting out a frustrated sigh.

Marcel watched them, his expression unreadable. He looked around the room, his gaze landing on the nuns' corpses, his stomach churning.

"Come on, let's get the hell out of here," he said, his voice strained.

"Right," Klaus agreed, taking Cami's hand, following Marcel up the stairs, and out into the night.

Elijah was nowhere to be seen, and Klaus didn't know where to begin looking for him. He had hoped that finding answers could ease his brother's burden, but instead, the truth had only served to deepen the wounds. There was no revenge to be had, and no one to blame but themselves.

13th century Europe

Death, it seemed, was a cold and endless void.

There was nothing... no light, no sound, no sensation. You drifted, suspended in an empty silence, time slipping away without meaning or measure.

But then, something broke through the emptiness. A gentle thumping, rhythmic and insistent, reaching out to you. It called to you, pulling you back.

Your heart.

Painfully, slowly, you felt consciousness returning, a heavy ache settling into your bones. Yet even as you opened your eyes, the darkness did not fade. Silence pressed around you, thick and unyielding, no hint of life.

You lifted a hand, reaching out and felt smooth wood just above your face. Your fingers moved to the sides, finding more planks, enclosing you in every direction. The realization struck, and a choked sob escaped your lips. You were trapped, buried alive, encased in wood and darkness.

A wave of panic gripped you, and you clawed desperately at the wood, splinters digging into your skin as you scratched, feeling the rough surface bite back. The air was stale, thick with the scent of earth. You were suffocating, the weight of the grave pressing in, sealing you away from life.

You were so hungry.

It was a hunger beyond anything you had ever known. It gnawed at your insides, a feverish craving that burned through you, leaving you weak and sick with need. You felt as though you might wither away, disappear into the dark if this hunger was not fed. And in the depths of your mind, one terrible thought rose, unbidden and irresistible.

Blood.

What had become of you? Was this hell? The punishment for your sins? You had failed. Failed God, failed yourself. Your body had been violated, desecrated, and now this was your fate. Condemned, starved, a monster craving blood.

But as the darkness closed in, and the hunger burned like fire, a muffled sound pierced the silence. A faint shuffling, a scraping, and then a loud thud. The wood above you cracked, dirt flooding in, dust filling the air.

Then, hands reached down, breaking through the wood and dirt, and grasping you by the shoulders. They pulled, dragging you out of the grave. The night air rushed in, cool and clean, filling your lungs with life. Above you, stars glittered in the dark sky, so beautiful, so bright it brought tears to your eyes.

A warm blanket wrapped around you, and a voice, soft and familiar, murmured reassurances. Strong arms lifted you, cradling you against a broad chest, carrying you away from the grave’s embrace.

Through the haze, you looked up and met Elijah’s eyes.

His gaze was intense, shadowed with worry, his face softened in relief. He brushed a strand of hair from your face, and as your vision blurred, his words echoed in your mind.

“Don’t be afraid,” he murmured, his voice a balm against the terror that lingered in your heart. “Everything will be alright now, I promise you."

When Bonnie's house came into view, the first thing Rebekah saw was a distinctive figure sitting on the step. She expected he would turn up sooner or later, figuring Stefan had alerted him the moment they left the Grill.

"Is that who I think it is?" Kol asked, his smile widening. "Another bloody Salvatore."

"Well, aren't we popular," Rebekah mused.

They pulled into the driveway and parked, stepping out of the car and walking towards the porch.

"Hey there, Damon," Kol greeted, grinning. "Lovely evening for a visit, isn't it?"

Damon cast a glance at him, but his gaze remained fixed on Rebekah.

"How can I help you?" Damon asked, his voice low, his expression hard.

"Well, for starters, you can leave," Rebekah retorted, crossing her arms. "This is a private matter."

"You can't hurt Bonnie," Damon snapped, his jaw clenching. "Not without going through me."

"Who said anything about hurting her?" Kol quipped, tilting his head.

"Get off of her porch," Damon replied, his voice edged with warning.

Before Damon could blink, Kol's hand shot out, grabbing a fistful of his hair. In a single swift motion, he slammed Damon's face down onto the wooden steps, shoving him hard against the boards. The sound of bone meeting wood echoed in the quiet.

