THIS BLOG IS AN ARCHIVE

It takes a moment for him to register where he’s at because judging by Bellamy’s awful GPS skills they could be halfway to Africa by now and neither of them would know. But eventually he recognizes it. His family mansion and a smile touches to the corners of his lips as he trails his gaze towards his friends. “ This is how we’re celebrating my birthday? “ he questions. “ Only my father is home. “ The rest of his family is off in New York, holiday shopping no doubt. But not his father. No, never him. He stays at home, takes advantage of the maids and revels in his awful humanity. “ Which is precisely why you brought me here. “

Nik had left home some years ago, treading the line between orphan and runaway. He had met Bellamy in New York, looking for a flatmate. Eventually they got on well enough to consider one another friends but now they were brothers. They had killed together. A couple girls to see how it felt. But there was something more that they needed - purpose. And if this was Bell’s idea of purpose Nik was all in.

His smile widens as he gets out of the car, feeling for the knife in the inside pocket of his jacket. He makes his way towards the door, knocks, waits. The girl opens and when he doesn’t answer her questions his father comes to the door. Disheveled, interrupted in the middle of sex no doubt. A grin touches to his lips as he stops him from closing the door on him. 

the town seemed a bit dull in comparison to new york. he couldn’t blame nik for running away simply for that fact. but he knew his real reasons. so, he had got this idea. it hadn’t been too long ago that they had been talking about going fresh, starting new some where else. but in order to do that you had to kill your past off. take a dive into the dark and never look back. when you’re hurting, you’re burning. and everyone can see and smell you from miles away. when you’re burning you’re afraid. and when you’re afraid you can never let go.

so, he’s driven him out to the source of all of nik’s fear. mikael didn’t impose but he had a steel to his eyes. something that felt like an ice cold burn. and bell decides he hates the asshole already. if this wasn’t therapy for nik he would have just killed him himself. but he knew what this sort of therapy was like. he knew that it had to be nik.

his relationship with his mom hadn’t been like nik’s and his dads. not at all. but it had been as volatile as it had been loving. and he had gotten tired of her yoyo dance between needing him around and her latest boyfriend. some days he swears he didn’t mean to kill her, some nights he swears her latest had just been collateral damage. either way it had given him the taste for killing. and from then on out his whole life had flipped over. it had changed.

so here he was hoping the same thing would happen for nik. kill the dad, kill the fear. and move on. they could do bigger and better things this way. he lets out a small laugh, shaking his head at what nik’s dad says. because he can’t believe the bastard didn’t even care that this whole time he had been gone. he deserved to die. out of all the people that they killed he deserved it. it wasn’t just a cheap thrill or a feeling that they needed. he deserved it.

“ Are you going to tell me what I’m doing here? “ he questions. One moment he’d been standing in the closed off wing of the DYAD hospital, the very wing where so many babies had been taken from their mothers. He’d been watching Coady attempt to find a cure for whatever strain was currently roaming the back of his mind. Where Leda’s bodies slowly withered his and his brother’s minds were slowly deteriorating. He wouldn’t survive this and maybe Klaus had accepted it as fact but he didn’t feel that ache of desperation any longer.

Where they were though looked like a kind of safe house. And Bellamy looked entirely out of sorts. Of course Klaus should trust him. They were after all trained under his regime, commanded under his authority and given strength because of him. He had been the one to tell them what they were, to make them conscious. Bellamy had been the one to first write down the first girl Klaus had been with, his hand shaky as he realized the consequence. 

