The chaperone teacher from hell

It’s a diaper, not a BOMB. Though I could dismantle a bomb BLINDFOLDED if I needed to. var sc_project=11697764; var sc_invisible=1; var sc_security="9bdfe0df";

[alaricsaltxman]

@victoroflegacies || may the odds be ever in your favor.

He was drunk.

But Alaric was always drunk anymore. ESPECIALLY at this time of the year. The time when children were called forward for the sacrifice. Only one being allowed to live. And those that did live? Well, they would be just like him one day. A drunk and expected to coach next year’s sacrifice. And the year after that. And the one after that. Staying around the kids just long enough to grow attached. Then to watch them die. 

And they all died. From his district, anyway. He had been the lone survivor something close to twenty years ago now. And what a waste of twenty years it had been. 

Ric stood back against a wall, staring down at the ground, unwilling to watch the faces of the kids that were chosen as they tried to come to terms that they wouldn’t live to see the next season. 

Ladies first. 

The standard commotion. And then...

Alaric’s head snapped up as he searched for the voice. For the VOLUNTEER. It couldn’t be. Nobody volunteered in this district. Ric watched as the girl scaled the stairs, as she introduced herself. As she accepted the fate she’d chosen. It was a first.

“You did good, kid,” he muttered under his breath, looking back down at his shoes. What a strange thing to say to someone who’d just volunteered to die.

[alaricsaltxman]

happy father's day to alaric!!! for a gift, caroline will give him his crossbow back. you're very welcome.

“Care... This...

“This is why I became a father.”

[seesgood]

things you said at my grave || alaricsaltxman (I’m already sobbing, don’t touch me.)

                                                              ❝ i got in. ❞

she smiles, weakly, staring down at the headstone. the expression falters a moment later when her eyes settle over the numbers again. as hard as she tries, she can’t stop hoping that this is one of those cases where he’ll just…come back. he’s died before. he dies like every other week. there’s no reason this one deserves to be permanent. except, well, stefan’s right. this time is different because he didn’t die as a human. this time, he dies for real. damon was there. he saw. but still it…doesn’t entirely seem real. caroline’s weight shifts, fingers curling tighter around the now-crumpled piece of paper in her pocket. the essay he helped her work on before…well, before everything. some people thought it was weird. a vampire, going to college — wanting to go to college. but…not him. and whenever she’d needed a letter of rec, someone to look over her essay, he was there. despite everything going on. and now, in spite of everything, he never gets to see how it turns out.

                                             ❝ don’t let damon drink that, okay? ❞

she compels the guy at the liquor shop to give her the best bottle of bourbon they have, no questions asked. it’s not what he would have wanted  ( a teenager in a liquor shop, her taking something she didn’t pay for, compulsion )  but he’s dead. he doesn’t get a say in how she chooses to obtain his birthday gift. so she just rests it gently against the stone, fiddling for a moment with the rest of flowers there  ( elena, bonnie, and jeremy, no doubt. )  until it’s all neat and presentable. caroline hovers for a moment, just staring, wondering if he would have liked it before deciding that of course he wouldn’t, it would mean he’s dead. but…it can’t be so bad. 

               ❝ do me a favor and take care of her, okay? i mean, you do kinda owe me. ❞

the joke  ( and laugh )  she attempts falls flat, her hand coming up to wipe under her nose as she blinks back tears. she’s tired of crying. tired of feeling. elena, damon, and stefan are waiting at the front of the cemetery for her, promising her space as she visits her dad’s grave. except, she bypasses bill’s plot and heads straight for this one. because if there’s anyone that she trusts to make sure her mom is okay up there, it’s alaric. even if she’s not entirely sure they’re in the same place. but, like she says, he owes her. he’ll make it happen. she knows he will. because despite everything he did, she knows the guilt is still there. the need to make it better is there. and this…this is the only thing that can do it now.  ❝ she won’t really make any friends right away because she’s antisocial. and she’ll be worried about me. but, but i’m okay. you can tell her that. ❞  her words are thick with tears, nose burning with the need to let out the sobs she’s been holding in all day. ❝ and tell her i’m sorry. ❞  sorry she couldn’t save her. sorry for what she’s about to do. sorry she wasn’t strong enough to feel it.

