E . M I C H A E L S O N

ELIJAH MIKAELSON ORIGINAL VAMPIRE & BROTHER VIEUX NOYÉS RPG

[courageouscami]

On Powdered Ground || C x E

When the call came from the front of the bar that there was someone here to see her, Cami didn’t know whom to expect. She’d asked her former boss to pick up a couple of shifts at Rousseau’s in order to tide her over money-wise, while she tried to decide whether she wanted to stay in New Orleans, or go back to New York. They’d struck that bargain two days ago though, and she’d only worked a handful of hours since then. It wasn’t long enough for word to get around that she was back on the job.

… Or so she thought.

Tossing down the towel, Cami walked out of the kitchen and into the bar area, scanning the customers for a familiar face. And that’s when she saw him; dressed to the nines, with an expectant gaze as his fingers tapping against the polished wood. “Oh… Nononono.” A sharp, single note of laughter left her lips as she rounded the counter quickly and came face to face with the handsome man. “ I’m not gonna do this, not with you.”

“But let me guess! Klaus found out that I know everything and he sent  y o u  - the ace in his deck, to try and tell me that I’ve got it all wrong. That it’s just some big misunderstanding, that he didn’t use me, and that somewhere! In that dark, twisted, spoiled Machiavellian mind of his!! He’s really the good guy in all this!!!” She hadn’t intended for the volume of her voice to raise with each word that punctured the air between them, but the mere sight of a Mikaelson coaxed her rage and indignation up like a tidal wave. 

Aware of the two-or-three heads that turned in their direction, Cami let out a steady exhale, hands balling into fists as she squeezed her eyes shut. One, two… 

Green eyes flickered open again and she fixed the elder Mikaelson with a calmer stare. “Look… I’m sorry. I know none of this is your fault- you… You seemed like a really decent guy last time we talked… And for the record, I like the suit thing. But you can tell Klaus-” To go to hell!! The voice in her mind protested viciously, and Cami closed her eyes again, trying to exorcise the pain before speaking. “… -That I’m really not interested.”

@the-noble-mikaelson

[the-noble-mikaelson]

Slowly, long fingers tapped Chopin’s Étude Op. 10 on the bar edge.  

— I said I dunno who’re talkin’ ‘bout!

A delicate web of blood vessels below the Original’s eyes rippled to the surface as the bartender vehemently denied knowledge of his predecessor. “Ms O’Connell!” Elijah roared, flattening both palms against the slick mahogany counter. This time his elucidation wasn’t drowned by the band’s shrill trumpets. The tweed-clad hipster took a step backward, awkwardly juggling a glass tumbler before it could crash to the floor. After spluttering for a moment, he disappeared through a STAFF ONLY door, much to the displeasure of Rousseau's beer-swilling regulars. 

Turning on his polished cap-toe boot, a small frown slowly spread across the vampire’s ravaged features. Months passed, yet most things remained unchanged in his absence; the French Quarter had danced, guileless, into the night without the Mikaelsons. Producing an ivory handkerchief with a rehearsed flourish, Elijah cleared the residue from the bar off his hands and waited. 

I’m not gonna do this, not with you.

“Camille…” He breathed, tension rolling from his tailored shoulders as the blonde emerged from the kitchen. Before he could say another word, her devastating tirade began. Elijah hummed, a gesture lost behind the crash of brass cymbals, as her verbal blows landed one after the other. Everything? Everything. How was that possible? Her confession threatened his unflinching posture, but he remained supernaturally still: a vessel for her ire.  

Sensing curious locals were abandoning the live entertainment in favour of the unfurling show, Elijah took a measured step toward the woman, shielding her from their wanton gaze. He almost reached out, but instead chose to observe closely as her green eyes screwed shut. When Cami continued, the pain her words carried reflected his own turmoil and dashed his enduring hope she would know Nik’s location.