"You certainly have the confidence of a madman," Kol chuckled, pressing his knee into the back of Damon's neck, keeping him pinned.

Damon groaned, trying to pull away, but Kol dragged him back, forcing him to his knees at the base of the stairs.

"Bonnie Bennett?" Rebekah called, her voice cutting through the tension. "I know you're in there, I can hear your heartbeat."

"Don't answer," Damon growled, struggling beneath Kol's hold.

The door creaked open, and Bonnie stood there, just behind the threshold, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the three of them.

"What do you want?"

"We’ve come to ask a favor, love. But your friend here is being rather rude," Kol said, his grip tightening on the back of Damon's neck, amusement flashing in his eyes.

"Let him go," Bonnie ordered, her tone sharp.

"Come outside," Kol demanded, his smile widening.

"Bonnie, don't," Damon hissed through gritted teeth, his muscles tensing against Kol’s hold.

"It's fine, Damon," Bonnie replied, stepping out onto the porch, her gaze wary.

"Good," Kol purred, leaning close, his lips brushing the shell of Damon's ear. "If you move, I'll rip your head off."

Damon snarled, his eyes flashing, but he stayed still, his muscles quivering with barely restrained rage.

"There's a good lad," Kol grinned, releasing his grip, stepping back and away.

"Now," Rebekah said, moving closer to the steps, her eyes locking with Bonnie's. "What do you know about resurrection spells?"

Bonnie let out a humorless laugh, crossing her arms. "No. Absolutely not."

"Come now," Kol drawled, his eyes glittering. "Where's your sense of adventure?"

"Not a chance," Bonnie answered, her jaw clenching. "Even if I could perform a spell that complex, and believe me, I can't, I wouldn't do it."

"Why the hell not?" Rebekah asked, her brow furrowing.

"Look, even if I was inclined to help you, and I'm not," Bonnie shrugged, shaking her head. "A spell like that, the cost is too high. It's not worth it."

"I'm sure we could work something out," Kol smirked, his gaze sweeping over her. He reached out and grabbed Damon by the collar of his jacket, yanking him to his feet. "Maybe a little incentive for you, hmm?"

"Leave him alone," Bonnie warned, her eyes narrowing.

"I would if you'd be reasonable," Kol chuckled, his tone light, a dark edge to his words. "We could do this the easy way, or the hard way. Your choice, darling."

The sound of tires squealing against pavement drew their attention, and Bonnie looked to the street, a sigh escaping her as she realized who it was.

Stefan came bounding up the steps and onto the porch, his gaze dark, his fists clenched at his sides.

"Let him go," he demanded, his eyes locked on Damon.

"Oh, Stef," Kol purred, his smile widening, a wicked gleam in his eye. "I was hoping you'd show up,"

"Stefan," Damon warned, his brow furrowing, his voice low.

"You have two seconds to back the hell off, before I make you," Stefan said, his voice laced with threat.

"What is with the hostility?" Kol scoffed, his brow raising. "I'm just having a little fun,"

Rebekah stepped between them, her arms raised, her gaze flickering from her brother to Stefan. "Everyone relax, this isn't getting us anywhere."

"Tell your brother to let go of my brother," Stefan replied, his voice cold.

"You heard him," Rebekah said, glaring at her sibling, her jaw clenched.

"Fine," Kol muttered, shoving Damon towards his brother. "No need to get testy."

Damon stumbled, but Stefan grabbed him, steadying him, his arm wrapping protectively around his shoulder.

"Let's try this again," Rebekah sighed, looking at Bonnie. "We need your help resurrecting our sister in law, and you're the only person I can think of who can actually do it."

"I can't," Bonnie insisted, her brow furrowing.

"Can't or won't?" Rebekah countered, her eyes narrowing.

"Both," Bonnie snapped, a note of frustration in her voice. "I know better than to mess with forces I can't control."

"Oh please," Kol scoffed, rolling his eyes. "We're immortal, darling. If anyone can control those forces, it's us."

"Look, I'm sorry about your sister in law, really, I am," Bonnie sighed, her shoulders slumping, a pang of sympathy flitting across her features. "But there are always consequences, and they're usually catastrophic."

