#the originals fan fiction

[fitzs-trained-monkey]

❄️To Run Afoul of Winter❄️

(Not my Gif.)

Request by: @unstablereader

Title: To Run Afoul of Winter

Word Count: 12,000

Warnings: Casual violence, some language, seasonal depression, segmented flashbacks.

Summary: In your human life you had been born a cripple - a frail, feeble little thing barely clinging to life. It was a miracle you survived long enough to join your siblings in becoming the first vampires. Bouts of what your family called Frost-Sickness kept you bed ridden each winter and despite your twin brother's efforts to cheer you up, life just hardly seemed worth living. When you turned, your body grew stronger, but so did your mental affliction. This is your story. || Mikaelson Family x sibling!reader || Here lies my Masterlist ||

A/N: This was written in like two days of an absolute writing frenzy. I know the request would have preferred Klaus to be the reader's twin but I just couldn't figure that out in my brain. Sorry! I hope you like it anyway. Also, one more thing. This fic is the first official fic of Cassie's Christmas at the Compound 2022 which I'll be kicking off later today as I was too lazy to do it on Dec. 1st. Thanks for being here and supporting my writing. Happy reading!

❄️STORY BEGINS BELOW❄️

Northern Virginia, Viking Colony: December 21st, 998 A.D.

"Sister?" You recognized the speaker instantly - you always had and you always would. Just as one always recognizes their own reflection, you could never forget the voice of your other half. 

You didn't say anything in reply, offering a soft hum instead. You didn't feel much like talking.

"We're lighting the bonfires," He continued. "Come along now before you miss all the fun!"

That wasn't really what he'd said all those years ago. No, your native language had long since been lost to time, morphing into a variety of tongues since then. You and your siblings were likely the only ones in the world who still knew it in its pure form - not that you spoke it anymore. You hadn't spoken your native language in so long, not even with each other. There was something lonely about it and the lot of you were already so alone.

Especially you. After all, what did you have besides dreams to keep you company in your most quiet estate? But that was beside the point.

"Really?" You lifted your head from the pile of skins that made up your bed. "They're starting so soon?" 

Standing in the doorway, the boy’s dark eyes widened in alarm that quickly faded into concern. "Y/N…" He began cautiously. "What day do you think it is?"

You had thought about that. Of course, you should have known something so trivial yet so vital to your livelihood but keeping track of the days seemed like such an exhausting chore. Akin to many things lately.

"Is it not eleven days to winter?" You asked, tilting your head. Then again, the village was lighting bonfires… but no, you couldn't have been Frost Sick for seventeen days! That was absurd.

Your twin's lips pressed into a thin line - they did that when he was worried and that was how you knew it must have been serious. For Kol son of Mikael was so rarely a worried soul.

The boy shook his head. "Y/N, it's the first day of Year's End - of bonfire season…" His voice thinned, close to breaking. "The harvest is plentiful, the moon is waning, and Odin smiles upon us. Can you not abate the sickness but one evening? Will you not join us?" He entreated you. "Will you not join me?" And oh how your twin had cherished the season so. Always first to cast his wish into the flames, always the first to dance, always the first to smile and laugh like the boy he had been so long, long ago. 

You didn't want to disappoint him, but you felt so weak. The chill of the evening air pricked at your skin and bones, threatening to sink into your very soul. "I-I don't-"

"Please, sister? Bring your blankets with you if you must, just please come celebrate?" Your brother begged. His eyes were once wide with innocence, love, concern, and yearning. His eyes didn't look like that anymore. For long since had darkness shrouded them, rendering their pine-bark depths as hollow and empty as this memory that you sought comfort in. The boy standing before you in your dream was naught but an illusion. Your twin had perished in the dark, alone and frightened, in years left to history long since forgotten. 

And the creation that had taken his place?

You weren't entirely sure who he belonged to. For certainly he was your sweet, fun-loving, intuitive brother often enough but from time to time the bloodlust consumed him entirely and that creature was not one you recognized. He was not your twin.

Just so with all your siblings, if you were honest. They all had faded away - shells of the family you knew and adored. Animosity had grown between each of them. All except you. 

"Y/N?" His voice called to you again. Oh, how you missed the innocence in it. 

You lifted your head, clutching your blankets as you stood on frail, trembling, legs. "Coming! I'm coming, brother." 

The boy grinned and raced out the door. You followed him eagerly despite your limp. Passing under the arched doorway of your family's hovel, you found the scene outside blurred and out of focus. You blinked and your vision sharpened, although now you were no longer standing just outside your home. 

Northern Virginia, Viking Colony: October 31st, 988 A.D.

You were kneeling on a patch of frost-covered grass in front of a pile of wood stacked haphazardly. Kol knelt beside you and the sky overhead was bleak and gray.

"Show me again, brother," You demanded, buzzing with excitement, though you couldn't quite remember what for. "Please show me it again? I want to see."

"Y/N, you know father hates it," He said, frowning.

"Father isn't here and I won't tell him," You argued. "Please, Kol?"

"I don't know…"

Your voice quieted. "You're the only one that can help me," You insisted. "The Frost Sickness tugs at the edges of my mind even now. Your light is the only thing that keeps it at bay."

"Alright," He conceded with a sigh. "Just don't let it touch the firewood."

You nodded eagerly and held out your hands. Kol rubbed his own together vigorously before moving them close to his lips. 

"Incendia," He whispered. A spark burst in the air before his lips with a splitting crack and before long, bright orange flames leaped between his fingers. Some in your village whispered that Kol was cursed but you didn't believe them. Your brother was blessed by Frigga with the gift that was magic and he was brilliant in his craft. The boy grinned and glanced up at you. His eyes seemed lighter then, like a sunset. "Ready?" 

"Yes," You breathed, still in awe of your brother's magic. This was not the first you'd seen of it but it still amazed you all the same. "Yes, I'm ready."

Kol offered you another sweet smile. Shuffling a little closer, he gathered the fire in his hands before tilting them and letting it pour into your waiting palms. The flames flickered and danced, licking your fingers as they sent wave after wave of warmth radiating through your body and soul. You sighed. The magical fire burned away the creepings of your Frost Sickness, postponing it a little longer. You were lucky to have a twin like Kol for only the flames of his witchcraft could assist you with your illness.

You memorized his face then, the innocent, joyous, impishly youthful smile on his cheeks and in his eyes cast in the warm glow of the fire held in your palms. He hadn't smiled like that in so long. So, so long.

Northern Virginia, Viking Colony: March 31st, 989 A.D.

Left to your reverie only a moment, the scene before you shifted once again. It was spring, glorious spring all around you. The flowers were in bloom, the trees burst with leaves, and you were once again awake - wide awake. Crossing a bubbling brook with the confident leaps of a small child, undeterred by your bad leg, you admired the beauty of the moss-covered stones you employed as your bridge before continuing on to explore the forest. 

Along with having been born frail, you had also been born with a bad leg. The bones were a little misshapen and it couldn't support your weight. Ayana - the village's healer and foremost practitioner of magic, had fashioned you a splint to help you walk, and you had since refused to let it slow you down. Niklaus had carved for you a walking stick for balance and though you couldn't run, you could skip with the proficiency of a stone on a smooth lake. You danced between the trees as you chased a beautiful butterfly through the brush when a nearby shout brought you to a swift halt.

"Y/N!" That was the voice of your eldest brother, Finn. He didn't sound very pleased. Although, then again, Finn was rather easy to upset. 

"Be gentle, Finn." A different voice chastened. Elijah. "Y/N! Come out, little one!"

This, of course, only prompted you to duck behind a tree to hide as the footsteps of your brothers drew ever nearer. 

"Y/N!" Finn called again, attempting to sound a little less stern. "I swear, that child and her tvíburi are creations of Loki."

"You had best hope not," Elijah advised. "If either of them grow to be any more clever or cunning, then I fear we'll never be able to find them." 

You couldn't help the giggle that left your lips at his statement as you were rather flattered by his praise. Their footsteps began to fade a moment later and you peered out from your hiding spot to check.

"GOTCHA!" Without warning, two arms wrapped around you from behind and hoisted you into the air. You shrieked in surprise but soon began to laugh as you realized that it was Elijah who had captured you. He smiled warmly. "Hello, little one."

"How did you find me?" You wined, pouting a little. 

"Simple," Finn supplied. "We merely listened for the sound of complete disobedience and followed that."

Elijah sighed. "Finn…"

"No, brother. She needs to be taught," Finn said. He rounded on you again. "What were you thinking, running off on your own like that? Do you have any idea what could have happened? You could have gotten lost! You could have died!"

"B-but I was chasing pretty butterfly," You whimpered, beginning to tear up. 

"I don't care what you were doing!" Finn shouted. "Do you know what a wolf would do if it found you? Or Odin forbid - a bear? It would have-"

"Enough, Finn!" Elijah demanded. "That's enough!"

"Is it?" Your eldest brother argued. "Is she too young to understand the danger her frailty will bring to all of us? You know how mother worries about her. Tell me, Elijah - look at her! Is she not so very light to carry?"

