ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒˡᶠ˒

"So you just like to torture her? Because that's not any better." Interesting how she switched gears there on Katherine, but we digress, the judgement of him remains the same.

Elena hated how right he was about that. How under her skin he was. The worst part was it wasn't even all hatred. Some parts of him were genuinely interesting. Not parts she would ever admit to willingly mind you, but they were there.

Made ever so apparent by the way her body temp rose as his lips pressed to her knuckles.

Elena doubled down on her scowl.

"You're exhausting you know that? Doesn't it ever get boring pretending you don't care that people hate you? That no one actually likes or wants to be around you? Wouldn't it be better for everyone including you if you just stopped being such a terrible person constantly?"

❛ that is a grotesquely simplified view of my bond with katerina, love. though i admit i'm a bit surprised at your sudden sympathetic view of her, little lamb. your compassion knows no bounds, does it? ❜ though the words sounded more akin to a compliment, the way they were delivered implied the opposite. his head tilted as she spoke again, observing the furrow between her brows and the judgement she was so clearly clinging to ⸻ as if it were a shield. ❛ doesn't it ever get boring being so self-righteous? ❜ he countered, a sudden tug to her hand pulling her forward and flush against him. ( deflect, distract ). his voice lowered to a rumble, the sound near intimate, ❛ wouldn't it be better to give up this moral high ground? i have seen the darkness in you, the way it calls to you while you pretend it doesn't exist must be exhausting. ❜ his free hand trailed up her spine, slowly. accompanied by him leaning in closer, crowding in on her space even further. ❛ why not give in, sweetheart? the dark side isn't so bad. ❜

THE REDHEAD ROCKS ON HER HEELS, a vision of nonchalance patching it's way over her freckled facial features. Jessie knows what it's like to be hunted, having had killed a few vampires just this week for appearing out of nowhere. who would've thought that having an extremely popular maker would make her public enemy number one for killing him? nonetheless, the woman shrugs her shoulders. "And I'm suppose't jus' take your word for it?" Jessie muses, the blood from Klaus' victims seemingly inches way too close to her boots. "'Kay." Almost too agreeable in a sense; but it was better to just shrug off the minor details than to dwell. Glancing sideways at the bodies, she sighs a bit at the wrecked state of them. Salvaging that kind of corpse was almost impossible when it comes to transporting. She can do it, it will just take a bit of problem solving, the pros and cons of being in some shady business ventures. Jessie meets his eyes again, hand moving and extending to move her hair behind her ear and out from falling in her face. "I'd ask ya if you were wantin' t'get drinks but it seems like you've already gotten your fix." A reference to his red face. "So how about I walk ya home, yanno, in case some other rude fuckers come outta the woodwork."

it matters not whether she believes him or not, of course ⸻ though most expect the worst of him regardless ( why bother trying to prove them wrong? ). the whole endeavor had been rather a waste of his time, given the hunger that still rages under his skin despite the bodies he'd bled dry. ah, how he misses the days when he could drain an entire village with any that came across the massacre being none the wiser as to the cause. the earth has become far too populated in the last few centuries, the dichotomy of having a larger blood supply but also more eyes watching being rather vexing. low chuckle rumbling his chest, he steps over a body to approach her, so casual in his movements despite it all. ❛ on the contrary, i can never get enough to truly satisfy. ❜ just enough to not lose himself to the madness of the all-consuming hunger. eyebrow jumping towards his hairline, his lips curl up at the corner despite the sardonic tint gracing his expression. ❛ walk me home? color me affronted. i believe it should be the other way around, love. ❜ as if he would ever be so weak as to require escorting. ❛ unless you are actually worried about the safety of those who would attempt to attack me, knowing just how morbidly futile that would be? ❜

Earlier in the day, she felt something tickle the back of her mind. A bad thing. She brushed it off, knowing damn well that she would regret that --- and now here she was, filled with regret as she stood opposite him.

ah, his favorite bennett witch ⸻ she was also the only living one he knew, but that was hardly relevant. echoing an encounter they had shared years prior, he placed a hand over his heart, put upon expression of hurt unable to hide the mirth beneath the surface. he always did appreciate her bite. ❛ you wound me, love. ❜ moving closer, he appeared every bit the dignified gentleman he wasn't. ❛ after everything we have shared together, i thought you would perhaps miss me even a bit. ❜