                                                            ❝ we’ll be alright. ❞

lizzie lets out a sob as she says it, blonde hair turning in towards caroline’s neck as she lets the tears out. and josie…josie is steadfast as ever, one hand holding hope’s, chin lifted, trying to be strong. sometimes it scares her, how similar their daughters are to their parents. lizzie feels everything all the time and josie will hide it until it consumes her, overtakes her. and now, she supposes, there’s hope too. hope, who just lost the only other parental figure she’s ever had in a much-too-similar way that she had her biological father. caroline sighs, turning her head to press a kiss to the crown of lizzie’s head as she closes her eyes, fighting back against the tears. she’s been here before though. she’s been through this particular grief before. losing a loved one, losing a parent, losing a love. losing ric. 

                                            ❝ i’m so sorry. i’m so sorry. i’m so sorry. ❞

lizzie leaves. her tears having long since dried up, giving her one coveted moment alone with ric. and the new, smaller plot next to his. this time she can’t even stand though, dampness from the ground seeps into her, cold and wet and not nearly uncomfortable enough to make any of this worth it. her fingers curl into the loose dirt, like maybe if she just reaches in deep enough, she can pull them back out. it was her job. her job to stop the merge, her job to find a way to beat the curse, her job to make sure lizzie and josie didn’t face the same hell that luke and liv did. it’s her job to make sure jo’s children reach adulthood, live long and happy lives. her job to provide for them, protect them, care for them. alaric trusted her. and she failed. and now there’s one more saltzman buried in the cemetery. resting next to her father, in front of her grandmother, the dirt still fresh from where it was tossed over her coffin. there’s nothing she can do but apologize. beg for forgiveness. hope to god that he doesn’t hate her. his voice keeps echoing in her head, all the time they nearly lost them because of her. all the darkness that’s involved in her life. this is her fault. this will always, always be her fault.

                                                     ❝ i miss you. i miss them. ❞

there’s not much left of mystic falls cemetery now. the town has long since continued it elsewhere. the stones that are left here are mostly covered in grime, some chipping and fading away. there’s a few used blunts and cigarettes on the ground nearby from where teenagers have undoubtedly claimed as their space. the forbidden, mysterious spot in town. the old cemetery. most everyone left to remember anyone buried here is long since dead. except for her. that’ll always be the caveat, won’t it? except for her. the girl who still looks seventeen, who will always be doomed to watch her family and loved ones die. who will, despite how many decades pass, still come back to this very spot. she doesn’t need the markers anymore. doesn’t need to see the names. she knows every corner of this place by heart. elena and damon’s plot, stefan’s space in the mausoleum, her parents’ graves, alaric and jo, josie and lizzie, hope, bonnie, matt, tyler. they’re all here. her fingers slip into the pockets of her coat as she stands in front of his grave, wishing that there was more to say. something profound. something more meaningful. but there’s really nothing. he has jo. he has the twins. he has hope. no matter what they’re still family. even if she’s the only one that’s left.

@alaricsaltxman

[alaricsaltxman]

Andrew‌:

The spell takes hold fast, and mere moments after Andrew’s uttered the final words, Alaric is back. Well… back isn’t really the word. He’s here. Not physically. Not alive. That’s certainly a downside, but death is the only certainty in life, and Andrew’s around it so much that he’s entirely unfazed. Ric doesn’t look all that bent up about it, either. “How many times have you died, exactly?” he asks, breaking down his spell area before stepping over to the bag and digging through it for Ric’s cellphone. It’s off, which is irritating, so he presses the power button and turns back to Alaric, watching him closely. Oddly, none of Andrew’s other spirits are in the room, and he can’t feel them in the house at all. He wonders if Ric’s presence is too strong for them, or if they just got bored and took a wander. 