“I am far from decent.” The Original warned after a brief pause, before he took her forearm and led her to the building’s antiquated office. Once the door sealed, the hum of jazz and hitched breathing enveloped the space. “We are all dark, twisted and spoiled. Did my brother neglect to inform you?” His own anger, a thin veil atop a bottomless pool of fear, simmered dangerously close to the surface. “Niklaus did not send me; I’m not an errand boy.” 

Sighing, Elijah unbuttoned his suit jacket before leaning on a stack of whisky crates; the vampire was unusually restless. “Have your heard from him?” Or from Hayley? Or Rebekah? 

[the-noble-mikaelson]

“The Ball is coming…” @the-noble-mikaelson​ ⚜

[the-noble-mikaelson]

“You are cordially invited...”  @the-noble-mikaelson ⚜

[archvillainofromance]

Poetry about poisoned apples from dead trees. Looks like someone is worried about impending daddyhood. Nonsense. Elijah is back.

[the-noble-mikaelson]

ELIJAH IS BACK

[the-noble-mikaelson]

“Elijah isn’t just any vampire, and he doesn’t break promises.”

— Rebekah.

[finnoconnor]

meaner than my demons | Elijah & Marcel

[the-noble-mikaelson]

marcelxthexking:

Marcel paced the floor of his compound, going over again and again who it could possibly be that moved Isaac’s body. He was also half in the bottle still trying to figure out where Sophie Deveraux was hiding and how she kept slipping from his grasp every time he got close to finding her. Everything was clouded, he couldn’t think straight. The constant flow of bourbon down his throat didn’t help. When anyone tried to mention it he nearly took off their head, quite literally.

Footsteps approached and he stilled his pacing to see what asshole wanted his attention now.

“Elijah Mikaelson.” He said his name so smoothly, though it was not the way he felt about the man in the least. “So nice of you to finally stop by and say hello. Unfortunately, I’m not in the mood for chatting.” Especially with that man. “You can try again another time.” Marcel raised a full glass to his lips and set it down, empty, on a nearby table.

@the-noble-mikaelson

Elijah stood before the looming entrance of his family’s coveted home, both hands tucked away in his bespoke suit. As his gaze traversed the length of its weathered oak, the rusty scent of liquor flooded his nose. Residents of the French Quarter were renowned for hosting celebrations of Gatsby proportions, but after recent events, it wasn’t unlikely a single man was responsible for the distillery fumes seeping onto Bourbon street. Before he crossed the threshold, Elijah paused to adjust a loose cufflink Davina had sweetly gifted him. He hesitated.

Sighing, he finally pushed the heavy door open and strode toward the courtyard. It smelt worse than Rousseau's on game night. The Claire witch’s passing had affected all those who knew her, but none so deeply as Marcellus. The loss of a child was inconsolable—he deserved time to grieve. It was for this reason the Mikaelson patriarch had chosen not to collect sooner. 

“Marcel.” Elijah replied curtly, noting the vampire’s disheveled appearance. “As you’re well aware,” he begun, moving through the centre of the room, “I do not chat.” Wiping the edge of a crystal tumbler with a handkerchief, he poured two glasses of single malt before sliding one toward the other man. Lifting the cup for a moment, a silent gesture for the fallen, the Original moved to stand against a wooden beam. “I’m aware you’re in possession of Katherine Argent. I am here because I’d like you to give her to me.” 

[the-noble-mikaelson]

The Devil Comes Here and Sighs || Elijah & Gia

[the-noble-mikaelson]

giatalwar:

The world had shifted. Not once. But twice. She’d been reeling from the first when the second struck and so she could hardly be blamed for not knowing exactly what it had been. Only knowing that something in the supernatural balance had shifted.

At any other moment she would have been in the mix. Concerned about the people she cared for, the people she was loyal to. She would have been desperate for information because not knowing what was happening could get her killed.

But she’d met a wolf in the bayou, and the wolf had said a name. She’d found out the truth. The truth that explained every single part of her life that had never quite fit together the right way. Her sister was one too. And her father. Werewolves. And in a state of shock she’d gone about her own routine. She honestly couldn’t have said for how long. A week? Two? By the time she’d felt anything like herself that second shift had happened and she hadn’t known what to do or where anyone was.