"That's a chance we're willing to take," Rebekah said, her tone earnest. "You don't have to worry about any fallout, whatever happens, we'll deal with it. All I'm asking is that you consider it."

"I'm sorry," Bonnie shook her head, her brow furrowing. "My answer is no."

"Miss Bennett," a familiar voice called, the sound of footsteps approaching.

All eyes turned to the man walking up the driveway, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, his gaze intent, a hint of a smile on his lips.

"Elijah," Bonnie breathed, her heart skipping a beat, a sense of dread settling in her stomach.

"I will only ask you this once," Elijah said, his voice steady, a glint of steel in his eyes. "Do as we request, and no harm will come to you or your friends."

A tense silence settled over the porch as Elijah’s words hung in the air, his calm tone laced with an unspoken threat. Bonnie took a step back, her heart pounding, but her gaze held steady.

“Elijah,” Stefan said, his voice low and tense, moving protectively in front of Bonnie. “You don’t want to do this.”

Elijah’s gaze shifted to Stefan, his face a mask of cold composure. “I assure you, Stefan, I am quite certain of what I want.”

Damon stepped forward, positioning himself beside his brother, his jaw clenched. “And we’re certain Bonnie’s not doing anything for you or your twisted family reunion.”

A flicker of something darker passed over Elijah’s face, but he remained silent, his eyes narrowing as he regarded the Salvatores.

Rebekah looked between them, an amused smirk playing on her lips, she glanced at her brother.

Kol shrugged, his brow furrowed, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"We don't need the witch's cooperation," Kol said, his gaze turning back to Elijah, his voice filled with amusement. "We could just take her."

"You're not taking anyone," Damon snapped, his voice low, a growl rumbling in his chest.

"Damon," Stefan murmured, putting a hand on his brother's shoulder, his expression grim. "Not a good idea."

"Listen to your brother," Kol smirked, his eyes glittering. "This is none of your business."

"Everything happening in this town is our business," Damon replied, his gaze sharp.

"Is that so?" Kol laughed, a dark edge to his words.

"It is," Damon retorted, his brow furrowing, his hands curling into fists.

"Enough," Elijah said, his voice soft, but authoritative. He turned his gaze back to Bonnie, his eyes filled with a mix of resolve and grief. "Miss Bennett, my wife is dead. And while I do not wish to threaten you, I will not allow anything or anyone to stand in the way of her return."

Bonnie hesitated, her eyes searching his, a chill running down her spine at the look in his eyes. She could feel the weight of his stare, a deep sadness, and a deep rage, burning in the depths of his gaze.

"I can't," she said, her voice barely a whisper.

"I DON'T CARE," Elijah yelled, his voice booming like a thunderclap. "DO IT."

Bonnie jumped at his outburst. She had never feared the Mikaelsons before, not even when they were threatening her, but the look in Elijah's eyes was beyond anything she had ever seen. A deep, aching sorrow and desperation, mingled with a primal rage, all focused on her.

Damon scoffed, stepping up beside Stefan, his defiance barely masking the unease in his eyes. “So that’s it? You’ll sacrifice everyone and everything just to get what you want?”

Elijah’s gaze flicked toward him, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “You know nothing of what I have sacrificed.”

Damon’s lips curled into a smirk, though his fists clenched tightly at his sides. “Yeah, well, I don’t care how ancient or heartbroken you are. Bonnie’s not your pawn, and we’re done playing along.”

Without warning, Elijah grabbed Bonnie's wrists, shackling them and suppressing her magic. Her body went rigid as her mind tried to process what was happening as Damon lunged, his fist aimed straight for Elijah’s face. But Elijah was faster. In a flash, he sidestepped, grabbing Damon’s arm and twisting it behind his back, forcing him down to his knees.

Stefan’s face darkened, and he rushed forward to free his brother, but Elijah’s other hand shot out, gripping Stefan by the throat, holding both brothers captive with terrifying ease.

“Elijah, stop!” Rebekah shouted, alarm replacing the earlier tension in her voice.

Elijah didn’t answer. His expression was cold, detached, a shadow of the man they knew. He brought Stefan's face close to his, his pupils dilating as he stared him down.