THE FUTURE IS FEMALE. It had been the last thing that Klaus had heard before blackness had swallowed his consciousness. Now he felt somewhat drowsy and confused and overwhelmed and there was a touch of fear that sank bone deep. Bellamy wouldn’t hurt him. Where Coady had been the toxic mother Bellamy had stepped into the role of teaching father and Klaus had learned to depend on him no matter what. 

 everyone was always looking for leda. everyone was always doing what they could to either tear down the project or make it thrive. he knew that both options were incredibly dangerous. and while he was in full support of what anyone did to take down these tests Leda had never been his problem. he knew that he wasn’t a good man. that he wasn’t cut out for saving people. he had walked in on project castor fully aware. knowing what it was. 

 it took some time but his mind had changed. he thought too much, saw too much. the castor boys had only been children when he had been brought on. but they had been treated like no better than animals. unlike leda, who were given families and homes castor were weaponized. trained to kill. soldiers. 

 he had tried in the very beginning to see them as such. to pretend like when he looked at these kids that they were nothing but a project. but the more time he spent with them, the more he was told to teach them there formed an attachment with all of them. each one of them hung onto him for one reason or another. and he felt it his duty to keep them safe. not to train them to kill as his superiors had told him. 

 and yet he had failed them all, hadn’t he? he had trained them to be good soldiers, strong, resilient. but now klaus was the last of the boys and that hurt. that was painful. each of them had died, lost their minds or killed in this endless war that the now aware leda clones had waged on their makers. he should hate them for his losses. he wanted to. 

quiet. everything had been quiet since her brother’s death. it seemed as if the whole world had fallen into a shade of gray. had fallen into the darkness that swam wild in rebekah’s eyes. he wanted so badly to end the pain. but he doesn’t know where to start. he knows the feeling of lost. his mother had died when he was only a child. yet the pang of losing a sibling is nothing something he knew. he feels heavy, he feels hollowed. there’s a shade of gray over everything.

rebekah can’t sleep properly of late. so he tried to help her. she slept longer with it now. the baby though, misses her in the lull. and although he loves his daughter his hands are not made for nurturing. so when rebekah stirs he doesn’t insist that she go back to sleep. there’s only so long that the two can be away from each other. she loves eira somuch. and that made him love her all the more.

love. it’s a strange concept, not a mystery altogether. but something to be awakened. she was beautiful, exceptionally so. and she was good around the household, with a pure love for their daughter. but there was so much more to it than the simple though, something he couldn’t describe. something quiet, like a sweet ache whenever he looked at her.

he reaches his hand out to lightly encircle her wrist, leaning a little towards her now. her mother had come here. she had been urgent, on edge. and it had ignited in worry in him. it wasn’t just grief alive in her eyes when she was asking about rebekah. she wanted her to know that things were already under way. whatever that meant.

he tried to tell himself that, no, she hadn’t just up and left. She hadn’t left a note saying she couldn’t deal with a baby and she hadn’t left a one year old baby girl in her crib without any instruction. He didn’t know what to think other than the fact that he didn’t want to tell himself it had actually happened. She would be back. This was her baby she wouldn’t just up and leave. He wasn’t alone without a single ounce of knowing what to do.

But as the hours ticked by, his little girl drinking her bottle and a dozen phone calls left unanswered, there was only one explanation. She was gone and for good too. She was done and Nik felt a drop in his capacity for feeling.

Finally now that night had whispered its veil across the afternoon sky there was a knock at the door. Scooping his daughter up into his arms he crossed the living room and pulled open the door. Bellamy was standing there on the other side. Best friend since they were in middle school, fellow alcoholic and the only bloke that Nik felt he could trust with something like this. The lack of surprise written across Bell’s face made it seem as though it wasn’t a surprise at all.

 the phone call was late but not completely unexpected. given who Nik had decided to shack up with it was only  a matter of time before things went to shit. Nik sure knew how to pick them is what he always thought. he wasn’t going to tell him that he told him. that would be pretty damned screwed up. so he has to go over there when he asks. not that he really wants to. because Nik sounds like he’s got something of a load on his back. and he swore he’d help out. 

 when he gets there Nik looks worn down. a little on the anxious side. but he’s cradling the kid like he wouldn’t let anyone take her from him. he knows that he loves his kid. of course he does. seems like it would be in his nature to really like him. but it’s pretty obvious that Nik didn’t think so. 

 he moves inside and watches them for a moment. lets out a small laugh at what he said. he gives a small shake of his head. he’s not even sure where to start. most of the things he did with Octavia had all been touch and go. sometimes he would watch his mom with her, especially on her good days. she had always been good with them, regardless of everything. and he learned. but Nik’s asking him for advice and he doesn’t know what to say. 