“This looks like a curse,” he says, ignoring the phone when it vibrates to indicate that it’s on now, and then vibrates again and again to signal missed text messages. But he doesn’t have a lot of time to be mad about this. “Reanimation isn’t my thing, so you better hope we can figure this out before your corpse decomposes.” He’s worried, is what he means, but christ knows he can’t say that. He picks up the phone instead. “What’s the code?”

“Including the time you killed me when we first met?” he asks, seeming to consider the question more than he perhaps should. “I think this makes ten? With one injury that came very near to death for me.” His gaze narrows and he studies his body. He recognizes the placement of the wound. He remembers spending weeks replacing bandages over that part of his chest. No. 

I don’t think it’s going to decompose, he thinks to himself, though he’s afraid to say the words out loud. If it’s not true, he’s offering false hope. If it is true... having hope could be the least of their worries. The tone of his voice remains impassive, though. Almost disinterested. There’s no point in worrying Andrew before it’s really necessary.

“Eleven-oh-four,” he replies, staring more at himself than at Andrew or the phone. The buzzing annoys him, it was why he’d turned it off before. And whatever anybody else might have to say to him feels unimportant. “Oh. He’s in the contacts as Dick. And when he finds out it’s not me on the other end, I can almost guarantee he’ll be rude. And / or hang up on you. There’s a reason I don’t keep in touch with him anymore.” Finally, he tears his eyes away from his own corpse. 

[alaricsaltxman]

Illusional Safety || Eloise and Alaric

[alaricsaltxman]

Eloise‌:

“You need a little fucking once in awhile.” Realizing that that could be taken in multiple ways besides swearing, she hid behind another sip of the number of drinks that accumulated in front of them. “Preschoolers are pretty fucking metal, Ric.” Gesturing forward with her glass. “They eat glue for fun and stuff legos up their noses.” Her laugh created bubbles in her drink in between sips, covering her mouth with her hand after setting it down.

The laughter died down, getting back into their anecdotes of the past. “So, disc golf is actually a thing? Not just in the movies?”

Minutes turned to hours and honestly, Eloise could’ve sat there for eternity—just listening. She must’ve lost track of time because her jaw nearly dropped when the waiter returned for last call. She snickered, making some comment about missing her curfew. Just sitting here with him all night made her feel like a giddy school girl on her first day.

Gladly, she took his hand with a nod, lacing their fingers as they made their way back to his car.

As they walked, Alaric checked himself to make sure he was actually sober enough to drive her home. But they’d eaten a decent sized meal and he’d drank slowly, too busy soaking in her stories, her voice, her warmth, to be able to care too much about drowning it all out in alcohol.

In the cab of his truck, quiet music played through the speakers. Despite his attempts, Alaric couldn’t stop smiling. He reached over and took her hand, squeezed it. And let the night settle around them.

“I’d like to see you again,” he said as he opened her door for her, offering a hand to help her out of the truck. “I mean... obviously, I want to see you again. But I was hoping something like... tomorrow. If you’re not busy. I think I can plan one of those hikes for you to Instagram. But if you have plans. Or papers to grade.” Shit. He had papers to grade. Whatever. Most of those kids didn’t want to know their grade anyway. “Then we’ll find another time. But if you’re free... I can be here at eleven? We can have a picnic when we come to a clearing along the trail?”

[alaricsaltxman]

This Place is a Prison || Shelby and Alaric

[alaricsaltxman]

S‌helby:

    “𝓞f course you can.” Shelby then leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Alaric and let the moment linger. Sadly she was quickly brought back to reality by the sound of Kol’s voice, as well as the threat that loomed over their heads of Klaus returning home and finding her there. “Yeah… No offence but I wasn’t planning on sticking around or anything. I just– Kinda came here to sort this stuff out and not…be someone’s next meal?”  Looking back toward Alaric, she gave a small nod before gesturing toward the front door. “Shall we?” The less she had to stick around life-threatening predators, the less her anxiety and overall sensitivities to energies would no longer go wild. 

More than the threat of Klaus returning to the compound, Alaric recognized his own posed threat in the simple way Kol had stepped away from him -- and Freya had stepped closer, prepared to put him down in defense of her brother. He spared a glance at the Mikaelson sister he’d never met before, and then squeezed Shelby’s hand before heading to the door. 