"Rip out your brother's heart," he said, his tone calm, almost casual as he compelled Stefan.

Stefan struggled, fighting against the compulsion, a growl rumbling in his chest. Elijah let go of his neck, still holding Damon in place with his other hand. Stefan’s face contorted with the effort to resist Elijah’s command, his hand shaking as it moved involuntarily toward Damon’s chest. Damon’s eyes widened with alarm as he felt his brother’s fingers pressing against his ribs, the pressure building, his breath quickening.

Stefan screamed in anguish, his mind fighting against the compulsion, his arm trembling. But no matter how hard he fought, the magic coursed through him, pushing his arm forward.

"Stop!" Bonnie cried, panic seizing her as she watched Stefan's hand dig deeper into his brother's chest. She moved to rush towards them, but Kol was quicker, pulling her away.

"I wouldn't recommend that, love," Kol whispered, his grip tightening as she tried to fight him off.

“Elijah, please,” Bonnie’s voice shook, her eyes pleading. “This won’t bring her back. It won’t change anything.”

For the briefest of moments, Elijah’s resolve flickered. The pain in Bonnie’s voice seemed to cut through the haze of rage and desperation that clouded his mind, and the realization of what he was doing hit him. But then the memory of your dead body flashed in his mind, and the grief consumed him once again.

"Finish it," Elijah ordered, his voice a low, commanding rumble.

"NO!" Damon shouted, his face contorting with rage, his muscles straining against Elijah's grip.

Stefan's eyes met his brother's, and all he could see was the pain and fear in them, before they dimmed. He knew there was no fighting it, and the moment his fingers wrapped around Damon's beating heart, he accepted his fate.

Damon gasped, a strangled cry escaping him as Stefan began to pull his heart from his chest.

"I'm sorry," Stefan whispered, tears streaming down his face, his eyes locking with Damon's one last time.

Then, with a single, powerful jerk, Stefan ripped his brother's heart from his chest, blood pouring out over his hand. Damon's body fell to the ground, a sickening thud echoing through the night.

Bonnie screamed, the sound piercing the silence, her eyes wide with shock. Kol's grip tightened, holding her still, his other hand covering her mouth to stifle her cries. His expression was a mix of awe and revulsion, but he kept her pressed against him, watching the scene unfold with rapt attention.

Rebekah stood frozen, a wave of horror and guilt washing over her. She could feel the hot tears stinging her eyes, her throat constricting, the blood draining from her face. She looked at her brother, hoping for some sign of mercy, some trace of humanity, but his face was a blank mask, devoid of feeling.

Stefan, still compelled, released Damon’s heart and stared down at his own bloodstained hands in horror as the compulsion faded. He fell to his knees beside Damon’s body, shaking uncontrollably, his expression vacant as the reality of what he had just done settled in.

“Elijah,” Rebekah’s voice was a shaky whisper, her face ashen as she struggled to find the brother she had known. “What have you done?”

Elijah turned to her, his expression unreadable, his eyes empty. “What was necessary.”

“Necessary?” Rebekah’s voice cracked, a tear slipping down her cheek as she took a step toward him. “This… this isn’t you, Elijah. This… this is madness.”

Bonnie wrenched herself free from Kol’s grip, her gaze blazing with fury and despair. "I will never, ever, help you," she snarled, her voice quivering with rage.

Elijah looked down at her, then looked to Stefan, still kneeling beside his brother's corpse, a look of agony and guilt twisting his face.

"Is that your final answer?" Elijah asked, his voice quiet.

"Yes," Bonnie answered, her heart hammering against her ribs, her breathing ragged.

"Very well," Elijah said, he grabbed Stefan by the neck, pulling him to his feet. Then, without hesitation, he plunged his hand into his chest, tearing out his heart.

"No!" Bonnie screamed, her voice breaking as she fell to her knees.

Stefan's body dropped to the floor, lifeless and broken, his eyes wide open, landing with a soft thud next to his brother.

"Elijah," Rebekah's voice trembled, her eyes wide and unseeing, her mind unable to comprehend what was happening.

"Take her," Elijah said, his eyes fixed on the witch. "And do not let her go."