" you can get away with anything, as long as you act like an authority on the truth. " from @klaeus

doe eyes are somehow a juxtaposition to themselves: so soft, lacking in any cruelty or malice... yet so incredibly sharp. she's not naive. has never been naive, always watching others, always learning. she knows when there's a fox in the room  - knows the smell of danger in the air as well as any hare might. there's a dancer's grace to how she moves, even in just picking up old book, how she shifts it in her hands to open it with tender care.

matching her, as if he is a sheep rather than a wolf among men, he settles on his own book to study. ❛ of course there is, love. those with power are free to determine whatever truth they wish ⸻ history has long been told this way. ❜ as one who was remade to both witness history and read how humans record it, it is clear much of humanity's story has been edited to suit the narrative of whomever had been ruling at the time. a bit too predictable to truly be entertaining, but at least a sense of superiority was provided each time he found a discrepancy. expression holding that unique blend of bemusement and barely veiled annoyance, he raises an eyebrow. ❛ you are only able to offer something so common? that hardly seems worthwhile. ❜

She met his smirk with an unrelenting expression somewhere between a glare and a pout.

"Are you seriously trying to blackmail me out of my depression?" She scoffed.

"Why do you make everything about you? You can't even let me be depressed without making a guest appearance."

The doppelganger rolled her eyes.

he clicked his tongue in disapproval. ❛ blackmail is such a . . . harsh word, love. i would prefer to use motivate, perhaps encourage. ❜ of course, he wasn't truly giving her a choice, for it would be a waste of his time if she continued to do nothing and bore him ⸻ but he could keep that to himself. breezing past her little dig, his gaze was full of judgement as he eyed her up and down. ❛ i believe a better question would be how would that do anything for your depression? ❜ a pause. ❛ but very well, if you insist. ❜ moving again, he now occupied the other side of her bed, back against the headboard and long legs stretched out, her teddy bear resting comfortably in his lap. ❛ what are we watching? ❜

✝ | | | @klaeus ⁽ klaus ₎ ↳ [ receiver is injured and sender heals them using their blood. ]

never once did cecily think she would ever find herself grasping feebly at the arm of klaus mikaelson — yet here she lies; bloodied hand curling into his flesh with a biting strength. it burns, fucking fuck, it burns — it boils in her blood, she can feel the sickness eating her like poison. site of the wolf bite is blossoming with black veins ( ... ) tendrils seeming to choke the life from a flower of splotchy purples. nothing has been this painful since her transition; cecily writhing against hardwood floors as she struggles to spit a word free. ❛ ❛ help m-me, or kill me. pl– ease. ❜ ❜ ( just end it, god, end it — ) she wants to scream, pain festering &. splintering until she's gasping on her own words. wide gaze bears into the original knelt at her side, cecily gripping him with enough ferocity to leave bloodied crescent marks. she'd meant it; eight hundred years on this earth, &. willing to take the permanence of death over suffering through this pain for a moment longer.

when klaus wrenches his arm from her grip, she watches through blurred vision – slowly going dark at the edges – as his fangs tear into the meat of his own wrist. dark blood pours forth, dripping down pale arm in a macabre display of power. something about it occurs as gruesomely beautiful to cecily, ( — or you're just high on the festering infection ... this seems more likely ). mangled wound at the junction of her neck &. shoulder swelters with heat, nearly blinding her with the pain ( ... ) cecily is close to losing consciousness when his bloodied arm is finally pressed to her lips. with no hesitation, she drinks; eager for this cure to her affliction regardless of who is giving it. she can feel the poison waning, the heat letting off, &. the sudden rush of relief that overcomes cecily is enough to finally allow the darkness to consume her. with lips stained red &. gruesome wound now mending itself slowly, cecily's eyes fall closed — head lolling backwards.

the put upon expression of sympathy doesn't appear quite right when painting his face, likely due to the whisper of bemusement that can just barely be seen beneath it. calloused fingers trail down her wound, near tender in their movement, yet too overshadowed by an eerie chill to truly be so. a beatific smile pulls at his lips, the pain from her death grip little more than pinpricks. head tilting to the side, a little mournful sigh leaves him. ❛ mmm, but you are so beautiful like this, lásko, ❜ he croons, noting the color of the venom in her veins would make for a nice addition his palette. still, it would hardly do for her to actually move on to the other side, and so he splits open his flesh for her, the blood that can lead to either damnation or salvation flowing into her. ❛ there we go. ❜ he strokes her hair, the wounds that she had bestowed upon him with that frantic grip of hers healing even faster than her own. they would both be healed in no time at all, the wounds nothing more than a memory ⸻ but ones that would be remembered.