The urge, he realized, to eliminate the Mikalesons as he’d been created to do, was at least gone. It had been his one driving focus. His one need before Elena had died, taking him with her. 

“We can go to Rousseau’s. Or Pat O’Brien’s. Or, if your in the mood for Beignets, I’ll take you to Cafe Du Mond. They’re the best in the city.”

[alaricsaltxman]

Eloise:

So words left her mouth as Ric helped her out of the hospital bed and getting dressed. Nothing could change what happened…and what was going to happen.

She wished she could tell him it was going to be okay. She wished she could console him. She wished she could go back in time and never leave his side.

Fuck.

He opened the door for her and she didn’t expect the party that welcomed her. The woman who had been by her side through the trials of learning the fantastical world that wasn’t just make-believe. Her close friend. And the brother of the one who did this to her.

Her gaze dropped, wishing she could reassure him of something, anything. That she forgave Stefan - that it’ll be okay. But, even sunshine hesitated.

She needed time.

But, she looked at Damon with such sad eyes as somehow she was promising she’d talk Alaric out of doing anything intemperate.

The weakest smile she could muster when she looked towards Z again, nodding slowly as she initiated a promise.

Finally, her gaze met with Alaric again, never letting go of his hand as he mentioned home. Home. Their home they had just bought. The home their kids were supposed to grow up in.

Now what was it meant to be, but an empty shell. Just like her.

Alaric was silent through their entire journey. The only time he released her hand was to help her in and out of the truck, picking it up again as soon as they were next to each other. With a soft squeeze, he guided her up the front porch -- their garage was still full of boxes -- and to the front door. Then he froze.

“Fuck,” he whispered and a darkness spread beneath his eyes. 

With a sigh, he turned. “Come on, we’re going to enter the house through the back.” He could still smell her blood in the living room from where Stefan had attacked her. And that was the last thing she needed to see right now. There was a way up to their room through the kitchen, so he thought he could keep her from seeing it at all. And when she slept, he would clean the blood. 

Thank the gods we have wooden floors.

“I’m going to get you some water,” he said softly, ushering her into the kitchen. “And some snack food. So that when you wake... you’ll have something. And then we’re going to bed.”

[alaricsaltxman]

C‌amille:

Camille took the ledger between her hands once more, fingers closing around its edges and holding on tight.  She had put as much as she could into it, seeing the endeavor as a way to ensure she knew what she was dealing with.  Those objects — sometimes she thought of them as a ticking time bombs that would go off when they wanted to.  Sometimes she thought of giving them up but in the end, she couldn’t.

At least under her care she was sure that nothing bad could happen. 

“It’s far from complete, I know,” she told him as she stood.  “I am kind of limited on who I can trust to ask about them of course.  Tell the wrong person and suddenly I have vampires and witches at my door wanting to come in.”  She couldn’t exactly defend herself in that case.  Strangely enough she liked knowing that he had personal experience with these things.  Of course that was not extended to him hurting anyone, which was why she didn’t voice her thought aloud.  She was just glad to know that like her, he wasn’t interested in the power that could come from wielding a dark object. 

She moved with him to the door, raising a brow at his question.  “It’s okay.  If you want to feed — I’ve seen it all before.”  Been a part of it before, but he didn’t need to know that.  “It’s your home.  You can do whatever you like.  I appreciate the fact that you asked though.”  It said a lot about him and made her realize once and for all that she had done the right thing in coming there.

Alaric nodded once when she made it clear that she wasn’t uncomfortable with him drinking in front of her, and then locked the door to his office behind her. His mind was already reeling about the possibilities of not only what the dark objects could do, but how she could manage to get them back. He also considered the near level of necessity, of desperation she must have been in to bring this to a man she’d never met before. To trust a total stranger with these family secrets. Alaric was lost in thought through much of their walk as they exited the building. When the sunlight streaked across his face through the branches of trees, however, he looked up, seemingly surprised that they’d already made it outside. 

