#spoilers for TBBW

[morningstargirl666]

CHAPTER UPDATE

Chapter 23 Sneak Peak:

“Where’s Matt?”

Rebekah didn’t glance back at her, instead picking up another plastic cup off the table, throwing it in the trash bag she held in her hand. “He bailed. He got called into work at the last minute.”

Caroline blinked back into motion, her expression twisting with exasperation.

“Are you kidding me? So it’s just us?”

“Yes, and you’re late.” Rebekah snapped, spinning around to face Caroline, mood positively foul. “Clean up committee started at 8 o’clock.”

“But it’s like-” Caroline checked her watch, frowning down at it. “8:02.”

“Exactly.” Rebekah grabbed another handful of empty cups and fallen decorations, shoving them into the trash bag with slightly more force than was necessary. “I managed to turn up on time and I didn’t even get to attend the dance I organised.”

Read on AO3 here.

[morningstargirl666]

Out of context spoilers via meme for chapter 20 of The Big Bad Wolf:

[morningstargirl666]

CHAPTER UPDATE

Chapter 24 Sneak Peak:

When Klaus knocked on the front door of the Gilbert’s house, it was Jeremy that answered.

It never truly did get old, the expression on people’s faces when they recognised him - the shock, the hate, the terror. Jeremy was likewise predictable that way, face morphing from surprise to something more scared, before settling on anger and hatred, masking his true unease. It didn’t matter. Klaus was beginning to recognise the scents that lingered in the air now and poor, poor Jeremy reeked of fear.

Klaus smiled, all friendly lines and innocent eyes.

It didn’t put Jeremy at ease.

“What the hell do you want?” He snapped, and well-

Wasn’t that just rude?

“Now, is that any way to treat a guest?” Klaus said in response, sounding quite offended.

“What you doing here Klaus?” Stefan said, appearing out of nowhere and opening the door wider, pushing Jeremy back and taking his place just on the other side of the threshold.

Klaus glanced at him, but only for a second, disregarding Stefan as a threat almost immediately. His eyes slid back to Jeremy, smile still in place.

“Well for starters, young Jeremy here could show me some manners and invite me inside.”

Stefan rolled his jaw, never tearing his eyes off Klaus as he spoke to Jeremy. “Why don’t you go up to your room.”

Damon approached from behind, sending Jeremy a threatening look.

“Now.”

The poor boy looked between the three of them, glancing between Damon and Stefan first, before turning to Klaus. Clearly, he was smart enough to realise the futility of arguing with two young vampires just so he could be there when a hybrid who could tear his arms off as easily as he tore through paper started a fight. He sighed, giving up, and left the doorway to retreat upstairs, taking the steps two at a time.

Klaus eyed the two brothers now Jeremy was gone, gaze deciding to settle on Stefan.

“Poor lad. Loses one questionable father figure only to be replaced by the likes of the two of you.”

Damon flashed a false smile, perhaps annoyed at the lack of attention directed at him. “Yeah. About that - something happened.”

“Oh, I know all about my mother’s invulnerable creation. That’s why I’m here.” Klaus said to Damon, his friendly voice equally fake. “I’m leaving town. Just here to pick up a few road trip necessities.” He glanced at Stefan, grin widening to show his teeth. “Spare tire, flashlight… doppelgänger. ”

Damon huffed a laugh and offered another falsely sweet smile, grabbing the door to close it. “Can’t help you there!”

The door slammed shut, close enough that it made Klaus step back a little. The grin dropped from his face.

“Well, that went well.” Sam announced from his spot leant against the porch pillar, out of sight from the Salvatores, his sarcasm unwelcome. “Now what?”

[morningstargirl666]

WIP Last  Sentence

@stars-and-darkness and  @purplesigebert tagged me a while ago for this, but I actually didn’t have anything written for my WIP back then except bare bones dialogue. I’m rewarding myself tonight by writing, so here we are. A little something written - it’s a short sentence, so I gave you two. Hope you can forgive me?

Klaus flashed a dimpled smile, eyes bleeding yellow.

“Hello Damon.”

[morningstargirl666]

WIP WEDNESDAY

Rewriting what was the old chapter 22 of TBBW (1920s Dance, Woo Woo!) and the last half, the klaroline half, has become a chapter all on its own. It's really building up to be one of my favourite chapters in the entire fic, and it's partly because I read @kirythestitchwitch's Crash Course which made me crave a cheeseburger so badly I wrote it into this fic. So here's a sneak peak --- don't let the fluff fool you, this chapter has its fair share of angst hehehe

“You know, I’m really surprised you didn’t insist on paying,” Caroline commented, unwrapping the paper around her cheeseburger as she settled back on the bonnet of Klaus’ car.

Klaus sat beside her, unwrapping his own burger as he stretched his legs out in front of him, one leg hanging off the side and resting on the upwards curve of the rim that snaked above the front wheels. Caroline leant back against the glass of the windscreen, relaxing into her spot as the sweet, steaming smell of the burger hit her — two seasoned patties topped with melted slices of creamy, cheesy goodness calling out to her from their package in a perfectly toasted, soft sesame seed bun, stuffed with crisp, curly lettuce and slices of fresh tomato. Up above, the light pollution from Mystic Falls was less intense so far away from the town, parked outside a quiet diner just off the Jackson highway. The stars were beginning to peak out from behind the clouds, the moon a quarter-full and shining down on them from the night sky above. Behind them, the warm glow of the diner spilled out onto the parking lot, employees wiping down tables and serving the odd exhausted truck driver behind the glass, like one gigantic, square-shaped fish bowl. The neon lights of the diner’s name, Wayback Burgers, flashed and flickered in the dark, reflecting red and blue light onto the wet pavement. 

“And why’s that?” Klaus asked, licking his thumb where the various condiments and sauces had leaked out of his large, triple stacked bacon cheeseburger and onto his hand. She’d felt weird ordering him nothing at the drive thru after she’d asked for the cheeseburger and fries, impulsively buying a milkshake to wash it all down with too. So she’d turned to him and asked if he’d wanted anything, and with some hesitancy, he’d ordered one of the meatiest burgers on the menu.