"She is but a child," Elijah sighed. He knew Finn spoke the truth. You had been born small. Even now, you were hardly more than half the weight of your twin brother. 

"Rebekah is younger and yet she is heartier still and more stable on her feet." Finn stepped closer, lowering his voice. "You and Niklaus were always so fond of her. But how long do you really think Y/N will last - afflicted as she is? By tradition, Father should have left her to the gods."

You did not understand his words at the time. But no matter what Finn said, you weren't afraid. Finn liked to worry - he never wanted you to do anything - but Elijah, you knew, would always protect you. Nothing bad would ever happen as long as Elijah was there. And even as a child, you knew he always would be.

Elijah stood up a little straighter. "He tried if you recall. He left her in the woods all the night long but the forest would not take her. A fox and vixen stood guard over her until morning; small as she is, they deemed her worthy."

Finn didn't reply, or if he did, you didn't hear. You were far too busy watching a robin make its nest not far away until Elijah spoke to you again.

"Y/N, might you happen to know where your troublesome tvíburi is?"

"Noooooooo…." You lied. You absolutely knew where he was - you always did.

"I think you do," Elijah coaxed, poking you in the ribs. Giggling, you shook your head.

"I don't, though."

"He's probably attempting to burn one of our neighbor's homes to the ground," Finn suggested with a sigh.

Elijah sent you a questioning look and you shook your head again. 

"No!"

"Or torturing some innocent animal…"

"No, we're doing that tomorrow."

"Or hiding everyone's left boot…"

You giggled. Now, that was a fond, fond memory. It took Sven two days to find his boot and by that time he already had a foot full of splinters.

"Or putting worms in someone's pillow - likely mine…"

"Couldn't find any worms - they're still sleeping," You replied with a shrug.

"Or-"

"Alright! I'll tell you!" You finally huffed, rolling your eyes. "But don't tell Father."

"You have my word," Elijah promised before Finn could say anything. Your eldest brother had some annoying traits but he wouldn't make a liar out of Elijah. 

"Kol is making protection wards for Henrick and for everyone so bad things won't happen to us," You informed them in a whisper - this was a secret after all.

"Why is he making them, little sister?" Elijah wondered. 

You just shrugged. "I know not. He said something about having a bad dream last night."

"I see, and what's that little miscreant got you doing?" Finn asked. 

"Picking berries," You answered simply. Elijah let you down and you took each brother by the hand as they began walking back towards the village. 

"Berries? Why?" 

"Snacks!" You chirped. Then you tugged on their hands. "Swing me!" You commanded, bringing your knees up. Finn rolled his eyes but both your siblings caved to your demands, swinging you back and forth between them as they walked you home.

Northern Virginia, Viking Colony: November 10th 1000 A.D.

When the world shifted yet again, you were met with a familiar blackness. The furs of your bed brushed over your skin and the midsummer night was warm and wet though the cool draft breezing through the cave made it rather pleasant. Light from the full moon shone down through a crack in the ceiling overhead but you didn't mind - you liked the nightlight. The rustling of blankets sounded on your right and before long, the dark outline of one of your siblings was creeping its way toward the mouth of the cave. You sat up and pursued as silently as you could in spite of your limp. Though you tried your best, the walking stick Nik had carved for you clacked against the stone floor, alerting whoever was sneaking out to your presence. Still, you waited until you were out of earshot of the rest of your family to speak up.

"Where are you going?" You hissed into the dark, unsure who was doing the sneaking. The figure froze.

"Go back to sleep, Y/N," Niklaus's voice whispered back.

You stepped closer. "Nik? What are you up to?"

"Nothing." His response was too quick to be the truth. "Don't worry about it. Just return to your dreams."

"But I do worry about you, Niklaus," You said. "I know you admire the wolves - I can feel your curiosity." You had always been in tune with the thoughts and emotions of those around you. Sensing them came rather naturally to you, just as spellcasting came so easily to Kol. Somehow Niklaus's emotions had always been the most vibrant of all your siblings and his thoughts the easiest to read. It was probably why the two of you were so close.

"Your magic is growing stronger then?" Nik tried to change the subject but you didn't fall for it, knowing what weighed on his mind. You stepped closer, tilting your head.

"You feel like somehow… you belong with them… as if you're meant to be up there running with the pack." Your brows furrowed and your mouth twisted into a frown. Your eyes grew unfocused and your voice took on a droning quality. "Running. Yes, running. Running underneath the moon and the stars but not the sun. Running. Yes, running on and on forever… always and forever. Running. Running for eternity. Running wild, running scared, running hungry, running blind. Running cursed. Yes, we'll all be running cursed…"

"Y/N?" Niklaus jabbed your shoulder. When that didn't stop your mumbling, he took hold of your shoulders and gave you a firm shake. "Y/N, snap out of it!"

You blinked, shaking your head. Then you looked up. It wasn't odd for you to have visions. You had quite a few of them while your brother had only ever received maybe one or two. Most were rather mundane or just complete rubbish but every so often you would be privy to a glimpse into the future. This night had been one such time, though you hadn't realized the true extent of your visions' significance. You remembered this night. Yes, you remembered it all too well. It was but one year to the day that your mother cursed you all.

"Niklaus, do you not love me?" You asked suddenly, feeling tears prick your eyes.

"What? Of course, I do!" He insisted. "Why ask such a ridiculous question?"

"Because you feel like you belong with them - with the wolves," You explained. "But I don't want you to be with them. I want you to be here with me… and Finn, and Elijah, and Kol, and Rebekah, and Henrick. I don't want you to go and replace me."

Niklaus smiled fondly, reaching out to ruffle your hair. "Oh, sweet little sister… How could I ever replace you?"

"With a dog," You muttered.

He shook his head. "A dog can't find the perfect flowers to make paint out of - not like you can. I love you, Y/N. I'll always love you."

"Then don't sneak out to see the wolves," You pleaded. "They hurt someone tomorrow… or yesterday… I don't know. Can't remember the order. " The events were all jumbled up in your head. Past, present, and future all existed simultaneously and you had no way to distinguish which one was which.

"Did you have a vision?" He demanded. You nodded.

"Things change when you go," You told him. "Wait a little longer? I want one more bonfire season before this era comes to an end."

It wasn’t his fault that he didn’t understand what your words or your prophecy had meant - you hardly understood them yourself most times and the rest of your siblings stopped trying. Not that it mattered anymore. You no longer had visions, no longer cast spells nor drew wards. It wasn’t long after that night that everything fell apart. Henrick died and your mother cursed your family and everything - everyone - fell apart. 

Finn lost himself to self-loathing. He became as winter itself - cold and distant. Though you tried to reconnect with him, it seemed to you as though that was the last thing he wanted. 

Outskirts of Rome, Italy: May, 18th 1156

It was summer if your recollection served - your recollection of the last moments you spent alone with him before Niklaus decided he was a danger to himself and the rest of you, that was. You had sought him out that afternoon. You were the only one to do so as the rest of your siblings had given up attempting to include him.

But that wasn’t you. 

It was how you and your twin were different. Kol had always been a bit of a flake, however, he was an extremely prudent one, to his credit. He would come at a problem a thousand different ways, but would never try the same solution twice. On the other hand, you liked things simple and direct and knew that sometimes a problem requires tenacity. You just hadn’t been ready to let go of Finn. Abrasive as he was, you loved him.

“Do you mind if I join you, brother?” You asked, having finally found him. He sat leaning against the base of a mighty oak tree at the edge of a summer meadow. The grass was bright green and the sky a brilliant blue - it was your favorite time of the year.

Finn glanced up, his expression unguarded as it was, displaying a lost sort of melancholy. “I suppose you may,” He said. You smiled and sat down beside him, leaning your head on his shoulder. You were still so small for your age. Despite having turned eighteen merely a week before Henrick died, your appearance could pass for that of a fifteen-year-old. You looked more like Henrick’s twin than Kol’s.

“What are you doing all the way out here?” You wondered, watching the white puffy clouds drift overhead.

Finn shrugged. “Just… sitting quietly,” He replied. He did this quite often, though you were more inclined to think of it as wallowing in self-pity. Not that you would say that out loud. The last thing Finn needed was more mockery, though your siblings didn’t seem to see that. Finn was a bit more like you it seemed. Your family and village had always called it Frost-Sickness, though as the world developed and greater advancements were made in the realm of medicine, you came to discover in later years that your condition was labeled Seasonal Depression. It was a sickness of the mind rather than the body and saw to it that your moods were more heavily influenced by the weather than those of other people. 

Thus, Finn you figured, must have been a bit like you. Except the rain cloud which hovered over his head was not quite as severe and certainly less predictable. Though it didn’t leave him bedridden as it did you, his bouts of sadness came and went as they pleased and when they came they drew him further and further away from his siblings.

“What about you?” Finn asked, fiddling with a branch he’d picked up off the ground. “Why are you here, sister?”

You shrugged. “Kol can be really loud sometimes,” You said simply. 