“I’m just in this lot on the back of the building,” he said, pointing. “Would you like a ride to your car?” He stayed on the sidewalk with her, out of the path of the bikes, and for a moment, Alaric studied her features. The steady beat of her heart. The determination set in her brow. 

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t incredibly intrigued by what you have in there,” he said, nodding toward the ledger. “It’s more... it’s impressive. Thorough. Don’t discredit yourself by saying that it’s not everything. I’m going to do what I can to help. But I don’t want to make the implication that it’s all out of the goodness of my heart.” Apparently, having Camille see him for who he thought he really was was important. Though Ric didn’t know why. “I wasn’t lying when I said I didn’t want to possess or use them. I don’t. But I am, at my core, a historian. I hope you’re ready for me to be annoyingly obsessed and engrossed in your family history.”

[alaricsaltxman]

Meredith‌:

“Maybe,” Meredith answered, her tone light and teasing.  “All I am saying is that you might want to rethink that first day back.”  There was absolutely nothing wrong with what he was wearing.  She just enjoyed the fact that the tension that begun this conversation had fully melted away.  They were having fun; not worrying about everything else.  They needed that.  He needed that.  It didn’t negate the very real danger but it did give him a break from it.

“Fine, fine — shoes and socks and anything else that comes in pairs count as one item,” she agreed as she slid into the seat.  Pulling her chips close, she watched as he moved to put on some music.  She leaned back, her eyes closing for a moment as the sound of it reached her ears.  Without even thinking she began to sing along, quietly of course (no need to scare the neighbors).  She then opened her eyes to look at him.

“It makes you a little hip.  Especially since everyone just uses Spotify now a days.  Grow yourself a beard and start wearing flannel on the regular and you’ll be all the way hip.  If that is your goal.”  Not his style of course.  Well, the flannel and the day old stubble were not out of the question — maybe he should throw in a man bun too?  

Meredith quickly lost herself in the game, wondering if he was any good at bluffing.  She thought herself fairly decent at it but then again everyone had a tell.  Satisfied with her hand, she decided to call him out.  “Think you can beat what I have here?” She asked, waving her hand back and forth.

Alaric’s eyes were light as they tossed in their bets, knowing that it wasn’t the chips but articles of clothing that they were both playing for. And, somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that there was a chance this could lead somewhere else. At least... a part of his male, ego-centric mind told him that it was a possibility. They had a history. And she was here, taking care of him, when they both knew that it was in her best interest to be as far away as possible.

In line with allowing himself to relax, Alaric didn’t hold back on drinking as they played. At one point, after telling her to hide her cards, he even stood to go and get them a bowl of chips. It didn’t matter that he was full from dinner. Cards required snack food. As he sat back down, Alaric’s eyes narrowed and he studied her closely. “I’m gonna call you, Dr. Fell,” he said with a playful smirk. “Because it’s only the two of us. So really, what choice do I have. Regardless. I think I’ve got you beat.”

He smacked down his cards, face up. Ric, to his credit, had two pairs, at least. Eights and threes. Granted, they weren’t the best pairs to have. But there were two of them, and it was better than what he’d originally started with. He quirked a brow. “Let’s see those cards.” Ric’s grin widened. “Or, better yet. You can skip right to showing me skin instead.”

[xgoldenhour]

Wherever You Are (Closed AU)

[alaricsaltxman]

Eloise‌:

The whole thing felt like a dream.

Yeah, Eloise was known to be impulsive, but not let’s go house hunting and buy a house immediately.

But, here they were, packing up their lives and moving to build a new one.

And honestly, she couldn’t be happier.

“Oh, and a waffle iron.” El pointed out, unable to wipe the smile off her face with a box underneath her arm.

She could imagine it all. Cooking together, reading in the study, getting the gang together for game nights. A life together.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, sugar pie.” The blonde giggled, imitating a Southern accent as she stood on her tippy toes to place a kiss on Ric’s jaw.

“Mmm…” She lingered, lips against his skin. “I love you, babe.”

“Was that you mocking me for being from the Carolinas?” he asked with a dopey grin on his face and hearts in his eyes. “I’m afraid for your pie, though, because I’ve been known to be far more salty rather than sweet.” Alaric winked once. And then, as she stretched to kiss his jaw, he wrapped an arm around her slender waist.