It was weird. The choice prodded something in her brain, seeming familiar. It was only when they got their burgers, Klaus eyeing his with a hunger that looked out of place on a vampire, that she realised why.

Tyler always ordered the meatiest thing on the menu too. Burgers, ribs, steak, chicken wings — it didn’t matter where they bought lunch, if there was an option to eat like a hungry pack of hyenas, he’d take it. Klaus had slightly more decorum, but the look was exactly the same.

“I don’t know. Aren’t you supposed to be ancient?” she shot at him, setting the wrapping in her lap and taking her first bite of her burger. She sighed in bliss the moment the taste hit her tongue — it was truly a magnificent burger. The patties were seasoned to perfection, falling apart in her mouth, cheese melted onto them. The tomatoes and lettuce were fresh but not soggy, and the pickles buried beneath it all had an acid tang that balanced the whole thing out. “Old people are always moaning chivalry is dead,” she finished, holding a hand up to cover her mouth as she spoke around her food.

“And I seemed like the type?” he asked, glancing at her with a raised brow. His voice dropped to a dry drawl. “Why? Because I’m old or because I’m dead?”

She grinned, cheeks full of food. “Both,” she informed him happily, before chewing the last of it and swallowing. Klaus grunted, finally taking a bite out of his burger. Like her, he seemed to melt into the taste, some of the tension in his shoulders easing. She shrugged, eyeing him consideringly before turning her gaze back to her burger, folding down the wrapping. “Most guys get weird when I offer to pay.”

Tyler normally did. Matt had. Since both boys were on opposite sides of the financial spectrum, she kinda figured it wasn’t because of the money.

He looked at her then, searching her face for something. He swallowed his food before he spoke. “Did you want me to pay?”

She shook her head. “No. It was my idea to drag you out here. And you’re giving me a lift home after my car broke down even though I’ve rejected you like, a bajillion times. Least I could do was buy you a burger,” she teased, smile strained.

They hadn’t spoken about it, on the drive here. This thing between them; his jealousy towards Tyler and cruel actions earlier that night; the dozens of hesitant advances, if unwanted on her part. They weren’t friends.

Problem was, Caroline wasn’t sure if they were enemies either. 

Enemies didn’t show each other their personal artwork or unfinished sketches that were hidden away from even their family’s prying eyes. Enemies didn’t sit on a public bench and discuss lost dreams. And they certainly didn’t buy burgers at drive-thrus and eat them together under the starlit sky.

Klaus sighed, but didn’t seem offended. “I don’t think it was quite a bajillion times.”

“Yet,” she corrected cheekily, taking a big bite into her burger.

Instead of the scowl she expected, Klaus smiled fondly, following her lead and taking a bite too.

[morningstargirl666]

WIP WEDNESDAY

I finished the Mikaelson Ball story arc FINALLY

[morningstargirl666]

WIP WEDNESDAY

The next chapter of TBBW is nearly done, so I don't want to share any more excerpts with y'all just yet, not when we're so close to it being finished.

HOWEVER I had my bestie, the wonderful @stars-and-darkness read over what I had so far for the next chapter (there's some emotional development going down, let me tell you all, and I needed some reassurance I was doing it RIGHT), and her reactions are too good not to share, so here's some out-of-context-spoilers for y'all:

[morningstargirl666]

In the spirit of reassuring everyone, yes, I am still working on the next chapter of TBBW, and yes, I do plan on posting it before the month is out even if it kills me-

This is vibes I was manifesting for Kol in this chapter:

[morningstargirl666]

Sneak Peak

Chapter 26 of TBBW is taking a while to write, so while you’re all waiting, here’s a sneaky snippet from the approaching update (if I don’t split it in two lol). 

Do you want to guess who’s back? (I’ll give you a clue - it’s our favourite murder gremlin):

They pulled into the drive of the Mikaelson estate not soon enough, Kol’s incessant chatting doing Caroline’s head in more so than the grating punk rock music he’d picked out on the radio. It didn’t help that he wouldn't shut up about Klaus. After describing in detail how they’d murdered their way through the Russian Court in 1717 like it was a fun day out for the family - a not so pointed threat to them about what would happen if they made the wrong move - he went on to talk about how Klaus had wooed a princess by the name of Isabella sometime in the 19th century. Apparently Isabella had a beautiful taste in jewellery, and both he and Klaus decided to steal her and her fiancé’s entire collection as a surprise birthday present for Rebekah one year. Kol claimed he had gotten a portrait of himself commissioned wearing the crown they’d stolen, and Rebekah had chosen her favourite pieces from the pilfered valuables, though Klaus had kept most of them. In particular, a diamond bracelet interlinked with infinity symbols.

Caroline practically leapt out the car as soon as it stopped, Elena right behind her, no doubt assuming Caroline was just as nauseated by Kol’s casual references to murder. Caroline didn’t correct her.

[morningstargirl666]

WIP WEDNESDAY #3

Buckle up kids, another chapter of TBBW is about to drop. I've got one scene left to write (another 2-4k I predict), and here's the word count we're currently at:

In the meantime, here's another sneak peak, because yet again it's a long chapter and it don't matter if I share another 1k or 2.

Mystic Falls, Virginia.

Present

Caroline woke to her body feeling like it was on fire.

She immediately gagged, the agonising burn reaching into her throat and smothering her lungs, wrapping around them like a vice. She started coughing, harsh, full-body spasming things that felt like she was hacking up her insides, and it was only when she blinked her eyes open and saw the haze in the air, feeling the sting hitting eyes, that she realised she could smell vervain.

Trying to fight the instinct to heave in more air, well aware each breath was poison, Caroline pushed herself into a sitting position, blearily looking around at her surroundings as her eyes welled with tears from the sting. She didn’t recognise where she was. Wooden slats surrounded her on all sides, hay and dirt shifting under her fingertips, like the inside of some kind of pen. And then there was the door, modified with metal bars, welded haphazardly together. She was in some kind of-

Cage.