She’d found herself scared. The kind of scared she hadn’t been since she was very, very little. The kind of scared that made her angry because she wasn’t that weak little girl anymore.

Her phone was broken- she’d thrown in across her sister’s room right after she’d trashed the whole thing- and Elijah was nowhere to be found. There were murmurs of dead witches and a dead alpha and children. There were a lot of rumors.

She hadn’t known what else to do but to go and play.

She turned on her heel, the music cutting short with a sharp note. The people didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except that finally, thankfully, someone was there. Elijah was there.

“Where have you been?” she snapped back, her tone snippish but her entire demeanor vulnerable in a way she knew she was not normally. In a way she’d let him see a few times before but never often. “Where were you?” 

“—Hey mister, back off!” Elijah took the hand that gripped his tailored sleeve and twisted, glaring at the impudent human who moved in front of Gia. Before the perpetrator recoiled with a yelp, a collective gasp echoed through the crowd and they hurriedly dispersed, recognising the virtuoso’s set was over. Wringing his wrist, the young man muttered something unintelligible before fleeing with the rest of the Hawaiian-shirt clad flock.  

Taking a measured breath, the Original stepped forward. In fear of losing an extremity, few would dare respond to a question of his in such a manner, but Gia’s accusatory retort made it clear she wasn’t intimidated. Rather, her tone manifested a guilt which gripped his primeval heart like a vice. In a matter of seconds, his features softened—destined to be her pillar, he looked at her, properly looked at her. 

Meeting the young vampire’s gaze and swallowing, Elijah wanted to explain. Now alone, the temptation to tell her everything grew, threatening his expert control. He had searched for her; the apartment she shared with her sister looked like Frazier and Ali gone head-to-head in the living room, her phone went straight to voicemail and no one in the Quarter had seen or heard her play in weeks. Concern for her had plagued his thoughts and for once, he wished he’d been wrong.

“Gia...” He started, moving closer and lowering the polished instrument. “I’m sorry.” Elijah didn’t know yet what had happened, but they would fix it together. Sincerity laced his apology as his hand met her shoulder. “Care for a drink? He asked, tilting his head before glancing at his watch. “It’s after midday.” The pleasantries would act as a bandaid a little longer until they were somewhere quieter.  

[crcscnt-deactivated20181101]

The Tipping Point || Open

[the-noble-mikaelson]

niklaus-no-mans-son:

crcscnt:

The way Elijah rushed into the space between herself and Klaus, the wolf’s mouth nearly went agape. “He’s fine, Elijah. He hasn’t hurt me. No one’s hurt me. I’m physically fine.” Hayley said, carefully wrapping a hand around his forearm to get him to look at her rather than Klaus. “You needed to see me?” Hayley repeated quietly after the other seemed to settle some in front of her. In all the time she’d known him, the wolf couldn’t recall a time that he’d ever asked her for anything for himself. Whatever he’d gone through in the last few days had to be devastating. She nodded slowly, understanding that this apparently was not a conversation he wanted to have in front of his brother. “Later then.” The woman said quietly as she finished off the last of her liquor and set aside the empty glass next to Elijah’s. 

Hayley’s body fell into Elijah’s as he wrapped his arms around her. Sinking into his frame, the wolf buried her head into the crook of his shoulder and neck as her arms wound around his neck. Her eyes shut as she let someone get close to her for a moment, someone who she wasn’t going to lose. A moment later, her evergreen hues appeared from behind her lids as she looked down at Klaus over Elijah’s shoulder. Caught in one brother’s arms and holding the other’s gaze,  the alpha wasn’t sure what laid between them all. Elijah certainly didn’t seem to want her anywhere near Klaus, but the why behind that was still unknown to her. A few seconds later, the wolf returned to the flats of her feet as she nodded once up to Elijah. “Thank you.” Her words were soft, but her eyes held the conviction the spoken word couldn’t. Hands slipped down his chest before they wrapped back around her own waist as she moved to seat herself back on the edge of the couch adjacent from the younger Mikaelson.

