#perfaede

she’s surprisingly calm.   frighteningly so. something about this feels terribly practised despite it being her first time. maybe it’s the fact that she’s already in too deep. damon is already dead. his head has already been delivered to stefan’s doorstep, wrapped in a tidy, neat little bow. this, now, elena quietly sitting in the chair under her orders, seems a bit tame in comparison.

caroline grips the back of the chair hard enough for the wood to splinter just slightly under her hand. she can hear klaus’ footsteps nearing the open door, slow and measured. she counts down the seconds she still has left to back out— 5... the window is open, she could just hop right out, run, disappear before she ever has to face klaus the hybrid. klaus the horrible. (but oh, no amount of running will change the fact that she had already become caroline the murderer). 4 ... 3 ... 2 ...

OK SO.... i like to think, on the contrary, finn & klaus got along when they were humans. not exceptionally well since he still preferred elijah’s company, then elijah & rebekah as rebekah got older, then elijah & rebekah & henrik as he got older. (ultimately he’d hang with henrik the most but this post isn’t abt him for once)

he loved finn, he really did, he was a better father figure to him than mikael ever was & he taught him plenty about sword fighting, even if he never got involved in the games elijah & klaus used to play

In case you don't live forever, let me tell you now I love you more than you'll ever wrap your head around In case you don't live forever, let me tell you the truth I'm everything that I am because of you

He ran. It was the first thing he did. He didn’t stop to explain who he was to the strangers, or why he had intercepted their little rescue mission. He just threw a hurried “Sorry!” over his shoulder and took off, as fast as he could. Escape. Escape. Escape. Find them.

Only when his muscles began to burn and the air in his lungs struggled did he slow to a stop and finally think about what had happened. He stared at his hands, felt his face and the clothes against his skin, and laughed breathlessly. What a strange sensation it was to be alive again after an eternity of wandering, unseen by those he cared most about. An eternity of loneliness.

For several weeks he ran westward and southward. He stole, he stayed in strange buildings, and stowed away on strange carriages. At long last he found the place he’d watched his siblings live in for so long: NOLA. The only problem was finding where in the city they were. It was so vast and full of so many people. And the nights, he learned, were crawling with danger.

He kept himself hidden, not knowing who to trust, as he scanned for familiar faces. It took several days, but finally, finally, he spotted one. Ragged and unkempt, Henrik hurried towards him, calling his name as he’d done uncountable times over the centuries. “Klaus!”

                            ( @perfaede​ ) «  you're not the worst brother ever

                      HE DIDN’T TURN around when he heard the door click open. He’d heard his brother down the hall, and Nik was the one most likely to skip over the dignity of knocking on his door ( though each and every one of his family had, at some point or another, violated his trust and his privacy in far worse ways than simply not knocking ), so it had only been a matter of moments before Kol expected the exact sound that he’d heard. He continued putting his books into a wooden crate, moving the more delicate ones to the side to be packed in his personal bag. 

He stopped moving for a moment, turning his head to the side, though never fully turning around. Kol figured if he was going to get daggered, he’d rather not see it coming.