Finn hummed his agreement, nodding. “That he can.”

“There are days when I find it impressive,” you admitted, voice pensive. “but today is not one of those days.” You planned to continue adding elements to your reasoning until you won a laugh from him. You were the only one of your siblings who could make Finn laugh. “And then Niklaus joins him and you know how those two get when they drink together so may God have mercy on that poor, poor, tavern -” Finn huffed, rolling his eyes. “Then, bloody hell, I don’t know whose idea it was to invent Pub Archery but let's hope it doesn’t catch on, otherwise Italy will have gained a new sport and we’ll have to listen to those two gloat about it for the rest of the century.”

“Pub Archery?” Your brother questioned, raising a brow.

You nodded. “Indeed.”

“Dare I ask?”

“Well, the rules are dubious at best but from what I can tell, a mug of ale is placed on a table halfway between the wall and wherever the player is standing. A bow and an arrow with a mid-sized hook affixed to the shaft are given to whoever is currently in play. Apparently, Kol has officially dubbed this position “the Arse in Question” - he was very clear about that when explaining the game to me.” You shrugged and continued. “Anyway, the Arse in Question then attempts to send the arrow through the handle of the mug, while doing their best to ensure that the fish hook catches on the handle as the arrow passes through it. Their goal is to lodge the arrow in the wall with the mug of ale still on it. If the mug is still somewhat full by the time the Arse in Question can make his or her way over to it then they are awarded the proper number of points and they have to drink whatever is left. Three points for a full pint, two points for half-full, and one point for a quarter pint. Now if the mug falls off, or the arrow fails to remain in the wall, then the Arse in Question loses five points.”

Finn frowned, slightly confused. “And what if the… bowman were to miss the mug on the table completely?”

“Well, in that case, he takes a shot.”

Your brother rolled his eyes. “When does this game - if it can be called that - end?”

“I haven’t the faintest,” You shrugged, shaking your head. “Though, so far I think it may be with whoever is the first to pass out. According to Rebekah, there’s a fifteen-point penalty for fainting, so I’d assume at least competitive play ends after that. I didn’t stick around long enough to inquire further. I value my eyes.”

“Smart decision,” He said with an approving nod. “And does Elijah know of this latest depraved scheme?”

You sent him a look. “Elijah’s the self-appointed referee,” You deadpanned. Your second eldest brother liked to believe he had some maturity and admittedly he had more than you, Kol, Nik, or Bekah, but it really wasn’t much.

“He approves?” Your bother asked in slight disbelief. 

“Elijah’s responsibility is a facade. What is a wall of stone to outsiders, we know to be a bride’s veil,” You said sagely, nodding solemnly. 

And finally, finally, Finn laughed. It had been years since you had heard him laugh. It was a soft chuckle, not much at all, but it was there and you knew better than most that sometimes that’s the best someone can give.

“You make a fine point, little one,” Finn mused, patting your hand. “Would you like me to talk some sense into them?” 

You snorted. “Right. Good luck with that, mikill göltur.” You gestured lazily with a few reeds you had plucked and were now playing with absently. “By all means, go right ahead; although, I must warn you that the aroma of that establishment is a fine shade of brown.”

Your eldest brother grimaced at your description. “I see. In that case, I think I’ll leave Elijah to deal with them.” He leaned back against the tree, folding his arms behind his head. 

“You should go see that Sage woman again,” You prompted, entirely out of the blue. It amused you to see the blush that covered your eldest brother’s cheeks at your suggestion. He was fond of her.

“W-what on earth makes you say that?” He sputtered, casting his gaze pointedly to the sky.

“She makes you happy,” You answered, plain and simple. That was who you were, plain and simple. “I like seeing my siblings happy - all of them.” With that, you tossed your creation - a corsage woven from wildflowers - into his lap and hopped to your feet. “Now go see her!” You commanded, nudging his knee with your foot.

He sat up. “Perhaps I will.” 

“Good!” You turned and began to skip away.

“But only if you talk to that blacksmith lad!” Finn called after you. You froze. Whipping around on your heel, you gaped, staring at him with wide E/C eyes. He just shrugged, smug as could be. 

That was the last you saw of your eldest brother. Nik put a dagger in his heart and then there were five.

Now, Elijah on the other hand, was not Finn. They were radically different and Elijah got lost in his own way.

See, Elijah was hungry and he killed Tatia. He killed his love and the grief consumed him. He became so obsessed with somehow making it right as if keeping his hands clean from then on could somehow remove the stain of her blood. You knew what he’d done and you didn’t blame him but through the next hundred years and on it almost seemed to you as though he forgot. It was odd, but you chose not to bring it up; perhaps that was a mistake on your part. So it was that instead of drawing away from you and your siblings, Elijah drew closer. He viewed it as his responsibility to watch over the family and keep everyone together. What Elijah could not see, however, was that some things are simply fated to fall apart.

Somewhere Off the Coast of Cadiz, Spain: June 22nd, 1730

Five hundred years after you spoke to Finn beneath that tree in Italy, you found yourself in front of Elijah in the somewhat damp confines of a cargo hold in a ship just off the coast of Cadiz, Spain. Behind him stood two caskets and inside one of them was your twin brother, immobilized and in excruciating agony. You could practically feel the dagger in your own chest yet Elijah refused to let you free him. 

“Move aside, Elijah!”

“I’ve said no and my answer is final,” Your brother repeated. “Kol will remain as he is until such a time as Father is half the world behind us. Only then will we risk reviving him.”

“That’s not fair!” You argued.

“Oh I do believe it is,” He countered, crossing his arms and looking down at you. He was much taller than you were. “It was Kol’s mass slaughter in Cadiz that led Father right to us and clearly nothing you or I have said to him has made an impact.This was never my first course of action, Y/N. But until you should devise some other more prudent method to disway your brother from devouring the entire town, I’m afraid this is how things must be. He. Must. Learn. Control.”

You rolled your eyes and huffed, long since tired of his condemnations and hypocrisy - intentional or not. “He’s our brother and for the millionth time, Elijah: That’s not the problem! It’s not his fault if he can’t control it, because you lot have never given him a reason to!”

“That is preposterous and you know it,” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Do I?” You demanded. “It’s always you, Rebekah, and Niklaus. That Always and Forever pact - that was you three. It wasn’t us! I knew that you would make it before you did and yet nether of us were a part of it! Whenever the three of you do something, you never think to invite him along. The few times you and Nik actually ask all of us to vote on a decision, you don’t give our opinions half the weight you give to Rebekah’s.” 

Elijah frowned and held up a hand to stop you. “That is not remotely true. I view each-”

“No, you don’t,” You hissed, fighting the tears pooling in your eyes. “You hardly even notice us when we’re in the room with you, unless one of us is shouting and if either of us leaves, you might as well forget we exist entirely! I remember one time when Kol just up and left - said he was going to catch one of the bloody crusades.” You laughed but there wasn’t much humor in it. “He was gone for five and a half months and you didn’t even notice!”

“I did notice, actually.”

You glared at him. “I distinctly recall you commenting about how quiet it was one morning, after he’d been away three months. I told you he left. You were surprised and then you went right back to your book; you didn’t even ask where he’d gone!”

“I suppose I would have if such a question mattered, but unfortunately, Kol can look after himself,” Elijah said in disdain. You were aware that Elijah had carried a grudge towards Kol since the day the two of you were born. Though he’d never said it out loud, he’d always thought of your twin as a leach because he’d been born strong and you had been so frail. “He excels at it.”

“Because you don’t care to do the job!” You exclaimed. “You discount our opinions and refuse to see either of us as anything more than children. I mean, you hardly so much as look at me unless I’m attempting something you deem too dangerous. I hardly dare speak to a boy, even if he’s naught but a servant, lest I ensure that Niklaus shall orchestrate some awful accident to befall the poor lad. Both me and Kol - you see us only as another burden you bear and you ignore any attempt we make to change your mind.”

Aside from Kol, all your siblings had always seen you as weak and in need of protection - Elijah most of all. His eyes narrowed and he looked over you with scrutiny. 

“Always so quick to defend him,” He huffed. “If what you claim is true, then how have you mastered the control he so completely lacks?”

“It’s different for me,” You insisted. “My magic was different.”

“How was it different?” 

You bit your lip, mulling over your answer. You wanted to get this right, wanted to make him understand that the bloodthirsty monster he condemned was merely a prison and that your sweet, bubbly twin brother was locked somewhere deep inside. 

“My magic was more constant, I think,” You started, speaking slowly. “You must understand brother, magic wasn’t just something Kol and I did; it was something we were, it was a part of us, but I think we each felt it in a different way. He was so good at spell casting - at manifesting his very will into reality. I was always better at seeing, sensing, feeling, and just knowing the thoughts and emotions of everyone - everything - around me. My magic was a blanket, a quiet comforting reassurance that I wasn’t alone and that nature was looking out for me.” That loss still weighed on your soul every single day. You sighed but continued anyway, “But for Kol I think it was more like water. He’s always hated feeling helpless, and for him, I think magic meant that there was always something he could do to fight back.”

