*𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞

Lilliana Salvatore, mother of 𝐃𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐧 and Stefan Salvatore // sire and devoted companion of 𝐄𝐥𝐢𝐣𝐚𝐡 𝐌𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐨𝐧.

[stuckinreversemode]

Monica Bellucci as Chantal Hearst UNDER SUSPICION (2000), dir. Stephen Hopkins

[salvatorcsse]

mindsadeadlydisease‌:

“I’m sorry you don’t seem to have experienced much kindness. It is the easiest thing to show though I know it’s a rare gift for those to possess in these times. I never understand why, if I’m being honest,” I whispered, and I couldn’t help but want to know more about this woman who seemed far too down on her luck. She was beautiful. From her attire, she was from money. Though that meant little when it came to suffering. Beautiful women from money went through far more than most people could handle. I’d witnessed that first hand. “No, perhaps you’re right. Though it did make you smile, so I’d say that was a success, even if it was questionable in manner.” It was so easy to smile in her presence. An air around her demanding it, and I seemed all too willing to grant her this. “Yes, you can thank me for anything you wish. Though it doesn’t mean that any of it is needed,” I hummed, pleased that she seemed almost excited by the news that I lived where she was headed, head bowing gently. “You’re more than welcome to visit any time. I do live with my siblings, however, so if you do decide to visit at any time, I apologise for anything they may say or do in advance. They’re… Well, they’re a handful,” I chuckled softly, eyes trailing over her face slowly, deciding there that I rather enjoyed watching her smile. The gesture was so infectious. “Thank you. There is no backstory of my name. It’s just mine…” I hummed before watching her disappear, before following that man a few blocks before taking my fill and leaving him to bleed out in an alley. I truly believed that the moment was over. That the beautiful Italian woman I’d met in an inn near my hometown would be little more than a distant but pleasant memory that would fade with time. You could imagine my surprise, then. When a mere few days later on returning home from a council meeting, that that very same woman was outside the mansions, leaning against the doors that lead into the courtyard, a soft frown finding it’s way to my brow. “Lilliana?” My voice was soft, concerned as I moved closer to her, lower to a crouch a few feet from her side, a hand moving to rest so lightly against her forearm, an attempt solely to try and capture her attention. It was undeniably her, though she looked exhausted. Far more worn than that night we’d met earlier in the week. “What are you doing outside at this hour? Do you have no sense of danger? This place is perhaps more dangerous than most at night,” I whispered, shaking my head slowly and offering her my hand for support. “Come. Let me help you inside. You’re not hurt, are you?”

There was a crick in my neck, an ache down my back, as my mind started to come up from beneath the veil of sleep... because of the sound of my name. In his voice. "Elijah," I whispered, though I was not even positive that he could make out the sound with how dry it was. It was then that I remembered I had not had much to drink either, these last few days. Was the last the broth from that horrible soup? It had been hard to stomach, but I managed. Forced myself as it was all I had had the money to eat apart from a few loaves of bread. My eyes went wide when I felt his touch, though, a rise going through my body when I feared perhaps I had imagined the man in my sleep and this was someone else... another stranger with dark intentions. 

My heart ceased its wild beat when it became clear that it was, indeed, Elijah, frowning softly at the obvious look of concern in his eyes. Perhaps I looked even more terrible than I felt—- far from a comforting thought. “M'sorry,” I managed to say, voice still heavy with sleep. "I know it's dangerous, but I had no place else to go. I did not know anyone else." I focused on his stare, even as the shame gripped the pit of my stomach. "If I could come in for a glass of water..." I said, lips seeming even drier than before we began speaking. I could feel the cracks starting to form on them. "... I promise I do not mean to overstay. But I thought perhaps you might know somewhere I could go to stay... permanentemente.”

I slumped against him much more than I would like to say, the red velvet of my dress much too dirty to be so close. I had been sleeping on the cobblestone, after all. Shame filled my eyes as I walked with him to the nearest lounge. "I don't... have a habit of seeking danger," I confessed to him softly. "I am a stranger to this country. Married off to a husband who beats me. Surely, trying to survive away from him, even as this... has to be better than waiting for the man to kill me." I frowned. "I am sorry. Some water... And I will leave you be. I cannot again ask for your kindness. This mess is my own. I’m not hurt—- well, my pride certainly is, but... any real pains I have are from before meeting you. The first time.”