Her heart stuttered, chest tightening with familiar panic, knowing what usually came next. 

No. No, no, not again-

“Caroline?” A weak, quiet voice called out.

Caroline would recognise that voice anywhere.

She looked up, through the bars of the door, past the space in the middle - were they in some kind of barn? - towards the cell on the other side. Elena was leant against the side in different clothes from last night, skin sickly pale, a hand reaching out to clutch the bars as she tried her hardest to focus on Caroline.

“Elena?!” Caroline gasped, that one word sending her into another harsh fit of coughs. God, the vervain was so strong- “What’s hap-”

“They thought she was a vampire. So they stuck her in here with us.” Came another voice, raspy from the vervain, this time from Caroline’s left.

Her head swam, vision blurring from her stinging eyes, but she managed to squint through the gaps in the slats of wood, making out Rebekah sitting on the other side with her back to against the wall, skin equally pale and shining with sweat, looking somehow bored by their current predicament. 

Caroline swallowed. If they’d caught Rebekah… what hope did they have?

Slowly, Caroline pulled herself into a sitting position, using the bars of the cell door to heave herself up and letting her weight fall back against the side wall with a rattle as the wooden planks shook under her weight. She coughed again from the simple movement, the air too thick from vervain and clean oxygen too scarce. She couldn’t see where it was coming from, but there had to be a vent somewhere.

“Stefan?” She called out in question when she got her voice back.

“Over here.” He croaked back, his voice coming from across from her, to Elena’s left.

Caroline felt her hope sink to her stomach, feeling the urge to cry for a very different reason. “Damon?” She asked quietly.

“Bloody bastard got away and left me to those fools.” Rebekah spat out from her left.

Stefan scoffed from his cell. “Those fools caught you, didn’t they?”

Rebekah’s response could only be described as petulant. “Shut up, Stefan.”

Caroline tried to get to her feet, holding onto the wooden wall and cell door for support, only to give up halfway and drop back to the floor, feeling like she was about to pass out. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to shove down the nausea. “Where are we?”

“Don’t know.” Rebekah answered, voice dry. “Don’t particularly care.”

“There has to be a way out-”

“Already tried. The vervain’s too strong. It makes us too weak.” Rebekah cut across from her, realising a truly aggrieved sigh. “Even I can’t shift it.”

“Caroline’s right. We need to find a way out.” Stefan rasped, a shuffle of movement following suit, making Caroline think he probably was trying to stand too.

“Speak for yourself.” Rebekah snapped back with a little laugh. “I’m quite happy watching Elena die. I wouldn’t give the accommodation any stars, but the entertainment’s top notch.”

Caroline turned to look back at Elena, who was now glaring in Rebekah’s direction. When she saw Caroline looking though, her face crumpled, eyes darting down and refusing to meet Caroline’s gaze.

“Elena?” Caroline called out, a begging note to her voice, hoping desperately that what Rebekah said wasn’t true. Stefan had said she was in transition, right? And if the council thought she was a vampire, that probably meant she had turned, so she couldn’t be dying, not unless they had gotten a hold of werewolf venom-

“I haven’t fed yet.” Elena whispered, and Caroline’s eyes widened.

She was still in transition.

She hadn’t fed.

Just like her Dad.

Did she- No, don’t be stupid, Caroline. Of course Elena didn’t want to be a vampire. Of course she would hesitate. With Alaric dead, maybe they had thought they had time, that they were safe for a second. It wasn’t an easy decision. Even so, it didn’t change that Caroline couldn’t understand why she didn’t feed. Couldn’t understand why her father had rather died, than become the same thing as his only daughter-

“Why?” Caroline gasped out, needing Elena to explain, to make her see. Because she couldn’t. Die or become a vampire - if Caroline had to choose, she would choose vampirism in a heartbeat, because at least then she could live, even if she was no longer alive.

(And even without the threat of death, a small part of Caroline whispered, she’d still choose vampirism over humanity. She liked the person she had become).

“Bonnie said she could fix it.” Elena admitted, her voice sad and defeated, as if she knew how foolishly hopeful she had been.

Caroline wanted to yell at her. To tell her yes, she was foolish. A thousand years and no one has escaped vampirism yet - what could Bonnie do to change that? Why weigh all that hope on their friend? She’d told Elena before that Bonnie always seemed to end up in the crossfire, and this was why, because Elena didn’t recognise when Bonnie was being a self-sacrificing idiot. 

She didn’t say any of this though. Didn’t yell or scream. Caroline didn’t have the energy for it. Not anymore. Elena already knew anyway, was already blaming herself for getting them all in this mess. She didn’t need Caroline repeating her own berating thoughts.

After a while, Elena gathered the courage to speak again. “Caroline, your mom-”

Caroline closed her eyes, fighting the urge to break down. It wouldn’t help. “They arrested her. She can’t help.”

It was silent for a while, none of them knowing what else to say. Even Rebekah didn’t offer a scathing comment.

“We’ll find a way. You’ll be alright, Elena.” Stefan declared eventually, sounding so certain Caroline almost believed him.

Almost.

[morningstargirl666]

WIP WEDNESDAY #5

Back with a sneak peak today for the next chapter of TBBW.... so without further ado, here he is, the Tired DadTM you've all been waiting for:

Splintered wood and shattered glass cracked under Lycaon’s weathered boots as he stepped into the mansion, eyeing the broken-down double doors as he passed them. Bullet holes lined the walls, leaving spider-web cracks in the remains of the windows and completely shattering the rest, the fractured pieces scattered all over the polished wooden floors. The building itself was dark, the lights off, abandoned except for the gentle breeze passing through the halls from the open doors.

Dusk had fallen. He hadn’t been able to contact Sam for hours.

Lycaon pulled his gaze away from the shattered glass and discarded bullets, looking up at the grand staircase that loomed ominously in front of him instead, dread twisting inside his gut at what he would find.