@amongthcwreck / @seesgood ~ because blorbeson is a thing

It didn’t take him long to take to this kind of life. A world where nothing mattered, where all he could see in  the forseeable horizon was miles upon miles of rolling waves and little else. There was no looking over his shoulder or no threats coming from every which way. there was just the peace that came with breathing, with looking up at the sky and feeling a sense of freedom as it swirled around him. He had never tasted actual freedom before and yet he felt it now. Locked up in the crash of the waters around them on this small little island. It lived in the drinks he took down with Bell once whatever work they had was finished. Freedom rested in the blue of her eyes and the smile he got from her every morning. Freedom was the lack of burdens on his shoulders and it felt perfect.

Not to say that there weren’t a million wounds. There were. Caroline had been taken, held for days and there was no way that scars didn’t get created in that amount of time no matter how many times she said she was alright. He didn’t want to press because he knew what trauma looked like, he knew what it was like to hold in years upon years of scars only to have them burst at the seams and take over your entire inside. She would open up when she wanted to. She would take his hands and tell him everything when she was okay again.

Then there was himself and Bell, they’d killed for the first time then. Of course there had been reason enough. She had been taken and wasn’t being released. They couldn’t leave her there, couldn’t leave her fate in the hands of those that said that they would protect her. Where their contact kept he information rolling he and Bell made sure she came back to them safe. Because what were they without her but two disjointed pieces attempting to find a sort of balance in the echo of overwhelming bad decisions and their idea of good ones. With her they burned bright and that was what mattered. She was what mattered.

Taking another breath Klaus tosses the rock he’d been holding into the shoreline before he continued off towards their small house. Windows opened everywhere, scent of the beach whispering through every inch of the place and the smell of whatever breakfast was being cooked up inside. “ Cooking without me? ” he announces, amusement lingering in his eyes as he takes up one of the bottles of alcohol from off the counter to fill himself a drink. “ Should I be worried? ” he usually took care of that but for now it was easy enough being alive, good enough being able to look between the two of them after he’d downed his drink and feel that touch of relative peace. “ Please tell me there’s a plan for tonight if not there’s a chance I might get bloody bored and neither of you enjoy me when I’m bored. ”

she pretends the nightmares don’t bother her. and they let her get away with it, for the most part. because no matter how badly she sleeps at night, she’s always smiling by morning. dragging whichever one of them frowns less on her excursion of the day. she drags bell to teach her how to surf, klaus to show her how to paint, other mornings it’s just walking on the beach or wading in the water. a quiet life, peaceful. weird, considering everything they left behind. but things are different now. settled, but unsettled all at once. she’s seen them kill, seen how their eyes change when their finger squeezes against a trigger, throws a torch at a man covered in gasoline. she pretends it doesn’t bother her. knowing they had to do it for her. knowing they’d do it again. knowing she’s bringing about the ruin of not just one, but two great men. 

today, it’s cooking. and bellamy is the victim. she wakes up before him, rolls over until she’s nearly lying on top of him, chin resting on his chest as she smiles, brushing away a mussed lock of hair from his forehead. waits until he rouses enough to entertain her. she’s pretty sure he knows his fate the second he opens his eyes to see her grinning. that grin. the one that’s too bright for too early in the morning. she demands pancakes, and bacon and eggs and almost pushes for chocolate chips — but decides big burly war men aren’t one for chocolate chip pancakes. by the time klaus comes back from whatever it is that klaus does when he makes himself scarce — she’s sitting with her legs dangling off the edge of the counter, always smiling, watching with interest as the pancake batter slowly rises. 

things were different now. or at least they were supposed to be different, weren’t they? things were supposed to be good, with all that bad shit behind them. they were supposed to be happy. they were supposed to be okay. and it seemed, for the most part, like things were actually working out for them. he wanted to be hopeful. but he was bad when it came to optimism. he did his best to try at it. seemed like he relied on caroline when it came to that. and she relied on them for what? to keep her protected, safe at all costs. failed there. but things are getting better. it’s like a mantra he tells himself every morning because she’s there. she’s actually there. they survived it.