“Klaus said you both could help me with Jennifer and Kate.” She explained then, gesturing to Klaus as she released a huff of hair from her lungs and pinned her gaze on the window soon after. The storm outside felt like it mirrored her insides right now. It was such chaos, but unlike nature, her chaos wasn’t beautiful. It only left destruction in its wake.

@niklaus-no-mans-son​ @the-noble-mikaelson​

Oh, he did so love defying expectation. Having Hayley defend him was quite delicious. She had no idea what hands she was playing into, and yet she wasn’t wrong, either. Served Elijah right for doubting him so. Content to play inconvenient observer, Klaus took note of their interactions. I needed to see you. No one’s hurt me. How dreadfully saccharine. He was sure he’d seen a similar scene in some or other Shakespearean tragedy. Though for someone who’s lover died mere hours ago, it did seem a touch soon to be playing star-crossed lovers. Then again, Elijah had always enjoyed the role of Romeo. Overly idealistic and fated to watch his love die in his arms. 

“Why later? We’re all friends here, are we not? What is there that my own brother cannot confide in me?” Klaus asked wide-eyed, the picture of devoted confidante, though that was the furthest thing from his mind now. Perhaps there was merit in seducing the wolf after all. He despised the thought that Elijah was plotting behind his back, and so soon after they faced their ancient nemesis. Surely a thousand years and counting had taught ‘Lijah his lesson. Klaus was always happy to reiterate should he be in need of a refresher. 

“Yes, brother. Let’s focus on what the woman really wants. Blood and vengeance. Perhaps some light warfare. Terribly romantic, isn’t it?” The last comment was, perhaps, overkill, but misery loved company and thus Klaus relished in reminding his brother that the object of his affections wanted him no more than Klaus’ wanted him. 

His decision to stay placed Hayley in irrefutable danger, more so than if he were to walk out and leave her alone with his brother now. She deserved someone to act when his presence inspired more harm than good—if he truly cared, he would disappear forever, end the push and pull game they’d mastered long ago. It had rules, this did not. When Hayley untangled her arms and stood down from the embrace, his wearied features softened. “Later,” he echoed, as her hands parted his chest. 

His version of the last twenty four hours, however bloody and arduous, ceased to matter in the span of a few moments. The conversation wasn’t adjourned for privacy’s sake; Niklaus knew it all already, but Esther, Freya, the harrowing ritual—thoughts which had ravaged the older brother’s resolve were reduced to trivialities in light of his friend’s loss. They could wait. Lamentably, Klaus interpreted his lack of elaboration as a conspiracy. 

Turning his gaze heavenward, annoyance simmered below the surface of Elijah’s exceptionally tailored three-piece and he briefly toyed with the thought of launching Niklaus into the alligator infested backwoods. “How insolent must you be?” He chided instead, turning on his leather sole to glare at the younger vampire. Without waiting for an answer, he moved to the opposite end of Hayley’s lounge, unbuttoning his jacket as he sat. Klaus was right about one thing; vengeance was a dish best served by the Mikaelsons. If common ground was to be found between the three, it would be under the bodies of those who dared cross them. 

Katherine Argent he was regrettably familiar with, he’d been waiting for the right time to hand her to the wolves, but Jennifer? Raising a brow, he ignored Klaus’ snide remark to look at Hayley. “The school teacher?” He asked incredulously. He doubted they were referring to the frail woman who sold tangerines at the French Quarter Market… “I made her acquaintance at Rousseau's. She did this?” Without hesitation he added, “How do we kill her?”