A village, nothing left but ash and bone; a son, nowhere to be found; the panic that he was already too late-

He was always too late, it seemed.

With no other choice, he took a deep breath, braving the grand staircase alone. Each step echoed in the silence of the deserted home, only intensifying the fear spiralling at the bottom of Lycaon’s gut, making his hand shake as he reached for the bannister, holding onto it as he made his way up the stairs. Then he began to explore.

The upstairs of the huge house was in a much less dire state than the foyer. It was clear they’d been planning to leave - most rooms had been packed away, including the bedrooms of his sons, the furniture covered in huge white sheets to protect from dust. Their personal belongings - or at least some of them - seemed to be gone, taken with whatever else that had been moved out of the house. Lycaon found himself entering another one of the bedrooms anyway, not even knowing what he was looking for but desperate to find something. Any kind of clue that could help narrow down the possibilities Lycaon feared to be true.

He bloody hoped Esther wasn’t back from the dead, again, or he might just declare war on witchkind out of spite. He and Mikael had already started a blood feud between the vampires and werewolves - what was one more?

Lycaon ran a hand over the light scruff covering his chin, rolling his jaw as he looked around the room he’d slipped into. Like the other bedrooms, it was decorated ornately with expensive taste, though this one was slightly larger, the walls lined with purple, floral paper and cream paint. The personal belongings had either been packed away or moved out, sheets covering the furniture, the bed and tabletops stripped bare. A huge vanity sat in the corner, not far away from the walk-in-closet, most of the make-up packed away in a hurry, a few pieces left behind. A hairbrush was also there - Lycaon walked over to pick it up, pulling carefully on the golden strands caught in the bristles, leaning down to sniff them. Rebekah, definitely. He recognised her perfume. 

He put the brush down, scanning the room again, but finding nothing more of consequence. The room hadn’t been touched by whatever happened downstairs, and there weren't any notes left behind either. He’d check Kol’s room, and then Klaus’ study, just to be sure Sam hadn’t left anything for him to find, but so far, nothing. Not that he truly expected to find something like that, not when there were wooden bullets strewn all over the floor downstairs. 

Growling in frustration, he moved to leave the room because he didn’t have time for this. He didn’t have time for guessing games. He could be too late. He already was too late. He skirted around the Queen-sized bed when he felt something under his foot, stepping on it with his next stride. Lycaon stopped, rolling back onto his heels and looking down, moving his foot out of the way. It was a small, wooden thing, something that he’d missed, partially rolled under the bed as it was. It had probably been dropped in the rush to pack everything up.

Eyes narrowing, Lycaon crouched down, picking up the familiar wooden figurine; a warrior on horseback, hefting a mighty shield. The legs of the horse were not quite finished, carved with care, the left leg slightly slimmer where he’d accidentally chiselled off a too large piece.

He remembered the way Elijah had laughed when he’d given it to him. The child’s bright smile was ingrained in his memory.

Where were they? What had happened?

Were they…were they hurt?

Lycaon clenched his hand around it, a dangerous rage beginning to simmer under the surface, shaking with the effort to keep it contained. He snarled, standing back up and striding out the room with purpose, skipping the search of the other rooms and heading straight back downstairs instead, shoving the wooden toy inside his pocket. He’d caught the scent of humans down there and since he couldn’t smell them as strongly up here…

He found the kitchen easily; the carnage. There was blood smeared on the floor and marble counters, stark against the pristine white. Sam’s scent was in here, fresh unlike upstairs, maybe several hours old, mixing with the humans and the scent of another hybrid. There had been a struggle of some sorts, one that Lycaon wasn’t certain Sam had won. His scent was faint on the way out of the room, overwhelmed by the odours of the humans…

Lycaon threw a chair, the object smashing into the wall across the room. Then, panic and rage and fear making his heart beat loudly in his ears, he weaved through the halls and found the door to the lower levels, knowing that if he didn’t find any evidence down there that Sam or any of the others had escaped, at least he’d be able to steal something from his son’s armoury. He liked the sound of an axe. He’d really like to swing an axe right now, preferably at someone’s neck.

Eyes faintly glowing in the dark, Lycaon descended the stone steps into the basement levels. They were as large as the house itself, with a wine cellar and cold pantry accessible from the kitchen, even fridges full of blood bags and normal human food. The deeper down you went though, the darker the purpose. There was an old, stone-walled room where Klaus used to keep his siblings' coffins and, of course, the armoury. There was a walk-in freezer, as big as an entire room upstairs. At the lowest level, there were the stone tunnels, leading out of the estate, escape routes in every direction in the event of an emergency. But most importantly, there was a corridor of locked rooms, some bare-fitted cells, others furnished rooms, cages with pretty facades.

He caught wind of Kol’s scent in that corridor, barely an hour or two old. The Original had been down here recently. Lycaon followed its trail without hesitation.

It led to a heavy fitted cell door, all iron and hardwood, strong enough to keep a vampire of considerable age imprisoned. Gaze narrowed, Lycaon tried to open the door. The iron handle rattled, but the door didn’t shift. Not even an inch. Locked.

Well, that just wouldn’t do.

Lycaon eyed the door, noticing that Klaus, for once, hadn’t invested in a new state-of-the-art design. It was an old door, at least a century old, perhaps reused from elsewhere in the original building, and therefore was built practically, but simply. The hinges especially.

Lycaon turned around and went to get that axe.

He came back with it in hand, not sparing a moment before he swung it, the large, sharp bladed weapon easily lifted in his grip, hacking at the wood around the iron hinges of the door. When they were weak enough, the wood of the frame splintering apart, he lowered the axe to his side and kicked the door in with all the strength he had.

It burst from its broken hinges, swinging inwards and slamming back around, clattering to a standstill, half-detached and revealing Elijah slumped at the back of the cell, leaning heavily against the wall.

“Well, this is certainly a surprise.” Lycaon blurted out before he could stop himself. He eyed the Original’s poor state, face sickly white and sweat beading down his brow. He took a step forward, gently setting the axe down against the right wall. “Elijah.”