“I love you.” Ric brushed their noses together. “In case that wasn’t abundantly clear. You’re the sun in my sky, Eloise.” Alaric kissed her lips with a hum. When he straightened again, he sighed. “I’m going to pack the bedroom. You keep doing this. I’ll be back shortly. Shortly proved to be five whole minutes. And Ric emerged with a garbage bag full of clothes for donation and another filled with junk that would be better tossed in the trash. 

“Ugh!” he said, feigning exasperation. “You’re still not finished??”

[mscaroline-forbes]

Taken Away

[alaricsaltxman]

Caroline‌:

Caroline sighed but didn’t push it, knowing how stubborn Ric was when he was determined to do something. She sat beside him and pay close attention to everything he had to say. In between grimoires and other books she found some white papers and got the girls settled to make drawings while Alaric and her worked on the books. She sat with the twins while they ate and they told her all about what they had done while she was away. She wanted to soak up every second with all 3 of them. 

As time pass she could see how tired Ric was and so were the girls. Durng one of Ric’s walks Lizzie and Josie cuddled together and fell asleep. She kissed both their little cheeks and covered them with a blanket before looking back at Ric’s notes. Caroline felt his eyes on her and turned to look at him, locking her eyes with his and then…his question stunned her for a moment. And then with out thinking she threw her arms around him and hugged him tight. He cared? Was his offer to kill Stefan a proof that he still cared for her?. The statement made her heart swell and flutter with the hope that Ric hadn’t stop loving her, that he didn’t hate her. 

She pulled back to look at him, her eyes filling up with tears, “You would do something like that for me? I can’t say doing that didn’t cross my mind..”. She won’t say the urge to pierce a stake into Stefan’s chest didn’t cross her mind, specially when she woke up and figured out he had kidnapped her. But then the logical part of her brain kicked in, and she looked at him with fear, “No, no wait, no. You can’t kill him, if you do Damon and Valerie would come after you. I can’t let them hurt you. No…if someone will make sure Stefan stays away from us I’ll do it”. She knew Valerie could be vicious, specially when it came to Stefan, and Damon like it or not, despite all their troubles was his brother and would not take lightly to Ric killing him. No, she would not let any of those two lunatics to go after Ric.  

A part of him, a tiny part, felt real disappointment when she told him no. Because when she hugged him, he could feel, deep within his bones, all the time that they lost and all the work it would take to get them even close to where they had been before Stefan had barged into their lives. But maybe... maybe just getting there wasn’t as impossible as he’d thought when getting in the car to come back to the armory.

“Well, the thing about Damon coming after me is at least he’s predictable.” His gaze shifted to rest on their sleeping girls. Predictable, yes. Damon would go after them. Sure, there was a large chance that he wouldn’t actually hurt them. He wasn’t particularly known for going after children, after all. But he would undoubtedly use them as leverage. And Valerie... Ric feared she could be more ruthless and unforgiving than any vampire Alaric had ever known.

Alaric sighed and went to sit in one of the nearby chairs. It was a mistake, he knew. An object in motion, and all that. And now that he was no longer in motion, he’d be lucky to get up again.

“You should rest, Caroline,” Ric said softly. “I can keep watch while you do. Nobody will get near you.”

[alaricsaltxman]

Illusional Safety || Eloise and Alaric

[alaricsaltxman]

Eloise‌:

She chuckled at the handsome comment. “Quite.”

However, they didn’t stick to conversations about fictional heroines and their exes. She didn’t plan on talking about her mother or the deep connection she had felt was lost when she died. But, the fact that he reached and took her hand in some sign of support was benevolent.

“Either one would be a treat.” Kids going after their dreams was any parent and teachers hope. It’s what she was there for.

And she believed Alaric had the same hope too.

Thoughtful and could hold his liquor. Good taste. She nodded at the request of another drink. Honestly, El could sit here all night if the opportunity came to it.

“I found myself more drawn to the classics myself…or a good mystery. But not the ones where it’s always the maid.” She smirked. “I liked Emily Dickenson. Man, would I love to pick that woman’s brain.”