[cherrylipssara1]

Monica Bellucci

[salvatorcsse]

mindsadeadlydisease‌:

“I have morals, there’s a difference,” I offered with a subtle smile, trying to keep it as warming and reassuring as I could, a slight tilt to my head, curious as she spoke of her night and wondering just what else she had been through this evening. After all, it wasn’t often you found a woman wandering into an inn alone at these hours. The world was becoming an increasingly more dangerous place. Especially when darkness crept in. “Well, I’m glad that at least I prevented you from shedding blood,” I mused softly, though there was more truth to that than I cared to admit. How long had it been since I fed, after all? “There is no need for you to thank me,” I chuckled softly when she once more insisted on showing me gratitude for acting how every other should have acted here tonight. Drawing in a slow breath, I was surprised to hear where she was planning to travel, my curiosities of the woman only seeming to grow the more she spoke with me, letting my gaze drop to my hands with a soft nod, my smile seeming to be far more pronounced now. “As it is, I happen to reside in New Orleans. If you ever pass through the French Quarter, be sure to drop by. It would be nice to find you arrived there in one piece and without bloodshed,” I offered light-heartedly, trying my best to keep the conversation light after everything that had happened. Sure the drama she’d already been subjected to was far more than enough. I gave pause when I felt her hand brush my own, eyes trailing from her fingers to those wonderfully deep eyes, finding myself unable to look away. “Lilliana… That’s a beautiful name,” I nodded softly, trying so hard to ignore that warmth of her touch burning against my skin, the feeling it sent through my chest. “Elijah,” I offered in return before she took her leave, a brief moment spent watching her ascent of the stairs before respectfully turning my gaze away. After all, I had business to take care of, and it was currently staggering out of the inn.

“If that is the only difference, then I have not known many men with morals, as you say,” the curve of my lip dipping further into a frown before I would return it to a polite smile. "However you would see yourself, Sir, you have shown kindness to me," I decided, nodding once as if that helped to set it further in the stone. "It has been a long time that I have felt it, but I won't say anymore, I think." My head bowed again, lower this time, eyes far more comfortable to be looking at our feet than to be meeting his face. Even as handsome as it was, I was... It was difficult not to feel shame, for so long it had been on my shoulders now. I would look up as he returned my teasing, though, finding that it was easier to smile again, placing a hand over my mouth even to stifle a small laugh. "We are being terrible. I do not think these things are for joking." Still, my tone was not scolding. It was... tasting warm and apple-sweet. Not unlike the voice of a girl I had known only seven years ago, spending one last Summer with la sua famiglia before finding herself in the divided states of these Americans. He had a nice laugh, too, I had decided. Reserved, but still very pleasant. “I will say thank you if that is my wish,” I told him, for the first time in a long time feeling a sense of pride blossom within my chest. A strange feeling when I had thought all of the petals there had withered from the vine. "È vero?" I asked, even excitedly, before I realized. "That is—- truly? How wonderful. We may yet see each other again after all." Again, I decided something else. I would very much like that. "It would be nice to know someone..." in such a strange place to me. In truth, I wanted to go home, but... I did not have the money for such things. Only enough to buy myself this night's lodging and some food along the way. But even that... it was hardly much.

“Grazie,” I said, quietly. And then, quieter still, "It was my grandmother's... A very wonderful person she was." I had little desire to move from his side, "Yours is beautiful, too, Elijah." In my room, I sat at the edge of the bed, too nervous to sleep at the thought of going to the station tomorrow. Without my children, without my very heart itself. Could I come back if I wrote when Damon was older? Would she still know me, children's minds were fickle at times? Worse yet. Would she feel hate for me? I cradled my head in my hands, sobbing into the night. Until the first signs of sunlight were peeking through the windows. Still, it seemed I was not finished crying for i miei figli. I would not stop until I was walking to the train, shown to the far back of the end car, the other passengers looking at me with a silent question I could read easily enough: why a woman whose dress seemed to be of money came to sit here with them. Resting my head against the cool window, still fogged with the frost of the morning, there was a pain in my chest once more... that the train had begun to move. That my son, my daughter were not here with me. I stayed in that seat, had hardly moved for the whole of the trip. As we arrived, I realized I had barely eaten, either. Again, I scoured for a nearby inn, spending my money on two helpings of soup before I realized I hadn't had money for much more tomorrow. The fear gripped me tight, realizing I had not thought enough of these things in my bid to be free.