It seemed to be quite the effort for Elijah to raise his head, but he managed it, staring back at Lycaon with a wary heavy-lidded gaze. “Lycaon.” He croaked.

Lycaon hummed, crouching down to Elijah’s level. “Nasty bite you’ve got there.” He pointed out, tilting his head at the sight of the bite mark, black and yellow, infected with hybrid venom. 

Elijah winced, but didn’t say anything in his defence. There were only so many people it could come from, after all.

Lycaon fought the urge to comment on it, to demand what Elijah had done now. It wasn’t helpful to the situation at hand and the children’s ceaseless squabbling had been irritating Lycaon for centuries - it was a problem for another time. Right now, other things were important, like Sam’s whereabouts and the whereabouts of the others, or the fact Elijah was weak in this state, vulnerable even. He’d need his son’s blood to cure the venom’s effects if their family was currently threatened.

Lycaon remembered that wooden toy, remembered that young child’s laughter, the spark of protectiveness that had flooded his heart then, even before Niklaus, before his blood-son’s birth. It sparked again now upon seeing the severity of that bite, despite the anger and frustration swirling around in his chest, directed at the man in front of him.

“Tell me, Elijah, and think carefully about your choice of words, now-” Lycaon warned, voice dropping dangerously, a ring of yellow in his eyes, “Where are my sons?”

[morningstargirl666]

WIP WEDNESDAY #2

TBBW C30 - Sneak Peak

Finally, I have something written for the next chapter of The Big Bad Wolf at the same time WIP Wednesday comes around in the week! Thank you to @stars-and-darkness for reading over this and helping me get Klaus' characterisation right. And kudos to Joseph Morgan for portraying such a complicated character but like damn is Klaus hard to write. I'm still not sure if I've got it spot on. But eh, this is fanfiction.

Anyways, here's part of the flashback that opens chapter 30. Fun fact: originally, I didn't plan the flashback between Sam and Klaus in chapter 27, in fact that was improvised when I started writing the chapter. However this flashback was always going to be here, as it's quite a significant one.

______________________________________________________________

1992, Minnosota, Superior National Forest

North East Atlantic Pack Settlement

Klaus woke up gasping, his panicked heartbeat ringing in his ears, and as his body jerked, trying to escape the phantom hold on his heart, he reached under his pillow and grasped the handle of his dagger, sweeping it out at an opponent that wasn’t there. Only then did he freeze – back braced against the bed’s headboard, blade pointed out into the dark – realising this was not the place that haunted his dreams, nor was there a familiar figure lurking in the shadows. This was his room in Lycaon’s cabin – there to the right, upon the set of drawers, were his collection of records sat next to the antique player. To the left, beside the window where the moonlight cascaded in through, stood his easel, a half-painted canvas fixed in place and paints scattered across the surfaces nearby. He was alone. He was safe. A few doors down, he could hear Lycaon’s heart beating, breathing softly in his sleep.

Klaus lowered the dagger, his shoulders slumping as he tried to catch his breath, letting the blade fall uselessly from his fingers, down onto the bedspread. The covers were a mess of tangled sheets, the rumpled duvet cast aside in his alarm, and Klaus only waited a second for his heart to calm down before pushing his legs off the bed, landing his feet on the floor. He threw the sheets completely aside, grateful for the prickle of cool, blissful air tickling his sweat-drenched skin. And then he let his head drop into his hands, trying to ignore the way they shook as he scrunched his fingers in his hair hard enough it was nearly painful, wanting the distraction. He’d let his hair grow out a little, even since arriving at Lycaon’s. Nothing as extreme as the haircuts he had sported in earlier centuries, but the strands had grown long enough to curl into their natural state, hanging over his eyes and teasing the nape of his neck. The stubble decorating his cheeks and chin was similarly a few days too old. Enough to look unkempt.

He'd been staying with Lycaon and Sam for about a week now, adamant his stay would only be temporary. But Elijah’s continued efforts to locate him had passed being a simple annoyance and crossed into dangerously hostile territory after his brother started systematically making his way through all their family’s estates, looking for Klaus with vicious efficiency, compelling the staff, even slaughtering the rare few vampires bound by loyalty when they denied him information. Elijah had even taken to, in a rare show of pettiness and rage, burning any art pieces he found, leaving the ashes for Klaus to find (or for his minions to report back about – Klaus was not foolish enough to show his face in person, well aware Elijah was trying to flush him out). Apparently, Elijah had even thrown a particularly beloved art piece Klaus painted in the 17th century into the grand fountain of their Italian Villa in Tuscany, the water running red with blood from the vampire’s head he’d thrown in with it. It was a travesty, was what it was. Four centuries worth of aged art – gone, destroyed, just like that! Not to mention competent sirelings were hard to find and trusted ones even harder. He’d have to train another one now and who had the bloody time for that?

Anger at the situation that had befallen him was good. Better, even, than the fear that was starting to creep into his chest as Elijah started to get too close, familiar with his tricks. And Klaus knew that once his brother found him, it was not a friendly chat that Elijah sought. No, Klaus knew what it felt like to be hunted, had spent centuries running from a monster after his head. This time, he knew he was not the predator in this game of cat and mouse.

Elijah didn’t just want revenge. He was out for blood.

All because Klaus had let his temper get the better of him. He’d never had a great record with it to begin with, true, but even he could admit his words spat out four decades ago had been...not quite thought all the way through.

The last century had not been his best. Ever since the fall of New Orleans, since Marcellus… and then Chicago, daggering Rebekah and saying goodbye to Stefan, Klaus had been unbalanced. Emotionally… charged. Particularly quick to ire (to which the witch coven in Spain’s Alicante province could attest to in bloody detail). His loneliness had started to gnaw at him in a way it hadn’t since his time under The Curse of the Five, spiralling into a miserable despair that was only quenched by violence. So, when his brother had found him in the cobblestoned streets of London’s supernatural underbelly, right in the middle of vampire territory, he’d been relieved to see him – until Elijah greeted him with a fierce fist to the jaw.