“Fight back?” He questioned. Your expression grew grim, eyes darkening. 

“Against Father,” You said. “You know Father hated Niklaus most but Kol was always the next he would hit. Magic wasn’t a luxury for Kol - it was his survival. When he first tapped into it, our brother knocked Mikael flat on his ass - Kol earned Father’s respect. For him magic was a thrill, a lightning excitement, power, and reassurance, both a sword and a shield, and a bonfire wish - it was everything. It was like water - and like water, its absence consumes him. He tells me often now that it’s much too quiet. He can’t stand the silence - the vulnerability maddens him. He didn’t mean to bring Mikael upon us… He fears father more than you know.”

“And you do not?” Elijah challenged, regarding you strangely. Again you thought about your answer. 

“No,” You decided after a moment. Your brother frowned, shaking his head. 

“You are not such a fool as that, lítil víx,” He said with a disapproving gaze. He called you little vixen - the fox’s, smaller, swifter, and wiser counterpart. 

He turned to leave the cargo hold, knowing you would not disobey him, but you whipped around and caught his sleeve.

“I do not fear him as much as I once did,” You amended, looking your brother dead in the eyes. “Father fears death, he always has though I did not see it then. Knowing that what he fears is so common, so natural, and so inevitable a thing, my fear of him has dwindled. I think I more pity him now than I fear him. For how very sad it is that he hunts us with no other purpose than to destroy that which reared into being. How very sad it is that he disregards the exuberant beauty all around him in favor of his hatred. How very sad indeed.”

Your second eldest brother blinked, taking a moment to completely process what you’d said. “I suppose you’re right,” He said slowly, nodding. Then he frowned. “Do you not fear death, Y/N?”

You smiled softly. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that.” You glanced towards the coffin that would imprison your twin brother for far, far, too long. “But I do not fear it as Mikael did, nor as Esther did. I anticipate it, I think. I anticipate it as one anticipates the surprises a new day might bring. Good or bad - it’s a new experience; though it shall certainly be nice to be free of the Frost-Sickness, I think. However that may be.”

Your brother considered your words but you knew they would not change his mind. For your family was frozen in body and mind and that was how you would remain for the rest of eternity. You were as eighteen then as you’d been one hundred years before… Well, perhaps you were slightly more. Each year only seemed to make you stronger, faster, sharper, and more eighteen. Time was the seal of your mother’s spell. Immortality polarized.

“I know you miss him, Y/N,” Elijah said with a heavy sigh. “But this is for the best.” 

You hung your head and nodded, allowing the tears in your eyes to spill down your cheeks freely for a little while. Your older brother reached out and brought you into his embrace, letting you cry as long as you needed. “Then I have just one request, if you’ll grant it,” You proposed, voice chipping like the stained glass windows of cathedrals you so dearly loved. 

“What is it, little one?”

“Don’t wake him while I’m sleeping?” You sniffed. “I don’t want him to be sad.”

“You have my word, lítil víx,” He promised.

Then there were four. 

It wasn’t that you forgave Elijah. No, that would take time. Rather you simply could never bring yourself to hate any of your siblings. Not even Niklaus. As much pain as he caused, as much terror as he sewed, and as much paranoia as he reaped, you could never bring yourself to hate your dearest artist. Bastard, hybrid, abomination - none of those labels ever phased you because he was still the quiet, loving brother who painted you flowers when you were Frost-Sick. 

It didn’t matter to you that he had killed your mother.

You loved him anyway.

London, England: October 16th, 1702

“I see your skill with a brush is improving, Nik!” You declared, flouncing into the second-floor study that your brother had commandeered as his studio. “You have perfectly captured the Siberian tundra. Congratulations. Though, your depiction might have been better had you simply left the canvas as you found it.” You smirked to yourself, rather satisfied with your wit, as you reclined in the overstuffed chair you dragged into the room behind you.

Niklaus let go of a long sigh and returned the brush he was working with to a basin of water he kept beside him. When he spoke, he did not turn to address you.

“May I ask what I did to warrant myself deserving of such bite from my littlest sister?” He asked, calm and fluid. He wasn’t in a good mood - you could tell. Thus you wanted to stay all the more. Perhaps you could cheer each other up. 

“I am not even that short,” You stated. Niklaus tossed a different brush, still covered in paint, over his shoulder, aimed for your face. You lept to dodge it with a giggle. “Secondly, it’s the season - I simply can’t help it.”

It was autumn in the city of London and the year was 1702, only a hand full of years before your family relocated to Cadiz and then later, New Orleans. Autumn was a difficult time of year for you as it was when the Frost-Sickness began to take hold. It had only grown worse since your transition into a creature of the night, just as everything about you had been enhanced. Though the Frost-Sickness could no longer afflict you with illness as it had when you were human - keeping you bedridden or even unconscious for days or weeks at a time - it could now do arguably worse. 

As autumn came, you could feel your mind and body begin to weaken. You felt frayed and tired and uncomfortable in a body that had for too long remained unchanged. You felt the loss of your magic so much more keenly and the loneliness that caused was far too acute. As the season wore on, it would only grow worse until you knew only misery. At that point, the silver daggers Niklaus had kept seemed like mercy, and without Kol’s magic to keep your head above water, you had willingly begged for their employ. They were your only escape from the pain that came with winter.

“Oh, how tragic,” Klaus remarked. You could practically hear him rolling his eyes. “Where’s your twin?”

“On a bender,” You deadpanned.

Nik huffed. “Figures. Go annoy him. I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to entertain you.”

You gasped in full shock. “Nik! How could you say that?”

“Simple. I pass air between my lips - like this!” He twisted around and stuck his tongue out at you.

You continued, unbothered. “I do not annoy, brother. I berate. There’s a difference.” 

“An impressive distinction, to be sure.”

“And yes, I am sure Kol would love to entertain me if he were not otherwise preoccupied entertaining someone else.” 

Klaus groaned. “What’s he done now and do I need to dagger him for it?”

“Please don’t make me think about it longer than necessary, but no.” You frowned, shuddering. 

“Now you have to tell me,” Your older brother grinned.

“I’m pretty sure he’s endevoring to sleep with the entire female population of London.”

“...Wow.”

“Indeed.”

He whistled and returned to working on that painting of his. “Well, you have to admire his audacity if nothing else,” Nik chuckled. 

You made a noise that was certainly anything but ladylike, followed by a gesture that was far worse. “I absolutely do not have to admire any aspect of him!” You exclaimed. You had hoped Klaus would have been just slightly more decent - if only for the sake of propriety. “He may be a strumpet of a man, but I am not. I am a lady.”

“I don’t see why this upsets you so,” He hummed, shaking his head. 

You huffed. “Because unfortunately, I am also his genetic copy. Therefore - technically speaking - if he’s slept with them, then I’ve slept with them! Which, admittedly, wouldn’t bother me if this were not the absolute bloody cesspool that is the bloody city of London!”

You’d expected him to laugh, and he did just a little bit, but it wasn’t nearly what you wanted. Dirty jokes almost always cheered Nik up and hearing him laugh never failed to make you laugh. Peering over his shoulder, you caught a glimpse of gray fur. He was painting wolves again. 

“Must be nice,” He mused a while later, having left you to silence for over a half hour.

“What?”

“Having a twin as you do,” He explained, voice wistful and far away. “Having someone you belong with completely, a reflection of yourself you know could not betray you nor abandon you any than the sea can abandon the shore. Must be nice.”

“Its not all bliss,” You reminded him, sitting up in your chair. “Kol still agrivates the living daylights out of me.”

“Such is the nature of being Kol.”

You nodded but said nothing, allowing him a moment with his thoughts before you asked the question he so desperately wanted to hear. “What’s wrong Niklaus?”

He sighed, though it sounded broken.

“Do you ever miss our mother, Y/N?” He asked.

You stilled. Out of all your siblings, you were the only one who knew what Niklaus had done. How he had murdered your mother. You had received visions of the moment throughout your life but particularly often in the months before it occurred. He didn’t know. You had never told him.

“Why ask me that, brother?” You returned, tilting your head.

“Because I want to know if this grief that still weighs so heavy on my soul is mine own fault or her’s.” He eyed you with a flat stare and you nodded, pressing your lips together. You didn’t want to hurt his feelings but you didn’t think your answer was one he would like. 

“I loved our mother dearly,” You eventually decided to say after a few beats of silence had passed between you. “But I do not miss her as you do.”

Nik’s voice trembled and the paintbrush clutched in his fist snapped. 

“Why?”

You smiled thinly. “Because I knew her as you do not.”

Your brother glanced up, meeting your eyes with an expression that demanded you explain yourself. You sighed heavily. It was time to come clean.

“I know what you did, Nik.”

His entire body stiffened, his eyes widening in alarm and terror.

“I know you killed her.” You shrugged. “I’m not mad.”

He drew in a sharp breath, shaking his head, his expression a mixture of guilt, relief, and confusion.