I would spend a night in the inn, too. Another that I was lucky enough to have money for... but then it had gone dry. The next night was spent in the cold, perched under a lamp in the dark and unfamiliar streets of this place... and it was then that I thought of Elijah. The next day, I made it to the Quarter he spoke of, asking anyone who would bother to hear me where I might find him. Though I only had his first name, it seemed there was at least one promising answer given in exchange for the last thing of worth I had. A necklace of gold Giuseppe had given me. Such a thing held no meaning. When I came to the door, raised my fist to knock, it had started to become dark. Suddenly uncertain if I even should bother him. And at this hour. Sighing quietly, I did not rap on the door, instead leaning up against it and easing to the ground, too tired to stay awake for much longer even in such an uncomfortable way.

[fuckyeahdanielgillies]

Elijah x Hope (requested by anonymous)

[yourcanim-deactivated20191213]

[salvatorcsse]

mindsadeadlydisease‌:

I could feel every eye in the room following us now, of course they were all willing to turn in the opposite direction only moments before when the woman was pleading for anyone to take notice, but now there was the possibility of a confrontation, and how people enjoyed that. A fight only holding promise of a more entertaining night, and though my fingers twitches, so tempted to form those fists everyone seemed to be hoping for, I could not stoop to such a level. Not that the man didn’t deserve that one punch that would leave him seemingly unconscious on the inn’s floor until someone cared enough to realise his chest wasn’t moving with the breaths he should have been taking. Oh, he deserved it. Though if I’d killed a man with such a large audience, then this inn would only be one more place I could not return. And I rather enjoyed it here. Only when I was satisfied with the distance out between him and the woman - and the majority of the eyes had diverted in disappointment - did I turn to her, speak those words. And when she returned her answers, I couldn’t help but smile just a little at the accent heavy on her tongue but pretty. It suited her face, which also held a beauty that in my years I’d learned spelled trouble. “You don’t have to thank me. Stepping in was the right thing to do,” I stated simply, with a gentle bow of my head, offering her a warm and reassuring smile. “It was no trouble at all. I give you my word. I hope this incident hasn’t spoiled your evening. I’ll make sure no one else disturbs you. Try to put this incident to the back of your mind and enjoy your night. I’ll ensure it doesn’t happen again. At least, while I’m here…”

“You are very kind,” I said this, a soft voice of true gratitude. I smiled, too, though it was not as assuring I am sure as I would have hoped for. “This night has been... difficile per me. But much less now that you have rescued me, Sir. I thought I might be forced to stab him with a pin from my hair.” It was strange, to admit nearly committing a crime—- but it seemed given our greeting, he would understand the strange humor of it.

“My thanks to you,” I could not help but to be saying it again. Certamente, of the need to soothe’s my husband’s fragile ego. To avoid his il rigore. Tucking a lock of hair behind my ear, I said, “I will be leaving on the train tomorrow. If you will be in New Orleans... perhaps I might see you there?” As I walked passed him to reach the stairs, I was letting the touch of my hand linger against his own for just a moment longer than to be an accident, turning into him, lips much closer to his ear, “Lilliana.” A few moments later, I would climb the stairs... unable to shake the thoughts of him quite from my mind.

[elegantcouples]

[salvatorcsse]

mindsadeadlydisease‌:

Life had been quiet for far too long considering the disquiet that consistently attempted to worm its way in, almost getting used to the peace though that was always a dangerous moment. It’s the moment you took to breathe, the moment you let your guard down just for a second, and that’s when the unexpected plows into you like a ton of bricks. Hell, even my siblings seemed to be on their best behavior as of late, though I knew that definitely wouldn’t last. Klaus had to be planning something. He always was. It’s just a matter of waiting until that timer rang out and I’d be running around trying to fix whatever mess he’d left behind. But for now? Well, for now, I’d relish the freedom a little. Make the most of this moment without the hectic. Though, of course, I’d spoken far too soon.  See, trouble had a habit of following me wherever I ended up, and this was no different. I simply wanted to enjoy a quiet drink in an inn that served even better music than whiskey. The gentleman with a violin playing out a rather romantic but sad sounding number when I heard those words begin to filter through despite the scene unfolding from the opposite side of the room. The young woman clearly wanted none of the attention from the pig that was currently trying to give her all of his. And what grated me more than the man’s blatant disregard of her concerns, was the fact that not a soul here, men and women alike, bothered to speak on her behalf.  Letting loose a sigh as I let my now empty glass drop delicately back onto the bar, I moved across the room at a casual pace, a firm hand grasping the man’s as it made to move over the skirts of the woman’s dress, grip almost crushing, I could feel the bones vibrating beneath his skin, threatening to crack. “I believe the woman is in no mood for your attention,” I spoke low, eyes fixed on the man’s letting that compulsion come easily. I didn’t want to make a scene. I simply wanted to deescalate the situation so we could all continue on with our evening. The man, I’d deal with in a more subtle setting. I wouldn’t dare risk setting a man of his stature out into the world to take advantage of the next young woman that crossed his path. But here? There were witnesses. Here, I’d have to settle for subtlety. “Why don’t you go back to the bar and keep quiet for the rest of the night,” I spoke in an eery calm, releasing him and watching as he stumbled away, taking the seat I’d not long vacated. It was only then I turned to the woman, eyes catching hers as I kept a respectable distance between us, voice low enough that it wouldn’t be heard by the onlookers gossiping to themselves. “I know it’s a rather absurd question to ask given the situation, but are you alright?”

My hands clenched at my sides, determined to find the measure of strength to push him away. But—- he was bigger than even my husband had been, hands rough and wary. They felt like the hands of a man who would never respect a woman, and so why then should he respect me? 

In a moment of courage, my palm had connected with the apple of his cheek in a slap hard enough to echo over the flames crackling in the nearby hearth. Red blossomed there under his skin, but still, the man did not relent—- perhaps only seeming more enthusiastic with the wanderings of his hands... Worse, how tightly they would hold. One against my hip, the other cradled at the back of my neck, I felt the flutterings of panic when I thought of this pig to kiss me.

And then, at the very moment I was considering to spit across his hideous face, a stranger from the far end of the bar made his presence known. He was shorter than this man, seemed to be less, how you would say, physically imposing, but... to my great surprise, my attacker relinquished his hold. And seemingly with only a glance from this handsome stranger.

Sì, handsome, indeed, now that I would find him in a bit of light as I stepped out from that shadowy corner. “I cannot thank you enough,” I said after a moment’s pause to admire him quietly. “I hope I have not caused too much trouble for you. As you can see, it does seem to follow where I lead.” At that, I smiled, half playful and half-mournful. “I would thank you again,” I bowed my head politely, hoping my English was not so poor to him as my husband would say, and made my way quickly to the stairs. I was only too glad to distance myself from the large man who would make my skin crawl even as he sat alone, seeming not to notice me at all since only moments before.

I glad of it. Very glad.

[salvatorcsse]

@mindsadeadlydisease

​𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞... against God himself. This I know, more than any other truth. I have no need to know the precise face of God to feel the weight of his disappointment on my shoulders. This is my cross to bear.

A mother who would leave her children to the wolves. Could such a mortal sin ever be absolved? Could the pain I received by my husband’s hand—- ever hope to justify leaving my children to take my place. [ Damon most of all, my sweet girl. Should I have taken her from her bed as she slept? How would I get her onto the train with only one pass? And no money for food, no clothes but the ones on my back. Would she die of the cold? Would I? ]

The more I thought to my leaving her: the less the fear of my own death lingered. Of course, I was discouraged to leave Stefan as well. But I knew enough of Giuseppe's love for the boy to think he was safe. More so than Damon. His firstborn who, even as she possessed the most beautiful, celestial eyes—- a gift not from either of us it seems—- and raven hair, he would resent until her dying breath... for she was not the son he desired. He would not even allow me to fashion her a new name. He used it to brand her, instead. A mark of his disappointment that would always be hers even when the scars might fade.

So here I was at the furthest inn I could reach by foot, hiding my shame beneath a smile which was painted rather than natural. People were staring. I could feel it. Wondering why I should be here so late. And without a husband. I felt that it was a mistake even more as a stranger had taken hold of my arm, pushed me into some dimly lit corner even as I pleaded with my eyes for any other to intervene. Desperate enough to wish it the Devil himself.

“Let go,” I shivered when I felt his hands over my body, the touch as despicable as it was unwanted. “Please.” God help me. I beg you. I only wanted to be free. I only wanted—- to wish for life instead of death.

[stuckinreversemode]

The Matrix Reloaded (2003), dir. The Wachowskis