the thought occurs to him that he is rather akin to a god as he observes the wound closing, that gleam of sadistic satisfaction in his eye as he trails his fingers over it. so easily can he dangle both life and death before most anyone he encounters, their life being taken or saved entirely on his whim. her agony is one he will never experience himself, so above what harms others as he is. a privilege that has been hard earned after countless eons, and one he intends to use to the fullest. ❛ now, what shall i ask of you in return for this favor? ❜ he hums, largely to himself as his arms slide under her to lift her with ease. she will awaken in his territory, having been laid to rest upon his furniture while he awaits in silent vigil nearby ⸻ leaving no room to deny what had happened or what he had done for her. his atelier seems fitting, the perfect place to capture the lovely fragility of her in this moment and put that new shade of purple to use. there would be another piece of art in her likeness, and he expects her reaction will be entertaining, regardless of whether it is to be positive or negative.

         "it’s good to see you too, klaus." her tone was light and unguarded before she answered his question with a glance at her notes. "i've been buried in books; literature, history, even some biology. it’s… fascinating, piecing together how the world works. i’ve just been trying to keep up with classes, and stay out of trouble. it’s quiet, mostly." her passion for her life as student flickered through her words, though a shadow crossed her expression. "less exciting when it comes to feeding, though. i’m still not very good at it." drinking blood appalled her so she reduced it to when it was absolutely necessary. however, she had no idea why she told him this, why she was so honest. she wanted to please him for some reason and assumed that this was not a detail of which she should be particularly proud.

         natalia tilted her head, curiosity sparking. "plans bearing fruit here? that sounds… big." the compulsion softened any wariness, her tone warm and genuine.

if only others were so agreeable ⸻ his plans would've met far fewer complications were that the case. such a friendly greeting was rather enjoyable as well, regardless of how fake it was. few people were happy to see him, but he supposed that was the tradeoff for commanding respect the way he did. he hummed in acknowledgement to her rambling, though he also considered compelling her not to drone on in such a way. reaching over to pluck the notes from her grasp, studying them for a moment with a critical eye. rather accurate, but as someone who lived through much of it, there were clearly some inaccuracies. ❛ sounds dreadfully dull, love. surely you could learn far more from travelling and seeing things for yourself, hm? ❜

an eyebrow quirked at her admission. ❛ even after all this time? ❜ he inquired, appearing less than impressed. if not very good at it meant she had no control and was killing recklessly, she was a liability. if not very good meant she was too skittish to feed on humans and was instead drinking animal blood, she was weak and therefore just shy of useless. tossing the papers back in front of her, he reclined in his seat as a sigh left him. ❛ are you in need of instruction? ❜ he certainly wasn't one for mentoring, but even he was forced to admit it would be a waste of all that time if she continued to flounder now. ❛ indeed, and i have no intentions of leaving any time soon. if we can make you useful to me again, you will have a front row seat to my impending victory. how does that sound? ❜

@klaeus : " if you don't do something, i will. "

he has never been one for waiting, a fact all the more true when bloodshed is involved. her warning just barely manages to hold him back, but he his clearly not pleased about it, twitching as the gaping maw within him stirs with the need for blood. ❛ or perhaps we are simply providing them plenty of time to plot as we stand around admiring the scenery. ❜ the distaste is obvious in his expression as he swats aside a particularly determined branch, form tense with unspent energy. he needs to move soon, take a life or two ⸻ before he loses the tenuous grip he has on his self-control and lashes out at someone much closer. ❛ i resent the implication that i cannot both be angry and have my wits about me. ❜ he has spent much of his life angry, and yet managed to accomplish quite a bit in spite of it. despite the complaints, he remains behind her, taking a slow breath in and out in an attempt to cool his blood. ❛ however, if you insist, i suppose i will follow your lead. though i do hope you have been forming a plan while we have been biding our time? ❜ his is not accustomed to being a follower rather than a leader, but if he is to survive this current . . . predicament, he has to admit he needs to play nice. no matter how frustrating.