The life that he described seemed nice, normal. Funny how the life he was living now (that Eloise didn’t even know) was on the opposite end.

“Did you like Duke?”

“Oh gosh, uh. I lived in…three countries. Born and raised in South Africa, uh…we lived in Namibia for a year and a half, I think? Then the US. Hm, visited…Wales and Australia. Family. And uh, Berlin. I think I’ve been all across Europe when my mom was pregnant with me. The woman was a human atlas. But, I don’t suppose that counts.”

Eyes widen at trying to recall the strangest thing she’s ever seen. “Aw man, I’m the worst at thinking stories like that on the spot.” El laughed. “Gimme a second…” She looks down, eyebrows furrowing deep in the though. “I’m sure I’ve seen weirder, but the first thing that comes to mind I saw a cyclist get hit by a car, obviously having broken…something. The guy got up, looked to see his shoulder out of its socket. Pushed it back in place and then got back on his bike and rode off.” The memory made her giggle. “The driver didn’t know what to do with himself.” Her thumb pressed against her lips as she smiled, looking up as the waiter returned with their second round of drinks.

“Thank you.” Gladly taking the drink, the blonde took another sip, clearing her throat as her hand lifted and waited for herself to swallow. “I don’t know if that’s weird, but it was pretty fucking metal. Do people still say that? Metal? Sick? The bomb digitty. It’s gonna come back, just you wait. I’m gonna bring it back.”

“They might still say metal, but I sure as hell hadn’t expected you to drop a fucking in there.” He laughed heavily, leaning back in his booth. “Please. Don’t get me wrong. I love that you did. But man...” He laughed again. “Okay. Elementary teacher who can appreciate the fucking metal parts of life. I’m into it.”

As the laughter died away, Ric took a moment to just look at her. His gaze softened. “Duke was okay. Turns out it’s even more of a closed-off community than even my home town. But yeah. You know? It was alright. College life where I drank too much, played disc golf, tried to be cool by socially smoking. Only when I drank. Quit the smoking. Still drink too much. And shoved four years of higher education into six.” He smirked.

Alaric continued to keep the conversation going as much as possible. If it seemed like he hit on a sensitive subject, he moved on to something intentionally lighter. Eventually, though, their waiter returned, collecting the array of empty glasses.

“Hey guys, sorry. It’s last call. Can I get you anything else”

Ric looked at his watch. It was after 1am. “Um. Just the check, please.” His cheeks colored a little. “It seems I’ve kept you out all night, Miss.” Alaric smiled. He payed the full check when it came, then stood and offered out his hand. “Shall I take you home?”

[alaricsaltxman]

E‌loise:

It happened gradually and then all at once.

Everything yesterday, everything today, everything tomorrow.

Her chest rose and fell with each breath and for once in her life, it felt like she could feel each other. Recall and count each and every one.

It was exhilarating and disorienting and…other worldly.

But, even through all this, this chaos, he was here with her. He was here and he was all she could see or feel.

“Shhh…” She whispered, wrapping her arm around his neck as she brought him close. She could feel what he was feeling that he somehow failed her. And she wished she could take that away from him. Take away his pain, his guilt.

Her gaze moved to the door where she knew Damon and Z was. “Is…Stefan okay?” God, he must hate me. Damon must hate me. I intervened when I wasn’t supposed to. I just wanted to help.

El sat up straighter at the sound of his name even from her own mouth; shoulders pressing back. All at once she could see him in her mind. His face the moment he…

She sighed, emotions stirring inside of her as concern and fear were having a boxing match in her chest. The realization of what was supposed to happen next if she were to choose to. The choice was so simple when she was sitting in Z’s kitchen eating spaghetti and drinking wine. But now, it staring at her in the face. It wasn’t that easy.

“I wanna go home. Please.”

He left her side only for a moment, the span of a heartbeat. When he returned, he had a bag of her things in his hand and the door had been locked, the blinds closed. Carefully, he pulled the pointless tubes and monitoring patches from her, then helped her sit up.