@crcscnt​ @niklaus-no-mans-son​

[the-noble-mikaelson]

The Devil Comes Here and Sighs || Elijah & Gia

Frowning, Elijah checked his phone again. Nothing. The Original had been weaving through stalls for the better part of an hour searching for the renegade musician. During the Vernal Equinox, day and night were equal foes, but as the summer months inched closer and the pavement began to scorch, the French Quarter stirred from its partial hibernation. The marketplace was brimming with fresh produce, simmering meats and eclectic fashions that spilled over the maze-like paths like brocade vines. “No, thank you.” He insisted curtly, holding up a hand at the portly vendor who shoved a tray of Creole soup directly beneath his nose. Elijah winced. Centuries practicing control became redundant as the thick russet liquid’s scent assaulted his senses. “Apologies,” he muttered, turning toward a quieter area of the galleria free of oysters and fried alligator.

Amongst the raucous activity, Elijah’s gaze steadily scanned the crowd. Although humans remained genially ignorant, New Orleans had suffered a great shift in a matter of hours. Children and men were dead, enemies, new and old, threatened their home and it’s leader was hidden in mourning. Elijah needed to know, while formulating a contingency plan, that those he cared for were safe. 

Gia, are you alright? Please, answer your ph— he begun texting, before his own screen faded to black. In the days following the ritual, he hadn’t stopped to charge the repellant thing. Striding toward Decatur Street, the muscles in his jaw clenched; she wasn’t here. When he reached his car, Elijah tucked the device into his coat pocket and sighed. Why the young vampire was so difficult to contact baffled him. Short of a locator spell, he was out of options. 

Pulling the Panamera’s handle, he suddenly heard it: the faint bow of a violin’s strings, carried by the cool Mississippi wind. Recognising the tone, Elijah moved at supernatural speed to where the petite brunette perched by the wharf. He’d been close, give or take a block. "Where have you been?” He scolded, interrupting her set much to the displeasure of transfixed tourists.   

@giatalwar​

[the-noble-mikaelson]

T H E   W A R   I S   C O M I N G  ⚜ 

@niklaus-no-mans-son @bexmikaclson @crcscnt @marcelxthexking @brother-atropos @courageouscami @littlestxwitch @fatherkieran

[bexmikaclson-deactivated2018072]

A Red Sun Rises ll The Originals

[the-noble-mikaelson]

niklaus-no-mans-son:

bexmikaclson:

   Rebekah met her brother’s dark stare with a rather bleak one of her own. The longer they exchanged glances, the greater her dread of telling him about their long lost sister became. As the confession lodged itself in her throat, Rebekah looked away. She cast her glance at her other brother, and though his usual stoic demeanor might fool anyone else into thinking otherwise, Rebekah could tell he was in pain. As her fingers laced together in front of her, the youngest Mikaelson waited in a dull sort of state for whoever to break the silence, but once Elijah did, her pulse fell right back into it’s quick rhythm from earlier that night.  

   “You what?”

   Rebekah’s chest felt as though it was sinking into itself. Once again their problems began and ended with family, and she didn’t even have the heart to complain about it. Her mother and her eldest sister contacting both of them on the night of the Harvest - It couldn’t be a coincidence. As more words filtered in one ear and out the other, Rebekah fell defeatedly into the seat across from Niklaus, and stared unappetizingly at her own warm drink, which existed in a stillness she couldn’t help but envy.

There went any attempt at taking this slow. Klaus downed the contents of his glass with a frustrated huff. Of course, Mummy Dearest would choose this moment to make an appearance. The thought that Henrik shared eternity with that crony bitch turned his stomach, but seemed fairly likely, especially seeing the vitriol Henrik so clearly felt for him now. He gave absolutely no credence to the thought that perhaps Henrik’s modified opinion of him was the result of centuries of tyranny and torment at his own hands. 