“How? W-why?” He choked out, unable to grasp the concept you’d laid in front of him.

“Because you’re my brother and I love you,” You said, smiling as though it was as simple as the words would imply. “Esther loved all of us in her own way, but that was not how a mother should. She loved the idea of children but the reality was more difficult than she had predicted and she struggled to understand her place, I think. Esther was barren, you see. She tapped into some very dark rituals to change that. Thus, we are all products of dark magic and such things so rarely receive a generous fortune from the spirits of nature. So we were all damned from the start, I think.” Pulling yourself to stand on legs that were still so frail, you wandered over to a side table and picked up the brush that rested upon it. You began moving it through your H/C hair in careful strokes. “In the end, Mother paid the price for her selfishness, I suppose. I don’t blame you. I cannot blame you, Niklaus lest I blame myself equally because that woman never loved any of us enough to save our souls and for that, I am simply unable to forgive her. I may never be able to.”

Tears slipped down your brother’s face. “But she loved you. I know she loved you most of all,” He said, through gritted teeth. 

You nodded, huffing a slight laugh. “That she did. Actually, I think she loved me a little too much.”

“You reminded her of Freya,” Klaus whispered. “Of her firstborn, the one she lost to plague.”

“I know.”

“She worried for you constantly, terrified some sickness would take you just as it took Freya.”

“I know.”

“When your Frost-Sickness rendered you unconscious, she nery left your side!”

“I know.”

Klaus clenched his teeth and growled. “Yet still you whine like a spoiled cat!” He spat, rage and jealousy now taking the forefront in his aquamarine eyes. “You never suffered our father’s rage, never had to labor as the rest of us did to please him, you were always doted apon by everyone - never had to feel as though you didn’t belong, as though you had you earn your place! How dare you take all that for granted.” 

Your jaw locked and you gently placed the brush down to avoid crushing the fine wood into splinters. Inhaling deeply, you fixed your gaze on your brother. “I have never taken for granted anything that was given to me. The sun, the moon, the stars, the trees, the rivers, the land, and more than anything this family have I given thanks for every single day I have been allotted. You, Niklaus, know not what it is to wake up, surprised that you made it another day. You, Niklaus, do not understand what it is to rejoice in the unfathomable agony that plagues your bones as it means that you’re alive. You, my brother, cannot comprehend what it is to put off sleep in fear that you may not see the next dawn - nor to fight through a hell of your mind’s own making for no other cause than for the love of family.” You shook your head, disappointed in him. “Do not call me ungrateful, Niklaus.” 

“Then why do you think of our mother with contempt when even I who took her life cannot forgive myself?!” He bellowed. His voice and eyes were hollow and broken, his soul desperate for an answer to his heart’s riddle. 

You could feel yourself begin to cry as well. Not for your own sake, but for his. 

“Her love wasn’t for me, Nik,” You sniffed. “It wasn’t mine - it was Freya’s.”

“N-no… She-”

“I grew up smothered by a shadow of love and regret that never had anything to do with me!” You cried, wrapping your arms around yourself as if they might contain the pain that threatened to tear you apart. “Mother’s doting wasn’t compassion! It was obsession! She thought that if she could just fix her past mistakes that it might somehow change how things were for us, but it was always a lie. A fairytale.”

When your older brother opened his arms, you ran to him, and he embraced you as any older brother should. You had aimed to cheer him up, but such was not the outcome. Sometimes things don’t work out the way they’re planned and Niklaus just let you cry. At the end of the day, your siblings would always be there for you - even if it was only at the very end.

“What’s worse was that I knew, I felt it every second,” You sobbed into his shirt, clinging to him like a plank of wood in a storm-tossed sea. “I saw myself in her eyes and believe me when I say that through them I know what our dearly departed sister looked like. She even called me Freya more times than I can count.” You shook your head, letting the pain run its course. “I was just her replacement, Nik. Just a replacement she tossed to the wayside like the rest of of her children - damned from the start.”

In this memory it was Niklaus who hung his head, ashamed of his quick accusations. He pressed a kiss to the crown of your hair. “I-I’m sorry, Y/N,” He said. “My minnsta vix, you are my sister - blood be damned - and I’ll never doubt your loyalty agian.”

And he never did. Of all your siblings, you were the only one Nik never daggered out of fear or as a punishment. Not like Kol, who was easily the one finding himself at the wrong end of a dagger too many times to count.

As much as his actions against your family, Niklaus especially, pained you, you couldn’t blame him. Your mother’s curse had consumed your twin brother and oh how acutely did you miss the mischievous boy you had adored with all your heart. The only time he truly seemed to return to you was around Bonfire season, or as it came to be called, Christmas.

New Orleans, Louisiana: December 3rd, 1904

“Kol, sweetheart, honey-bunch, mistletoe of mine; you had better start running because I’m going to beat your ass to a pulp as soon as I reach the bottom of these here stairs,” You sang from the balcony overlooking the courtyard of your families New Orleans compound. A wide, placid smile was spread over your face but it was the equivalent of thin ice because your eyes promised death. 

Down below, decorating the positively gigantic fir tree Klaus had somehow managed to fit through the front gates, stood your menace of a twin brother. He glanced up, flashing you the world’s cheekiest grin. “Oh, darling that’s not very peace on earth of you, now is it? Especially when I’ve done absolutely nothing wrong!”

Your eyes narrowed. “I think you know exactly what you did, Charles.” 

He snickered but held your eyes. Beside him Rebekah looked confused, glancing back and forth between the two of you. “What exactly is going on here?” She asked. Your younger sister also took a step away from your twin for good measure. She was a smart cookie.

Keeping your razer sharp glare fixed on Kol, you drew an object from behind your back - a long, thin, wooden object. You held it on display before you, twirling it like a staff between your fingers. You said nothing.

Rebekah groaned, rolling her eyes. “Really? We’re back to this again?” She scoffed and rounded on Kol. “What, did you run out of actually clever pranks to pull?”

“There’s nothing wrong with the classics, Rebekah,” Elijah cut in from where he sat with his book in the corner. A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens - how appropriate. 

“There is when its this one,” She claimed. “We’re going to be cleaning bits of Kol off the walls for a century when she’s though with ‘im!”

“Damn right, you are,” You said, eyeing your twin brother like a lion eyes a gazell. “Got anything to say for yourself… dim-wit?”

Kol grinned from ear to ear. “Why yes actually, I do.” He cleared his throat and straightened his jacket. Then he looked up, spreading his arms wide. “God bless us, Everyone!”

For a moment you didn’t move. You just glared death at him and he grinned back. Then, you chucked the crutch in your hands like a javelin, aimed directly at his face before vaulting yourself over the railing, screaming at the top of your lungs. “SUFFER THE WRATH OF TINY TIM, YOU KNOB-HEADED WANKER!!!”

Kol squealed like a girl and bolted just as fast as his legs could possibly carry him. “Is it too late to say I’m sorry?” He tried as he backed away from you, using Elijah and his chair as a shield.

“You forged these chains link by link and yard by yard,” You quoted, inching closer. “No apology can save you from me!”

“Bloody hell!” He yelped and leaped to the side as you made a grab for him, just narrowly dodging. He raced into the room closest to the two of you, dashing around the dining room table and through the opposite door. “Just because you’re a cripple doesn’t mean I don’t love you!”

You pursued him into the Kitchen. “How’s this for cripple?” You lept onto the counter and from there flung yourself onto your brother’s shoulders, tackling him to the floor. “Surrender or die!” You commanded, pressing your forearm against his throat.

“Fine! I surrender!” He conceded. You moved off him and allowed the boy to stand. 

“Mean cripple,” He muttered under his breath. 

You punched him in the gut.

It was that playful side of him that you missed. The one that would tease you with jabs that didn't sting just a little. The one who never sneered at you or yelled. You even missed his endless supply of cripple jokes, because that was him. That was your Kol and he was gone now. Your mother's curse had changed him most of all. 

Rebekah, on the other hand, hadn't changed much at all. Though she had developed something of an extreme side, her patterns remained the same. She followed in Niklaus's footsteps, wherever they may tread. She trusted and feared him. Rebekah always chose Nik over you and your twin.

New Orleans, Louisiana: December 21st, 1914

"No!" You shrieked as you watched that cold silver dagger pierce your twin brother's heart once again. The color in his skin faded to a corpse-like gray and the veins beneath blackened and ran dry. "No…"

He was gone. Kol would be locked away and there was no telling whether Niklaus would ever let him out again. The grief, the pain, and the agony were too much. You had only nearly been hanging on and only for Christmas - only for Kol because he loved the season so. But with him gone, the pain assaulted you in droves. Tears burned your eyes and you found yourself turning towards Rebekah.

"I trusted you," You whispered - heartbroken. "We trusted you."

"Y/N/N, I-I had to," She claimed. 

"No, you didn't." You shook your head, tears already making their way down your cheeks. "No, you didn't."