“Is it true?” Elijah had demanded, when he’d heaved himself to his feet after their following fight, looking down on his brother’s beaten form with barely controlled fury. “Did you do it?”

At the time, Klaus had thought he knew what had inspired Elijah’s ire. They hadn’t seen each other since that fateful night in New Orleans, where they’d split up, fleeing Mikael’s wrath in different directions hoping it would give them a better chance at escape. It had worked, but Klaus received no word from Elijah, and although that was a good sign – the news of the death of an Original by The Destroyer’s hand would not be easily silenced – he and Rebekah had spent the next decade on edge, not knowing about their brother’s state and unable to contact him, fearing Mikael’s interception. But there had been no Rebekah with him then, when Elijah found him, their sweet sister sleeping soundly in her coffin. Her absence and the implication of it (Klaus daggering Rebekah, again) was a pathetically predictable reason for Elijah’s fury.

The punch to the jaw, and quite possibly his brother’s entire stance, all high and mighty, superior in his morals and honour, had pissed Klaus off no end. So, instead of explaining why he had daggered their sister – foolishness, going back for Stefan, he had already handled it, Stefan knew nothing, he would be safe – he dragged their confrontation out, deliberately being abstruse.

“Do what? I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific, Elijah. I’ve done a lot of things.”

“Is our family gone?” Elijah had spat at him then, losing his patience with such vitriol that Klaus had felt his eyes widen, shocked - and even slightly afraid - as his brother advanced. “Did you discard their bodies in the ocean like useless trinkets?!”

Klaus had been so thrown by the accusation, he had frozen in shock, unable to say a word in his defence. He wouldn’t- He would never do such a thing. To throw his family into the depths of the ocean, to forever be encased in a watery grave for the rest of eternity, caught in between life and death - it was a fate he feared could happen to them, not something he would do to them himself. And to see Elijah looking at him like that, like he believed Klaus was capable of such a crime, could hurt their siblings in such a way-

It was one thing to have the world see you as the villain, the monster in children’s nightmares. It was another to see yourself as such. But it was an entirely different beast to see the same condemnation on the faces you loved, the faces you trusted.

“I didn’t want to believe father. But Rebekah is not here. Kol, Finn - they are not here.” Elijah had continued, taking his stunned silence as confirmation. The mention of Mikael - the implication that Elijah had believed such a thing because Mikael had accused him of it - landed a heavier blow than Elijah ever could. What had Elijah been doing? When had he spoken to Mikael? What else had been said? “But it is true, isn’t it?”  

Klaus should have denied it. Told the truth. Pleaded with Elijah to believe him, if that was what it took.

But he had spent his life fighting other people’s beliefs. Spent his childhood trying to prove Mikael wrong, to make him believe he wasn't a weak disappointment of a boy, but a man grown, a warrior worthy of his father’s name. He’d spent his first few weeks as a vampire trying to convince his mother he wasn’t a monster, and then pleaded with her more still, when she took his wolf away, believing that with it running free, he would always be little more than a beast. An abomination. And then as the decades passed, as the centuries followed, it was not his parents he had to prove wrong, but his siblings. Finn first, who always hated what they were, but was doubly disdainful of Klaus, now knowing they were not brothers by blood. Then Elijah, who watched Klaus sacrifice his honour to protect them all, slaughtering all their enemies brutally and ruthlessly in the name of not greed or ambition, but family and found him lesser for it. Rebekah was no better. She could be as violent as the rest of them, it was true, but there was still a naivety to her. A longing to love and be loved in return. She didn’t see the risks of betrayal and heartbreak, and so when Klaus tried to protect her from it, in a way no one had protected him, she cursed him for it, turning her own back on him when it suited her. And then Kol - who never looked at Klaus with disdain or disgust, still stared at him in fear sometimes. Like he no longer recognised him.

It didn’t matter if his siblings had once stood by him when Mikael cast him out, declaring him their brother, no matter what their father decided. It didn’t matter that they promised to help him break their mother’s curse, accepting him for not just who he was, but what he was. Those words and promises were hollow when their actions no longer reinforced them.

In the end, what was the point in fighting people’s perceptions, when they would never believe you anyway?

So Klaus didn’t fight it.

Didn’t deny it.

Elijah had already decided who he was. What he was capable of.

Maybe he was right. And that? That was the worst thought of all, making him indignant with rage at the injustice of it all.

“Yes.” He had answered, voice steady in challenge, watching as his older brother’s face twisted with pain, relishing in returning an ounce of the hurt Elijah had caused him with such an accusation. 

Elijah’s words were a lie. What was one more, in the grand scheme of things?

A great deal, he came to realise.

When Elijah came at him, the raw pain on his face twisting into hate and blinding rage, Klaus had fought back just as viciously, the two of them barely walking away in one piece that night. And now, decades later, the wound of that two-sided betrayal still stretched as far and as wide as a ravine, haunting him, invading his dreams, twisting his memories into nightmares.

They were getting worse. Fear of Elijah’s pursuit or simply the familiar loneliness encroaching him on all sides made for a poor mental state. Any night, he could be haunted by ghostly echoes of the past. Henrik. The night of his first turn. The binding of his wolf. The Curse of the Five. The burning of New Orleans. The memories all swirled together, twisting into familiar and unfamiliar shapes, macabre and frightening. Sometimes Mikael thrust the white oak stake into his back as the theatre burned around him. Sometimes Kol stabbed him through the heart with a dagger tailored just for him in the middle of The Abattoir. Sometimes Rebekah left him to Mikael’s beatings, no longer coming to his defence, no longer standing between him and Mikael’s sword like she’d throw herself on it to protect him. And then sometimes, like tonight, Elijah would rip his heart out, no longer believing his lies, just like how Klaus had ripped out their mother’s. Justice served; a heart for a heart.

Klaus inhaled shakily, squeezing his eyes shut, hands clenching in his hair hard enough it hurt as he forcefully pushed such thoughts away.