Henrik had visited him, Esther had visited Elijah, that left Rebekah… But who would seek her out? It seemed unlikely that had Finn made an appearance, he would’ve chosen Rebekah over Elijah, the closest to their eldest sibling in both age and temperament, loath as ‘Lijah was to admit it. Surely it hadn’t been Mikael… But no, unless they were favored with immense fortune, which was about as unlikely as Finn kissing the ground Klaus walked on, Mikael still walked the earth. The other two… they were dead. His mind flickered through various possibilities, each more unlikely than the last, and still, he said nothing. Henrik’s words to him bit into him like acid splattered across his skin, exposing the vulnerable viscera beneath, viscera he was in no state to reveal to his siblings. He wasn’t even ready to face it himself. They’d simply have to deal with his reticence. “Lucky for us the Harvest went exactly as planned, then,” Klaus drawled, voice empty of emotion. Lucky indeed. He wondered, as he so often refused to allow himself to do, whether it might not have been such a trial, the end of the Mikaelsons once and for all. 

Sitting on the edge of an antique Chesterfield, Elijah tucked one hand in his jacket pocket and nodded solemnly. The expression he assumed, one of impenetrable stoicism, had become the eldest’s default over the centuries. While his physical strength remained inimitable, rivalled only by his hybrid brother’s, cognitive thought was Elijah’s greatest asset. As he stared toward the fading dawn, the events of the evening prior replayed behind his eyes—every detail scrupulously analysed as black clouds crept up on the Plantation’s imposing lawn. He wasn't inclined to elaborate on Esther’s gratuitous appearance, their reunion had been trivial and short lived. 

Before he could offer his sister a word of comfort, Klaus’ brusque assertion captured his attention. The room filled with unspoken words and Elijah knew, better than most, his indifferent tone veiled darker truths. “Lucky for us, indeed.” He agreed curtly, glancing to his right. The ritual, although a resound failure, marked the end of an unstable power wreaking devastation across their city. Regardless of his fondness for Davina Claire, the safety of those he loved remained his sole priority.

What concerned him was the force which squandered their plan to save her. As diabolical as the late Mikaelson matriarch was, Esther wasn’t responsible and unfortunately, only a witch close to her calibre could strike down three Original vampires so efficiently and open a channel to the Other Side. Frowning, Elijah turned to Rebekah. If not their mother, others may have reached out to his siblings while they were unconscious. “Who did you see?” He asked suddenly, his features softening as his assumptive question landed heavily on his sister. Klaus would’ve deflected and Elijah needed to know who posed a threat against his family now.

@bexmikaclson​ @niklaus-no-mans-son​

[mikaelsonsource]

[the-noble-mikaelson]

“Hurting the ones we love, whether we mean to or not… That’s just what we do, isn’t it?” 

“It is who we are.”

— Elijah & Kol

[the-noble-mikaelson]

L’Appel Du Vide || Elijah & Allison Flashback

[the-noble-mikaelson]

silverargentvalkyrie:

Mystery loomed in the air. A taste of mischief with the potent burn of d a n g e r. The wind howled like a beast through the paper thin streets; yet, the playful chaos still boiled between the seams. Tourists crashed around her in waves. Don’t they know they’re in the eye of the storm? The rapture is coming. Most days, she made it a point to keep the main roads that laced the city’s spine; an artery of arbitrary twists and cuts. Scuffling feet and a chortle chorus of laughter dimmed in the distance, warning her that she was beginning to toe the fault lines of the good right into the ugly. Allison forfeited the comfort of the straits for the forewarned curves. Was it a game now looking for the lost faces of the people she loved in the shadows? 

Where are you Aunt Kate?

Monique? 

Two souls that had been pulled from her life. At least, Kate had done it on her own accord. Living her best life chasing the wind in hopes of wrangling it in her powerful hands. Monique hadn’t been afforded that same right. A short period and thick dash marked her memory. Both stark and ambiguous. They didn’t do justice to the whimsical sound of her laughter or her strange obsession with red M&Ms. Death didn’t do justice in dulling the ache of the living. It was what pushed people to search the unknown for the answers no one was willing to give. 

Allison turned down the street with a soft gait with nothing but the dying wind and her thoughts. Something was off. Everything was off. 

Don’t be afraid.. a soft command whispered in the night. Allison’s skin burned with caution. She squinted into the distance; a shadowy figure huddled against the brick. Her fingers curled around the familiar edge of the hilt of her dagger. You’re paranoid, they say…. you don’t need it, they say. She thought as she stepped closer. The ebbing feeling of destruction called to her soul. 