"Y/N, you don't understand-"

You didn't let her finish. Shaking your head, you turned away and carried yourself back to your room. There, you let yourself collapse on your bed, allowing the weight of the Frost-Sickness to crush you. Already your body felt heavier, your chest like a vice. You didn't want to be here any longer. Not without him.

A knock sounded on your door. 

"I don't want to talk!" You shouted.

The knock came again.

"Go away!"

The door opened and Niklaus stepped in. You glared at him.

"Do you not speak English?" You demanded. "Go away, I said. Trŭgvaĭ. Partir. Verlassen. Scram. Beat it. Leave me alone, it's what you're best at."

"I did what I had to do," Klaus said, eyes hard.

"Keep telling yourself that," You spat.

"He was plotting against me, forging a dagger-"

"He wasn't going to use it!" You bit your lip, your whole frame shaking with unshed tears. "He-He wasn't… He was never-" You fell back against your pillows, burying your face in your hands.

"Love, please-"

"I can't." You heaved and gasped for breath but you couldn't seem to get enough oxygen. "I can't a-and I don't want to. I don't want to be around without him - not now. I don't want this pain any longer! To run afoul of winter will surely shred my soul! I can't stand it, Niklaus! Just put me to sleep!"

Klaus closed his eyes and sighed. "Are you confident this is what you want?"

"I can't do it without him. This whole season - I can't stand it. I don't want to spend Christmas without him! Not this one or any other!" You rubbed your red-rimmed eyes. "Let me sleep through the winter, and wake me when you wake him."

"As you wish, dear sister." 

From his pocket, Klaus withdrew a gleaming silver dagger. Its edges glinted like snowflakes, though New Orleans didn't have those. He moved to sit by your side, raising his arm so you could lean against his shoulder. You closed your eyes, and a moment later, felt the chilling metal slice your flesh, lodging itself firmly in your heart.

"Merry Christmas, Nik." The words were the last to leave your lips.

"Sleep well and dream of butterflies, minnsta vix," Those words were the last you heard Klaus whisper to you. "I promise I shall wake you one day."

You knew Klaus would keep his promise, though it startled you when that promise came to fruition.

Mystic Falls, Virginia: Present Day

The first thing you registered when you awoke was a voice. Two voices actually. One that sounded like music and another that reminded you more of a rotten honeycomb - slimy, sticky, and brittle. You remained still and listened as these were not the voices of your family members and thus, they would have some serious explaining to do.

"Damon?" The musical voice spoke. "We did it. Abby and I opened the coffin."

The second voice, most likely this Damon fellow - not that you cared - sounded rather muffled. Almost as if he wasn't actually in the room. Speaking of, whatever sort of room you found yourself in was large and open. That is, everything echoed.

"Yeah?" The voice prodded impatiently. "And what's in there? What did you find?"

"Another corpse with a dagger through it," A third voice joined the conversation. This voice was similar to the music-like voice of the young girl, though it had a smokier quality.

"What?" That second voice did not sound happy. "That's it?"

"Yup. She's just some girl," The first voice replied.

"How old are her clothes?" The second asked. 

“Uh, I don’t know…” You felt someone pinch the fabric of your skirts, likely inspecting the make.

“Early ninteen-hundreds, I’d say,” The third voice spoke. How long had you been out? Niklaus wouldn’t have kept you daggered for that long, would he?

“Did you take the dagger out?” Damon demanded.

Always one for a dramatic entrance, you took that as your cue. Sitting up slowly, you turned your head and opened your eyes. Your whole body felt drained and dry and you knew the telltale signs of desiccation were still there. Two women stood in front of you, one adult and one no older than seventeen. Both had beautiful caramel skin and black hair and they shared the same gorgeous green eyes. Witches they were - mother and daughter. You could tell in the way they carried themselves. Both of them gasped in unison.

“I’m afraid they did,” You said with a smirk. “Hope that’s not too much of a problem.” Of course, you didn’t mean such a statement but for now, you were in good enough spirits to be amused. You focused your gaze on the younger of the two witches, schooling your expression to assure her that you meant the girl no harm. “Hello, darling. Would you be so kind as to tell me the date? I’m afraid I’ve been asleep a rather long time.”

What odd clothes these women wore. Instead of skirts, they sported trousers. Scandalous to be sure, but what you wouldn’t give for a pair.

The young girl floundered for a moment, searching for words but you remained patent. 

“Uh, um… I-it’s January 20th, 2012.” 

Your eyes widened in shock for a moment as you digested that information, then your expression fell into a grimace. “Great,” You huffed. Tossing your hair back, you hopped out of that cramped coffin and onto the floor of the cave. “Well, in that case, who are you and do I need to murder you both?”

Both women took a hesitant step back. 

“I-I’m Bonnie, Bonnie Bennet,” The younger one said. “And this is my mother, Abby.” She pointed to her senior companion. 

“I see,” You nodded cooly. Your mood was souring by the minute.

“We-we were told you were the weapon capable of killing Klaus Mikaelson,” She said.

You raised a brow and laughed. "Kill him? Kill Niklaus?" The expressions of the women before you were entirely serious though they quickly began to deteriorate into confusion as you doubled over laughing. "Now why on Earth would I do such a thing?"

Both witches glanced at one another, uncertain. "Well… because he daggered you?"

"At my behest!" You dismissed with a wave of your hand. "As if he could suffer me anything against my will; though, by Odin, I would certainly love to see him try. Ha! Kill him… I'd sooner let Kol have the pleasure - as long as we're suggesting absurdities. However, I will have a few choice words for him, just as soon as he comes to collect me, that you can be sure of." You shook your head as your laughter faded.

"That'll be hard, princess," The owner of that second voice you had heard waltzed through the mouth of the cavern. "The big bad wolf's got no clue where you are, so I don't think you'll be telling him anything."

He was a tall man, a little shorter than Kol but a little broader in the shoulders, with hair as black as a raven's plumage and pale skin to match. His eyes were a piercing sort of blue and you might have found him attractive had it not been for the unnerving gleam in those eyes and the sneer marring his lips.

"I beg your pardon?" You questioned, falling back into a more defensive stance at the sight of him. You didn't fear the man but something about that voice of his set you on edge.

"No one's coming to get you, sweetheart," Damon said.

You scowled, snapping your gaze back to Bonnie who had begun inching towards her ally's arrival. "You, girl! Why do you seek my brother's demise?" You demanded, eyes hard and sharp.

Bonnie froze. "I just want to protect my friends," She replied.

You shrugged. "A noble cause, at least."

"Wait, Klaus is your brother?" It was her mother who voiced the question and you rolled your eyes.

"Yes, of course he is. What else would he be?" You answered impatiently.

"Then why did he have your coffin sealed?" The woman questioned.

"Because my siblings are a rather overprotective lot and they tend to overdo my security just a tad." You huffed and turned back to the daughter. "Do you know where my brother currently resides?"

"Y-yes." She nodded.

"Very well, darling. Take me to him," You ordered shortly. Your tone left no room for debate and the women both moved to obey you but the man held his arm out to stop them.

"Woah, woah, woah. Not so fast. You're not going anywhere, princess," He said, taking a confident step forward.

"Step aside," You demanded. You had run out of patience.

The man - Damon - shook his head. "Not gonna happen."

You raised a brow. "Oh?"

"Nope."

"I should warn you, that's rather ill advised," You said, smiling thinly. Your eyes promised danger.

"And why's that, sugar?" That southern accent of his was certainly grating on your already thin nerves.

"Because I lack my twin's fun-loving temperament and all-around more reasonable nature," You replied. "Move aside and take me to my family or I shall skin you alive and tear each strand of sinus from your muscles one by one as I weave them into a nice rug."

Damon snorted. "Could you at least make me into a tapestry? I always wanted to be one of those."

"This is the only warning I will give," You ground out, eyes narrowed.

He scoffed. "Come at me, short-ass."

The insult was entirely his mistake. 

You rushed at him, dodging right at the last second to avoid his attempt to grab you. Snatching his arm for balance, you angled your feet to the wall of the cave and pushed off. That initial push supplied you with enough momentum to cartwheel your tiny body over his shoulders. Your weight combined with the force you applied, threw him off balance and you took the opportunity to drive your elbow firmly into his skull as soon as you were solidly back on the ground. Damon reeled in pain but you didn't give him time to think. You swept your leg around and kicked his own out from under him, sending him crashing to the cave floor.

You knelt on his chest and met his eyes.

"Take me to my family," You ordered, impressing your will on his inferior mind.

The man smirked and tossed you off of him. You were sent stumbling and your back slammed into the side of the coffin you had awoken in. You blinked, shaking the slight daze away. What had happened? Why had your compulsion failed?

"Sorry, cupcake," Damon gloated, getting to his feet. "I had a vervain cocktail for breakfast."

"No matter." You shrugged and straightened up again. "I was simply intending to be nice. I should be thanking you. For now I can have a little fun without Elijah reprimanding me for it." 

You rushed him again and this time he was ready for you to evade his outstretched arms. He stepped to the right to counter you but this time you ducked and slid between his legs. Twisting around with all the agility of a coiled servant, you kicked him in the groin like the simple, prudent soul you were. Damon cursed and fell to one knee, glaring at you over his shoulder.