[morningstargirl666]

CHAPTER UPDATE

Chapter 26 Sneak Peak:

“I’m fine.” Elena grumbled, when it became clear Stefan wasn’t going to stop fussing over her anytime soon. “More than fine. I’m being over-coddled, more than anything.” She said the last part with a pointed glance in Caroline’s direction. Even if her smile was teasing, Caroline couldn’t help but feel slightly offended.

“You are on house arrest.” She said, a tad defensive, as she jabbed a finger towards Elena. “You’re supposed to be coddled.”

“I don’t know, Care. Wouldn’t it be smarter if we just got her the hell outta town?” Matt suggested.

“And do what?” Elena jumped in to argue before Caroline could. “Go on the run for the rest of my life? No thank you.”

“No one’s running anywhere yet. We’ll work it out.” Stefan reassured them all. Caroline saw Jeremy and Matt exchange a glance, but shook it off, already turning around to go finish drying the dishes Tyler had left. Stefan stayed with Elena a while, talking quietly with her, before he stood up, following Caroline into the kitchen.

He saddled up to her side, lips threatening to twitch into a grin. “Over-coddled, huh?”

Caroline sighed. “I may have panicked a little.”

“A little?” Tyler scoffed, walking over to the fridge to grab a beer. “Care, you drank a bottle of vodka, made tea and then proceeded to clean the entire kitchen.”

“I do that …when I’m stressed, sometimes.”

The four boys exchanged matching amused looks, and Caroline huffed, glaring at all of them. “Shut up.”

They all grinned and Caroline spun around, stomping back to the kitchen just to get away  from them. She’d barely made it to the island before the doorbell rang, a firm knock at the door following quickly after.

“Someone should probably get that.” Tyler pointed out, freezing at the sound.

Jeremy wasn’t nearly as concerned. “It’s probably just Mrs Danvers from down the street. She keeps losing her cat. Says it keeps wandering off.”

Matt made a face. “Isn’t that what cats do? Wander?”

“According to her, apparently not.” Jeremy muttered under his breath.

“I’ll get it!” Elena decided for them all, throwing the blanket off herself.

“You’re supposed to be resting Elena!” Caroline screeched, unimpressed.

She stood to her feet with an angry huff. “I’m not an invalid. I’m done with the couch.”

“But-” Caroline tried to protest, moving to stop her.

Another impatient knock echoed throughout the house, and Elena rushed away to answer it, cutting off Caroline’s protests. “Coming! Just wait a moment!”

Caroline huffed, face falling as Elena disappeared down the hall. Stefan watched her, opening his mouth to no doubt say something that would call out her coddling instincts yet again, but Caroline grabbed a tea towel and threw it at him. “Shut it, Salvatore!”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“But you were about to!”

Stefan couldn’t argue against that. Tyler and Matt snickering behind him weren’t much help.

“Stefan.” Elena called out, but something about her voice, the shaky tone of it, made Caroline still. The others heard it too, the playful mood all but forgotten, replaced with fear and caution.

She exchanged a glance with Stefan, the two of them already moving towards the hallway. Behind her, she heard Jeremy finally stand up, Matt at his side, and even Tyler straightened where he stood.

When she and Stefan rounded the corner, Caroline saw Elena first, and the front door she was holding open. The person standing just outside the threshold caught her attention next, her recognition quickly morphing into horror.

“Kol.” Stefan breathed beside her.

Caroline heard Tyler mutter a curse from far behind her, and she didn’t need to turn around to know Matt’s frame had gone completely rigid, no doubt remembering how Kol had crushed his hand at Ball.

“I’d say it’s nice to see you all again-” Kol began, lip curling into a snarl as he eyed them all, particularly Stefan, “-but it really isn’t.”

Read Chapter 26 on AO3 here

[morningstargirl666]

CHAPTER UPDATE

Chapter 29: Sneak Peak

Caroline didn’t know how long she stayed where she was.

After she’d fled from the cellar, fleeing deeper into the woods, she’d kept running, not caring where she was going, which direction she was heading. Her tears had slid down her cheeks and dropped to the woodland floor as she flashed through the trees, the trunks and branches blurring around her. She’d stopped when her heartbreak grew too great, too painful, making her stumble, too exhausted to run further. Her back had hit a tree trunk and she’d slid to the ground, her head falling into her knees as her sobs wracked her body in full force, too violent to be contained any longer.

Eventually, her sobs had subsided into wet sniffles, until she had no tears left to give. Until she cried herself into exhaustion, falling into a restless sleep curled up at the base of a tree, arms wrapped around her middle so tight it hurt, distracting her from the blinding pain inside her chest.

It wasn’t just Tyler. It was all of it - Alaric’s torture, the echoes of Damon’s abuse, every step that had led to Klaus’ death, the stupid decisions and this cursed town, the Council’s witch hunt, her mom’s arrest, T-

Tyler dying.

Her friends dying.

Her dying.

Even if, if Tyler was right and Klaus had lied, that she wasn’t going to die like Sage had… what would be the point? She couldn’t stay in Mystic Falls anymore. Her mom couldn’t protect her, even though she had tried so hard. Tyler was dead. Bonnie and Elena were safe, they were human, so was Matt - the Council wasn’t after them, they could stay. Which meant they had no reason to leave with her. Stefan would have to run, Damon too, but surely Stefan wouldn’t want to stay with her? He was so much older than her, he probably  had his own way of doing things, and then there was his diet, and god, where was she going to get the blood bags from? She’d never stolen from the hospital herself before. She didn’t know how to do this.

She didn’t want to be alone.

Read on AO3 here.

[morningstargirl666]

CHAPTER UPDATE

Chapter 21 Sneak Peak:

Caroline shuffled closer, placing a hand on Tyler’s cheek and turning his face towards her. “But it doesn’t matter how many times I dance with Klaus because I-” 

Come on, Forbes. They were only three little words. And you told Elena you’d try, didn’t you? 

Just three little words.

Caroline swallowed.

“Because I love you.”

And then she kissed him.