Allison sheathed her blade just behind the swell of her purse. “Step away from them.” She asserted. Allison knew that the slump in the man’s arms was lost but this would be the last one if she had her way.

The vampire raised a brow, appraising the petite brunette as her silhouette emerged from the murky shadows. She was either exceptionally valorous or uncommonly stupid to have ignored his warning—Elijah’s curiosity was piqued immediately. Rational thought returned when her steady voice rung out over the street, but hunger, like an impatient child, tugged the edges of his subconscious. Fortunately, the few drops of blood that had passed his lips were enough to lessen his pallor and temporarily subdue the murderous instinct Katherine Argent viciously elicited. “As you wish.” Elijah conceded after a bout of tense silence, raising his hands and taking a slow step back. 

With his steely gaze fixed on the teenager, the human fell heavily to knees. A sharp crack, followed by jolting scream sliced through the darkness. Wiping a drop of blood from the corner of his mouth, Elijah sighed. In the rufescent glow of the shop’s security lamp, it and the torn material by his chest appeared black. His disheveled appearance coupled with the momentary lapse of restraint truely created a vision worthy of his siblings’ infamy. 

In a flash, the Original suddenly appeared before the boy. Kneeling by a pool of blood that had dripped from the deep puncture wounds in his neck, Elijah's suited shoulders faced the girl as he whispered, "You completed your shift and went home. You will dispose of these clothes, shower and forget what happened this evening ever occurred.” A thousand years old, his compulsion was infrangible. Seconds later, after being fed his blood, the store clerk stood up and walked away. “See?” Elijah quipped, without turning. “He’s perfectly alright.” Each consonant was drawn out, his clear articulation delightfully condescending. The reassurance would soon be lost though—his audience was destined to become as clueless as the main act. 

[the-noble-mikaelson]

“All you have to do is remember.”

[crcscnt-deactivated20181101]

The Tipping Point || Open

[the-noble-mikaelson]

niklaus-no-mans-son:

crcscnt:

“Elijah?” Hayley repeated after Klaus before the sound of her door opening caught her attention. The wolf turned to face the entry way to find the missing original there with a questionable look on his face.The wolf stared back at him with a lifted brow as he asked to come in and what was wrong. He didn’t know Derek was dead. “Come in.” Her voice echoed across the room as the brunette turned her attention back onto Klaus with an arched brow, wondering if he was the reason that the other brother had managed to slip into the conversation as if they’d planned it. “D-Derek was murdered yesterday.” The wolf answered finally. The words visibly took away some of the strength she’d been stowing away throughout the conversation with Klaus. Standing upright, the brunette moved towards her kitchen, looking for another glass for Elijah; or maybe she was just trying to get herself out of the realization that Derek was gone and Elijah was here. 

Though, it’d never been said outright, Hayley and Elijah had an odd brand of tension festering between them. Some part of her considered that Derek probably wouldn’t want her seeking comfort in him. Her attention snapped back to her current task as she managed to get another glass and poured the last of her alcohol into it before moving to Elijah’s side to offer it out to him. Her evergreen hues tilted upwards to his on as she passed off the glass, curious as to why he was here if he wasn’t here to comfort her. He’d been missing the last few weeks again, undoubtedly continuing the push and pull game that he always did. 

“Klaus came by to talk.” She said, slowly becoming aware of the tension that was passing silently from Elijah towards his brother. The wolf felt like she was entering into a game she wasn’t aware of. Her head swiveled back and forth between the originals as she struggled to figure out why both of them had come here for her, but now seemed eclipsed with the presence of each other. “If you didn’t know about him, why are you here?” Hayley asked softly, deciding she’d make more headway with Elijah at this point.