"That was cheap," He bit out, grimacing.

You shrugged. "That was practical," You replied, smirking primly. "And so is this."

Grabbing him by the wrist, you twisted his arm and pulled it around his back, pushing him over. You positioned your fingers to perfectly utilize the fulcrum point of that wrist as your shoved his hand forwards. Damon grunted and you grinned. Then you started breaking his fingers. One at a time. 

Snap!

Snap!

Snap!

The man cursed and screamed and you just giggled like the innocent little girl you had once been but were no longer.

Unfortunately, in your eagerness to take down the man in the black leather jacket, you had entirely forgotten about the two witches in the room.

"That's enough!" The younger one shouted. A searing pain ignited in your skull, prompting you to release your grip on the raven-haired man. You cried out clutching your skull as the other woman yelled:

"Motus!"

You were thrown back into a semi-damp wall of stone and held there by an invisible force. The pain in your head faded and your gaze snapped up, locking on Bonnie and her mother. You hissed, teeth-gnashing and eyes wild. You were tired and starving and miserable and cold and they were in your way. 

Then, a blur of motion startled you and before you could blink, a tall figure in a dark suit caught the elder woman by the throat and raised her into the air 

"Miss and Mrs. Bennett, I suggest you release my sister at once." Elijah's booming voice struck through the cavern and you grinned, turning your head to the door. There stood your brothers - well, two of them, anyway - and neither of them looked very amused. Klaus moved to intimidate the younger girl and Kol smirked as he delivered a few swift, bone-crunching kicks to Damon's ribs. 

You smiled wryly.

As it turned out, Klaus, Elijah, and Kol made for quite the menacing trio when the three of them stood together on something. You made a mental note to encourage them to agree more often. The magic pinning you to the wall faltered, the witch responsible having lost all her bravado along with most of her oxygen supply. You dropped to the ground, landing in a bit of an unceremonious heap. 

"Ugh! About time you three got here," You huffed, rolling your eyes as you brushed yourself off. 

"Apologies, sister," Kol grinned, finishing with Damon by snapping his neck before prancing over to you. "We had some urgent remodeling to take care of - you know how it goes." He tossed you something and you caught the object, inspecting it. The thing appeared to be a plastic bag containing… blood? 

Huh… how peculiar.

You shrugged and tore into it. The sweet nectar inside wasn't as fresh as you would have liked but beggars can't exactly be choosers now, can they?

"Don't ever presume to threaten my sister again. Do I make myself clear?" Elijah growled his tone a harsh bite emphasized by the glare Klaus cast between mother and daughter. Both women nodded vigorously and Elijah dropped the one he was strangling. She fell to the ground, gasping for breath and he turned to you, seeming to inspect your figure for injuries before speaking. "Are you unharmed, lítil víx?" He asked gently.

"I'm quite alright. Though, I most certainly would like to know whose fault is was that I fell into the hands of such incompetent brutes as these," You hummed, continuing to suck out the contents of the bag in your hands rather contentedly. Beside you, your twin brother smirked and threw an arm around your shoulders, pulling you firmly into his side as he turned and started from the cave. The other two followed with Klaus making one last rather threatening gesture before taking up the rear. 

"I'm afraid it was Niklaus's regrettable negligence that allowed all of our coffins to be stolen," Elijah informed you.

Klaus made a strangled noise of offense. "It wasn't my fault!" He protested. "I was a little distracted with killing our father!"

"Father's dead?" You asked in surprise. Your siblings nodded. "Oh… Well good riddance."

"Thought you might say that. Now, don't you ever scare me like that again, darling. Understand?" Kol demanded, hugging you closer. Despite how he had been changed by your mother's curse, you could always be sure he would still care about you. No curse on the planet could change that.

"Ah yes," You agreed, rolling your eyes. "I'll try my very best to avoid being kidnapped while under the influence of a magical sleep in the near future."

Your twin brother poked you in the ribs in response to your wit.

"He's serious, love," Klaus added. "You nearly gave us a heart attack."

"Careful, Nik. Statements like those might lead one to think you have a heart," You chastened playfully.

The hybrid chuckled. "Only for you, love. Only for you."

"And for the occasional blonde, let us not forget," Elijah quipped, smirking to himself.

You giggled but your mirth didn't last long.

Stepping out of the mouth of the cave system, you were met with the blackness of night and air even colder than that of the cavern. Snow drifted from a dreary sky and you frowned, shivering. Discomfort weighed in your soul and you could feel it begin to grow just as frigid rime creeps along until it smothers a plant. You sighed. It was going to be a difficult few months until spring. 

Kol rubbed your arm comfortingly and leaned in close. "It'll be alright, Y/N. I'm right here. I may not have my magic, but I'm not leaving you and you won’t be alone this winter."

Yes, as always, it was going to be a difficult few months until spring. 

But at the very least you had your family.

No matter what, you would have your family. Always and Forever.

Tagging: @yn-ymn-yln @r13mar @rootbeerfaygo @iiskittles16ii @fandomrulesall-blog @dark-night-sky-99 @railingsofsorrow @apolloroid @thatweirdoleigh @misswe03 @eat-cake @felinegrate @trikigirl271 @cute-freak27 @fayeatheart @archangelslollipop @slaypussypop-21

Hey there, people of the internet! If you want on or off the tag list for this series and/or all my other works, just comment or send me a DM to let me know! And if Tumblr won't let me tag you, I'll just send you a friendly DM reminder at your request. Thanks for reading!

#my name is cas and i write stuff #fanfic #fluff #the originals #rebekah mikaelson #kol mikaelson x reader #the vampire diaries #elijah mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #kol x reader #the originals x reader #elijah x reader #klaus mikealson x reader #rebekah mikaelson x reader #tvd fan fic #the originals fan fiction #angst and fluff #tvdu #the vampire diaries fan fic #the mikaelsons #reader insert #klaus x reader #elijah mikaelson x reader #rebekah x reader #kol mikaelson #mikaelson family #mikaelson family x reader #mikaelson family x sibling!reader #sibling!reader #disabled!reader

[roselilies]

#delusional til i die #x reader #star wars x reader #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker #tom riddle #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #formula 1 #formula one #f1 x reader #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil #the vampire diaries #the originals #max verstappen x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #klaus mikaelson x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #harry potter #cedric diggory x reader #harry potter x reader #fanfic #fan fiction #girlblogging #girlblogger #charles leclerc

[drchucktingle]

to clarify about fan fiction

to clarify something chuck said in post about being PRO FAN FICTION, some buds have asked if i misspoke when i said ‘fan fiction is part of the original art’. i did not misspeak. i really truly believe this.

if i write a story and you read it an this moves you to paint a picture of snabe and harriet porber, that WHOLE EXPERIENCE FROM ME TO YOU is its own mixed media piece. the medium is motion (getting up and getting the paints) visual (painting) literary (reading the book in first place and then writing your own commentary when you post about it later). it is drama and performance. it is meditation. it is dance in its own way.

i very much mean this: art does not begin and end on the canvas or the page. it is what you had for breakfast the morning you wrote those words, or the story that stuck in your head after watching a show the night before. art is the buckaroo who was moved to pen a whole five page romance story about your characters having a kind picnic in the part.

we are here to create as we push back against the blank empty void, and we prove love is real every time we fill this blank space with little pieces of us. i will not stand in the way of that, and it is an honor to fill this space with this web of inspiration from one bud to the next. ALL OF THIS TIMELINE is a piece and we are one big writers room. there is no shame in this and it is a group project i am proud to be a part of.

#chuck tingle #tingleverse #art theory #fan fiction #yes fan fiction is an extension of the original piece and together they are a valid piece too it is all the same beautiful creation

[quiddling]

very kissable

#lady argent wants him so bad #i mean all the rangers do but... #wyatt holt #puppetmaster #sidestep #art #digital art #my art #drawing #fan art #procreate #fhr #if #original character #fallen hero #fhr sidestep #choice of games #oc #interactive fiction #fallen hero rebirth #fallen hero retribution #character design

[brookbee]

is this too niche

#explanation: #revolution meant that desi arnaz had to escape to USA #where desi met lucille ball #and they wanted to work/stay together which meant creation of I love Lucy #as well as desilu productions #which then produced Star Trek #and Star Trek fans are then credited for inventing slash fiction #Star Trek tos #the original series #spirk #trekposting

[spirk-trek]

Companion Fanzine | Pat Stall, 1978

#spirk #star trek #spock #fan art #star trek tos #star trek the original series #captain kirk #vintage #tos #portrait #leonard nimoy #william shatner #angst #fandom #fanzines #love #science fiction #lgbt #history #slash #drawing

[dreamingonclds]

Unintentional | FA14

Summary: Y/n and Fernando Alonso were both professionals, both only seemingly having time for their careers. They both have had their fair share of relationships but they’ve never become serious for either of them. Y/n is an A-list celebrity, a highly respected actress and Fernando a champion athlete, a Formula One driver. Nobody could’ve ever imagined both of their paths to cross but, they do. It was said that their relationship was destined to fail, their 16 year age gap being too large to be sustained. But, to everyone's surprise, a blessing they created without intention was just enough to fill that gap, like fate.