Alaric was silent as he helped her dress and he kept his eyes on her shoulder or her hands. He couldn’t meet her eyes. When he tried, it was fleeting. This was his fault. He was supposed to protect her. Instead... And now, now all he could think about was removing Stefan’s head from his shoulders. And the possibility of doing such a thing couldn’t be ruled out completely. Not if El decided she didn’t want to be like this. Like him.

When she was dressed, Alaric took her by the hand. He stayed silent, alternating between fury and overwhelming grief. He opened the door to the other two staring, waiting. Alaric glowered. Only Zandra was smart enough to give him his space. Damon stepped closer.

“Ric... El...” Damon reached out to touch her but his hand was caught by a vice grip.

“It would be wise of you to return home and make sure your brother stays safe. Depending on the next three days, I may well change my mind on the matter.”

His anger and precarious control started to show in his eyes. Z looked from him to El. “I’l deal with your doctors and discharge. Go home.” She spoke only to Eloise. “Call me if you need anything. Anything, El.”She hoped Ric was as good of a guy as the girl always claimed. 

Gently, Ric squeezed Eloise’s hand and tugged her toward the exit. “Com on, Sunshine. Let’s get home to Morning. He misses you.”

[alaricsaltxman]

Andrew‌:

This is some sort of record, Andrew’s sure. He no longer keeps track of time the way he used to, when he was younger and thought that he would surely age and die like a human, but he’s nearly positive he’s never stayed around a single person so long and continued to tolerate their company. And Ric is even more than that - Andrew likes his company. Enough that they’ve kissed more. Enough that he’s taught Ric some of his boundaries with the intent of letting the touches continue.

He finds Alaric… calming. His energy mixes well with Andrew’s, and it helps keep him grounded and focused. He’s been attempting bigger magic lately, which has directed him to read the book that’s currently open on his lap. It’s old - maybe even very old - but it was written in the same century as Andrew’s birth, so it still feels more or less like new to him. The house is quiet - his ghosts are calm, Ric is writing, Andrew’s occasionally turning pages - like they’re putting on a front to battle the ravenous storm blowing in. 

So Alaric’s whisper snaps Andrew’s attention right to him. “Ric,” he says, setting his book aside because he thinks he’s going to have to go over there, and then lurching from his seat when Ric keeps talking. He makes it in time for Alaric to slump in the chair, and Andrew catches him and pushes him upright, feeling for a pulse immediately. “Fuck,” he snarls, eyes flicking to the blood and then back to Ric’s face, his eyes narrowing. He’s not a healer. Alaric’s dead. Fine. “Don’t move on yet,” he says, and then pushes away to grab what he needs for a short, simple spell - one that will pull Alaric’s spirit to him.

This death, he thinks as his conscious slowly takes form again, might be the quickest he’s ever experienced -- save for the time Damon got pissed and snapped his neck. There is pain, then there is darkness. And as light forms around the edges of his mind, he expects to find himself on the Other Side. Alone. Wandering around from some unfinished business bullshit.

But when his vision focuses, he’s standing in their home -- for that is what he has come to think of it. “Andrew,” he says quietly, blinking, feeling... not right. Not whole. Alaric glances at his body in the seat and swears under his breath. Do I even have breath? the thought occurs to him. Regardless. This wasn’t a heart attack. There is too much blood. This is something else. Something darker. Magical. “My phone is in my messenger bag,” he says, grateful that he can at least feel grounded to Andrew. “You need to call Damon. This has to do with something from Mystic Falls.” He moves closer to Andrew and reaches out as if to touch him. I had finally found you.

[alaricsaltxman]

yourlovingspy replied to your chat “Me: JFC Plec, give my son a break for once. Also me: So, to start...”

satan

trying to explain to my writing partner for that thread that i started it by killing him, and then reassuring her that everything is fine, went over real well. she totally believed me. 

[alaricsaltxman]

Me: JFC Plec, give my son a break for once.

Also me: So, to start this thread, I’m gonna go ahead and kill him. But it’s cool. We’ll figure out a way to bring him back.

[babyblueeyes1864]