@niklaus-no-mans-son​ @the-noble-mikaelson​

My, my, there certainly was tension broiling between these two, Klaus observed to himself wryly. And not the fun kind. Well, not fun for them anyway. He was quite enjoying himself. No doubt Elijah was “shitting his pants” as the saying went. He had good reason, of course. Klaus tended to look unfavorably upon Elijah’s paramours, but in his defense, Elijah had terrible taste in paramours. Hayley, on the other hand, had scorned his brother’s interest for a fellow werewolf, which made her infinitely more appealing in his book. A woman with a head on her shoulders, and a bottle of liquor in his hands. He toyed with the idea of seducing her, to piss off his elder brother, and to burn away the numbness that had taken over his heart since Ca— since Davina died, but even just the idea tasted sour on his tongue. Perhaps he’d think again on it at a later date. 

“Yes, Brother Mine, I came to pay my respects, actually. Surely you heard?” It was obvious that Elijah had not, indeed, heard about Derek Hale. He wondered if ‘Lijah would actually allow himself feel that glimmer of pleasure that Klaus knew was there, that he knew just as well would be ruthlessly squashed. His brother would be imminently more enjoyable if he let himself be selfish once in a while. Klaus supposed that would put a crimp in his preferred style of martyrdom though. “We’re either drinking in his memory, or drinking in the hopes that memory doesn’t plague us tonight.” He admitted that last bit with a somewhat black expression. There was much he wished to banish from his mind. No doubt, Hayley had just as burdened 

The invitation to enter her home had barely parted Hayley’s lips when Elijah appeared between her and the volatile hybrid in a blur. Time had not dulled his promise to the brunette across the room—she had his infrangible word he would always protect her. His caution was replaced by something infinitely darker now his brother perched languidly before them. Never again would he lose someone he cared for to Niklaus, who’s complacent smirk was seconds away from being rearranged when Hayley’s explanation reached his ears.

“—Derek was murdered yesterday.”

Turning abruptly, Elijah searched her slight figure for hidden injuries before matching her gaze. How did I miss this? He berated himself silently, his eyes returning to Klaus when Hayley disappeared to the adjacent room. He’d spent weeks immersed in ancient texts and grimoires in the hope of preventing an archaic sacrament and in that time, Hayley and her partner had faced irrevocable danger and he hadn’t stopped it. As she returned, the vampire glowered, acknowledging his brother’s petulant remark. Only hours ago they sat together with Rebekah debating the possibility their older sister was alive. It seemed, rather than disprove what he believed to be a vile hoax, Niklaus had discovered the Hale alpha’s fate. 

Without warning, the heavens opened and a clap of thunder interrupted the tense silence. Hayley’s query rung over the deluge. Turning his piercing stare toward her, Elijah tipped back the fiery drink and whispered, “I’m here because I needed to see you.” Placing his empty glass down and tucking his hand into his coat pocket, it was clear by the flickering light Niklaus already knew more than he’d ever hoped. Throwing him out now would do little to placate his fear, nor would it be fair on Hayley who hadn’t asked to play spectator to a Mikaelson showdown. Whatever twisted intentions he had for his friend, he would stop them, but tonight she deserved more. It was his foremost responsibility to keep those he loved safe and right now, they were all grieving. 

Covering the distance between them, Elijah suddenly wrapped his arms around the little wolf. “I’m so very sorry,” he murmured after a minute, holding the back of her neck and starring out at the storm. Apologising for her loss and for his failure to prevent it, he cared not what his brother thought in that moment. He would hold on until the pain ebbed, until she understood she wasn’t alone. Their dance was over and Elijah made a new vow—never again would he push her away.

@crcscnt @niklaus-no-mans-son

[originalsdaily]

[the-noble-mikaelson]

Elijah don’t fuck with my family Mikaelson.

[leighsroyalty]

[the-noble-mikaelson]

@crcscnt​

Centuries later, each of us is broken. You with your anger and paranoia. Me with my fear of abandonment. And poor Elijah; he dedicates himself to everyone but himself. We are the strongest creatures in the world and yet we are damaged beyond repair.

— Rebekah.