so, he doesn’t talk about it. better to stay silent than to bring all of that back to life. they were making something for themselves here. their own little world. and he wanted to hold onto that. nik was always one to build, to create. he admired him for that. wanted to be able to do something that grand. but his hands hadn’t ever been made for building. after the military he felt like he had hit a rut. it was nik who had pulled him out of that, got him in on the business. his best friend, his brother. he always had his back. and he always had his. if it hadn’t been for nik he didn’t think he’d make it this long. if it hadn’t been for nik he didn’t think that caroline would have ever gotten saved. he owed his life to him. and he would spend the rest of his life making sure he knew that his loyalty would always be to him first.

this morning, no, this place is supposed to be about pressing restart and doing what they can to make the most of their life together. so far, he wants to say it’s been good. caroline looks happy, alight in the ways she hadn’t been directly after everything that had happened. but he’s not entirely sure. he’s stayed silent on the subject, always digging for distractions. like breakfast this morning or turning her attention to something that’d make her smile. giving into her this morning had been just that, keeping her happy, her mind as far away from it as possible.

he would have asked nik to pour him one had she not taken it from his hand. they all had their ways of coping. he tended to favor nik’s. drinking made you forget, loosened the tension. but now she’s talking about doing something. and that’s the distraction that’s needed. how long can they live off of those? he’s not sure. but he guesses they will eventually find out. “i hate dancing. nik spends too much money. and what if we got lost in the ocean. those are terrible ideas.” but he’s laughing already, half way through it. plating up the rest of the food. he turns to look at nik. “as long as it’s not all three. i can’t handle all three.”

He can remember every detail of the last night he’d been in New Orleans. The fear, the rising worry that his life had thus ended. His father had fallen upon the city and now he knew that Marcel had conjured the plan in order to take the city for himself. The betrayal had been sharp, twisting like a blade at the center of his chest. His son, his ward, his right hand man - none of it had mattered because Marcel had seen fit to usurp him and with Mikael no less. Klaus would return to his city, he would take back his crown and he would rule again. But he needed more power. He needed to prove that he was the one that should be followed.

He needed his hybrids. He needed to break this bloody curse.

tomorrow night. and he wondered how long after that it would take for him to give him what he had promised. becoming a hybrid. it seemed unreal, it seemed like some sort of dream that wasn’t ever going to happen. but here it is. here it is waiting for him. and he’s on edge. he trusts klaus. which is a strange feeling. he so rarely trusts anyone. but who else was there? who else was there for him to put any faith into? he had gone to new orleans to see the myth of the klaus mikaelson and he had gotten more than he had expected. 

he looks at him now for a long moment, eyeing him. klaus mikaelson didn’t know what it was to be a wolf, he hadn’t ever really lived completely as he was meant to be. but here he is willing to be that it was going to be better than what he already had. anything would be better than being ruled by the full moon, would it not? even having that part of himself be what his kind were sworn to hate. klaus could bring a calming sense of symmetry. 

It takes a moment for her to realize she isn’t alone and when she does she isn’t expecting him. Of course things between Bellamy and herself were touch and go. One minute she felt like sinking her fangs into his neck and the next she wanted to bury herself against him to escape every single feeling that’s been bleeding her dry. Guilt. Anger. Betrayal. All of it was apart of her, inside of her. Marcel had betrayed her and now she was alone and harboring a secret that might unravel everything they’d built here.

 everything took a strange turn when he had joined two originals on some sort of adventure. he hadn’t been sure where it would take him. he wouldn’t have guessed italy. he wouldn’t have guessed that he would be standing right here waiting for klaus mikaelson’s curse to be broken. and after that? what then? the possibilities were endless. and he felt a sudden surge of something inside of him. a need to stick around and find out what exactly it was that was promised him.