He kissed her back, just as tenderly, a hand rising to rest on her waist, and for a beautiful moment, Caroline finally believed they were on the same page. That she had finally done something right. But when they broke away, Caroline smiled, waiting for him to say those three little words back.

He didn’t.

“There’s probably some punch left. And I never did learn the charleston.” He said with a smile of his own, jerking his head towards the punch tables on the other side of the gym hall.

He didn’t say he loved her, like the night of her birthday. In fact, she realised he hadn’t said those words since then, not even when they’d reunited in the woods. He’d just said he missed her.

Caroline’s face fell.

“Yeah.” She said, a horrid ball in her throat. She forced on her best Miss Mystic smile before he could notice. “That sounds great.”

Tyler stood, already turning to make his way down. A pit in her stomach, Caroline let the facade crack, only for a moment, while she inhaled a shaky breath. 

They were only three little words. It didn’t matter, not really.

Or that’s what she told herself.

Read on AO3 here.

[morningstargirl666]

WIP WEDNESDAY THURSDAY

I swear, I intended to get something done for wednesday but it never really works that way (don't come at me y'all). Also, since I'm rewriting tbbw at the mo, it's kinda the only wip I'm working on so most of the edits are focused around the siblings - not the klaroline.

However! Made some changes to one of the scenes where Klaus broods over Caroline and here we are, on this rare occasion, to see some of the changes I've made. Spoilers under the cut:

“You are in such a foul mood today.”

Klaus made a noise that might have been a growl. “If you hadn’t noticed, Esther is still out there no doubt plotting another way to kill me and my family. Not to mention my siblings are still bound together making us more vulnerable than ever. And now-” he ground out, hissing the words through his teeth, “I find out that a white oak of the same line as the tree that made us vampires might be out there somewhere in the world, waiting to be used to kill us.” Klaus glared dangerously at Sam, lip curled as he turned around to stare instead at the fire. “My mood is perfectly appropriate.”

“So…” Sam took another bite of his apple, slowly raising it to his mouth, eyes on Klaus, who was watching the sketches become devoured by flames, a brooding hand resting under his chin. As Sam chewed, he gestured to the fireplace with the apple core. “It has nothing to do with why you’re burning sketches of one Caroline Forbes?” he asked, perfectly innocent.

“I’m burning them because she means nothing to me,” he ground out through gritted teeth, refusing to turn and deign Sam with a glance. “She was a passing fancy, nothing more.”

Sam titled his head, squinting. “The wolf didn’t seem to think that.”

“My wolf is clearly defective,” Klaus spat, throwing a hand out, abandoning his attempt at a calm, contemplative stance.

“If you say so,” Sam muttered with raised brows, deliberately not looking at Klaus and instead focusing on his phone as he munched on his apple.

Klaus shook his head, glaring into the flames as he watched the sketches burn. Sam’s silence gnawed at him, making him twitch with the urge to explain himself.

It wasn’t long before he did. 

“I knew Esther was planning something, I knew she would betray us and I did nothing because I was distracted by a girl that leapt at the chance to attack my family the second opportunity arose,” he burst out, whirling on Sam. Mouth halfway to his apple, Sam froze, rather wide-eyed. Klaus continued on regardless, his words growing more vicious, poisoned with such vitriol, his lips curled into a snarl. “Kol got daggered because of her! The Salvatores nearly killed you - because of her,” he spat, emphasised with a pointed jab to the floor. Sam lowered his apple, cowered by the wild look in Klaus’ eye. The man in question laughed, a short huff of bitterness, gesturing to Sam angrily, inviting him to prove him wrong. “So please, tell me why I should entertain this infatuation any longer? When it has proved to be dangerous not only to my own sanity but also to the safety of this family.”

Sam didn’t say anything for a long moment, his appetite completely forgotten. Then, slowly, he looked up at Klaus, a certain defiance in his eye.

“She knew about the champagne, Nik,” he said softly. Immediately, the anger, the readiness for a fight - it all drained away, leaving Klaus feeling wrong-footed in the face of Sam’s pointed truths. “Granted, she didn’t know what spell was in the champagne; didn’t know you weren’t linked to your siblings… but she knew you hadn’t drunk it. And she didn’t tell her friends.” Sam smiled sadly, shrugging helplessly. “Maybe it is stupid. Maybe it is a mistake. But if it was me? Personally, I’d want to know why she didn’t betray you as much as you’d like to believe.”

Klaus forced himself to swallow. He quickly looked away, unable to keep looking at the expression on Sam’s face that seemed to see through him entirely, his words resonating loudly inside his mind. Heaving a sigh, Sam stood, throwing the apple core into the nearest wastebasket. He hesitated before leaving the room, gaze softening on Klaus, sympathy in his eyes. 

“Just because your parents didn’t love you, doesn’t mean no one else will,” he said. 

Then Sam left, not allowing him time to respond. Klaus glared at his back, hands clenched so hard his knuckles turned white. 

“Love is a vampire’s greatest weakness,” he ground out, calling after him.

Sam stopped in his tracks, slightly turning his head back towards Klaus. Then he smiled, and with one sentence, shattered a belief Klaus had closely courted for centuries. 

“Good thing you’re not a vampire then, isn’t it?”

And with that parting remark, Sam turned with a smirk and left the room, leaving Klaus wide-eyed, forced to contemplate over what he had said. In the dancing flames of the hearth, the sketches Klaus had thrown into the fire continued to burn, flames licking at their edges and crawling across the lines of charcoal and pencil, leaving nothing but ash behind. He looked down at the last sketch of Caroline he’d drawn: the first moment she stepped into his studio, eyes wide with awe as she craned her head to look up at the paintings hung around on the walls. Fingers reverently skimming over her face, he gently tugged the paper from the pad but didn’t throw it into the flames like the others, placing his sketchbook aside on the mantel almost with half a mind. Then, careful not to damage the soft lines of Caroline’s features, he folded the sketch tentatively in two and slipped it into his back pocket.

He told himself he would burn it later. He didn’t.