Kol hesitated, his face pale, his eyes fixed on the bodies.

"Now, Kol," Elijah ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"Fine," Kol muttered, his brow furrowing as he approached Bonnie, his grip tightening on her shoulders.

"C'mon, love. Let's get this over with," he said to her softy, dragging her to her feet.

Bonnie didn't resist, her gaze locked on Elijah, the anger and hatred rolling off her in waves.

"We're going to do this, one way or another," Elijah told her, his voice calm, his eyes hard. "The only question is, how many more lives do you want to take before we get started?"

"I hate you," Bonnie said, her voice a harsh whisper.

"Yes, I imagine you do," Elijah answered, his expression unchanging. "But that doesn't matter, not now. What matters is getting my wife back."

Rebekah stood motionless, staring at the two corpses, her mind unable to process the horror that surrounded her. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess, her heart racing, the world around her spinning. The Salvatores were a pain in her side, and she had always thought them fools, but they didn't deserve this. The gravity of what had just happened was too heavy, too surreal to fully comprehend.

Kol and Rebekah watched their once noble, honorable brother, the north star of their family, turn to face them. But that guiding light was now gone, consumed by shadow. What stood before them was no longer their Elijah, but something else entirely.

A dark star, collapsing under its own weight, dragging everything into its relentless abyss.

{Part One}{Part Two}{Part Three}{Part Four}{Part Six}

[hwaightme]

Yeosang who would rather stay alone in his hotel room to call you and hear your voice as he tries to sleep while the boys go live because he is homesick and only your voice can calm him and make him feel close to home 🥲💔

respectfully my heart is genuinely hurting because this reminded me of how yeo slept until quite late on a number of occasions... so imagine this is because he would call late into the night :(( to talk about nothing and everything... your voice being his clarity and his soothing, healing balm. a salvation in the midst of busy schedules and a chaotic day-to-day. you are the calm in the middle of the storm, a safe place.

songs:

everything everywhere always - elijah woods

when i c u - pomme

missing you today - public

we love yeo oh he is so sweet... thank you lovely <3 more thoughts below (506 wc.):

he knows that he is supposed to go live today. he knows that, at the end of the day, this is also his job, and he has to do it regardless of how he is feeling. but as the time ticks on and he feels nowhere closer to home, his mind is almost always elsewhere, and it has gotten to the point where he drifts off in conversation, is entirely absent while sat in the styling chair, and even the astonishingly bright skies appear dull.

thankfully, it does not take much convincing to get himself a late night free. misty-eyed and yearning for his home, yeosang simply has to smile and whisper "i'm tired," to voice the million thoughts spinning around in his head, and have a couple of his fellow members to take over, and an all-group live can be postponed until tomorrow. he feels like he has grown wings. soaring to his hotel room, he speeds through his routines and flops onto the bed to grab at his phone that has been charging on the nightstand.

as soon as he unlocks his phone, yeosang is met with a picture of you - a new one you must have sent a couple of hours ago while he was being interviewed. it was your suggestion to download the little widget that allows you both to send each other messages and photos that complete the homescreen with another piece of home. it was a suggestion that yeosang thanks the universe for.

one message. your response. another. your sweet words. a blissful grin settles on his beautiful features. his hand moves instinctively to the call button, and soon enough, there you are, home. who knew 'hello' could be so magical, and pixels on a screen so dear and so infinitely reassuring and full of love? yeosang waves to you, a little shy due to his sheer delight that he can finally spend some time with you, even though you are miles apart.

you sing praises, applaud him for his phenomenal achievements, cheerfully go over all the kindness you have seen and how much pride you feel, while yeosang melts into the pillows thinking that now, all of this is worth it. with you. he asks about what you have been up to, humming, nodding away as you transition from one topic to the next. when you least expect it, he asks one question, another, or amuses you with hilarious associations, be it to a trend or a song, or an inside joke.

he is happy with where he is, with what he has overcome and where he got you, but he is all the more happy that he can share this with you, and that no matter what, his heart is always home, in your loving arms. he imagines your embrace as he drifts off to you humming one of his favourite ballads. at least for a little bit, the time until he would be a metre, instead of a call, away from you, feels much shorter than before.