Pairing: Fernando Alonso x Reader

Word Count: 2,722

Warnings: None

Chapter 1

Note: If you would like to be added to the taglist, please @ yourself in the comments!

As you meticulously applied your lipstick, your mind couldn’t help but wander to the thought of who you would meet tonight. Your stomach bubbled with nerves, a sensation you always got with meeting new people; despite how long you had been in the industry for. You met new people almost weekly, nothing new in the entertainment industry. You were used to meeting wealthy business people and pretending to care about anything that came out of their mouths. But you were genuine about meeting new directors, writers, and filmmakers; you genuinely cared about what they had to say.

Tonight was no different, you had been invited to a dinner by some friends. It just so happened that those friends were in the industry too and it just so happened that the dinner would be in Beverly Hills. So, you knew that tonight would be a night of pretending to care because the people who actually cared for the artistry of entertainment would never choose to dine in Beverly Hills. And you were a professional, so you sucked it up, put a smile on your face, and decided to have a good night.

So, you decided that to have a good night you had to have a good outfit. You were a public figure, a very popular one at that, so you did have to dress to impress. And you didn’t mind, you loved fashion and you loved to shop so it all worked out. You also cared about your appearance and wanted people to like you, but not for how you looked. You wanted people to like you for the person you were and what you brought to the table. And unfortunately, that goes hand in hand with physicality in this world. So you slip on a back silk dress because those always do the job.

Arriving at the restaurant, you thank your chauffeur as he helps you out of the car and guides you to the entrance. Stepping into the restaurant you’re immediately greeted by your friends and introduced to all the unfamiliar faces. Soon enough you're all making your way through the restaurant, several diners turning their heads to you all, some trying to sneakily snap pictures which you notice every time. Once you're seated at the ridiculously large table, you notice the empty seat beside you and around the table.

“People missing?” you ask your friend sitting right across from you.

“Yeah, they’re running a little late but they should be here very soon.” she answers, giving you a small smile.

After a little conversation, you all turn your heads to the chatter that is seemingly making its way towards you all. Sure enough, it’s the missing half of your party and as you scan your eyes through all of them, one catches your eye.

“Here they are!” your friend announces, standing up to greet them and everyone follows.

In the midst of the commotion, bodies moving left to right you hear your friend declare seating arrangements.

“Fernando, why don’t you sit next to Y/N, she speaks Spanish too.” she says pointing you out so he knows who you are.

You see a man nod and begin to approach, you notice the brunette with semi-shaggy hair and a short beard. Sure enough, it’s the one who caught your eye earlier on. He greets you with a kiss on both cheeks that you reciprocate and helps you into your seat.

“What a gentleman, thanks. Fernando, right?” you look towards him, wanting to start a conversation like the rest of the table is doing

“Of course, Y/n?” he nods in response and you do the same, noticing his accent. As you make eye contact, you begin to note the faint lines around his eyes and the maturity of his face. Your mind begins to wonder, whether he’ll take you seriously noticing the lack of physical maturity on your 26-year-old face. Usually, men over 5 years older than you never took you seriously, their conversations always started professional but quickly turned to comments about your body and sexual experience.

Before either of you could get another word in, the waiter begins to ask for your drinks of choice. Usually, you would go for a beverage that would liven you up but, you had a rule that you only drank at dinner when everybody at the table were your friends. So, you asked for the next best thing.

“I’ll take a coke please.” you tell the waiter, who quickly jots it down and looks to Fernando next

“Uh, I’ll take the same please” Fernando turns to look at you with a confused look

“Oh, I don’t know everybody at this table so, I’d like to get to know you with a sober mind.” you tell him matter of factly, hoping that was the explanation he was looking for. Although it was the truth, you did want to get to know the rest of the table; but specifically him. In what seemed like record time, the waiter comes back setting down all of your drinks.

“Igualmente” Likewise he nods towards the brown beverage in front of him.

“I thought maybe you were still too young to drink, you look young, why do you want to get to know me?” he asks, bringing his glass to his lips.

“I’m 26, not that young. And you're sitting right beside me, we have a long night ahead. Why not get to know you; your friends.” you add the last part in, trying to deflect and hide your interest in him; hoping he doesn’t catch on.

“Why’d you copy me, I mean no offense but, you don’t look like you just turned 21?” he brought up your age first, two can play at that game.

He chuckles, still looking at you.

“I’m 42, not that young either.” he says in truth. And before you can respond he speaks again.

“Pretty girl, pretty dress.” he brings his glass to his lips, looking away nonchalantly.

“And you’re sitting right beside me.” he states matter of factly, using your own words against you.

Your jaw drops the slightest and your eyebrows scrunch in surprise. His confidence, so abrupt it takes you a few seconds to bring your face back to its natural resting place. Despite your efforts to look cool and unaffected, you can see the pride your reaction gives him. With a teaseful look in his eye, he offers you a smirky smile that makes your stomach erupt in butterflies. Your cheeks and ears go hot, and you now find it hard to sit still or contain the smile pulling at your lips.

The rest of the night goes exactly as expected, the two of you deep in conversation and completely ignoring the rest of the table. There’s a tension that's rising that even the others can feel. Neither of you even realize how many times they’ve teased you two or tried to get you to join their conversation. You’ve also failed to notice the pointed phones from other diners and sneaky restaurant workers.

As you all are ending your dinner, restaurant patrons and workers start making their way to your table. Asking for pictures and autographs from you and your party alike, both separately and together. Little did you know that those images would lead to a whirlwind of speculation, the world seemed to spiral at the thought of you together.

Your group converses outside the restaurant for a few minutes, a back and forth of what the plans for the rest of the night were. You stood there to yourself contemplating whether you wanted to continue your night. You had a fitting in the morning and a couple of online meetings you had to prepare for. Considering it was nearing 1 am, you decided to head home with a professional attitude to your day ahead.

Before you can interrupt the group to bid your goodbye, Fernando makes his way to your side.

“Are you going out for more drinks too?” he turns to you.

“I have meetings in the morning, I think I’m just gonna head home.” you nod your head.

“Me too actually, I drove here by myself. Let me take you home.” he points at himself.

“Yeah, that’d be nice actually; thank you.” 

You both take a few steps forward towards the group, ready to bid your farewells together. But before either of you can mutter a word, your friend's chatter amplifies into a passionate discussion about who knows what. Fernando turns to look at you, an amused smile on his lips that turns into a chuckle after noticing your surprised expression.

“Mejor nos esperamos.” We better wait, he jokes, and you giggle looking towards him, only to realize his eyes were already set on you.

“Buena idea” Good idea,  you say with a smile, continuing the playful vibe of the setting. You two carry on with your light-hearted conversation. Unconsciously backing away from the group until your back hits the restaurant's ornate rail. Fernando holding on to the rail on your right side, halfway caging you in, seemingly protecting you from passersby giving you questioning glances; realizing who you were.

Your conversation continues and you two get lost in getting to know each other. You learn that he’s a champion F1 driver and he learns the movies he’s seen you in, not knowing it was you. Before he can finish saying where his next race will be, you're drawn out of your heart to heart by shouts from your group.

“Hey lovebirds, you guys coming?” your friend shouts pointing down the street, implying a prolonged night out.

A sheepish smile forms on your lips and you shake your head, “We both have busy mornings tomorrow. We’re gonna skip this one!”

“Alright then, don’t have too much fun!” someone teases, causing the rest of the group to laugh.

Fernando smiles and shakes his head at the joke, “I’m just going to take her home!”

You all exchange thank you’s and appreciation for dinner before saying your goodbyes. Then begin to make your way down your respective sides of the street. He leads you to his car, not in front of you but by walking closely behind you, guiding you with a light touch to your back. He helps you in, chivalrously, taking your bag from you, opening the door, and taking your hand to help you in. You take notice of what car he drove, a luxurious sports car, that to you matched the reputation of an F1 champion. You questioned yourself on if you wanted him to live up to the reputation of a man like him.

Before he can drive off, he makes sure you’re both buckled in and asks for your address. You give it to him and then you're off to your luxurious hotel, which the movie you were in Beverly Hills for set you up with. You two continue your conversation the whole time, only stopping when Fernando gets out of the car first to open your door. He walks you to your room, as he insists on “dropping you off”. But really, you’re more than happy to oblige to his request as you didn’t want the night to end.

“No paps.” Fernando blurts randomly, as you both make your way through the lobby.

You scan the room and realize he was right, you only saw the employees and the occasional normal guest.

“Oh yeah” you acknowledge, normally every hotel in Beverly Hills was swamped with paparazzi no matter the time. So you worked it up to luck, you two got lucky tonight. Little did you know that this would foreshadow the rest of your relationship.

You make it to your room and unlock the door, stepping into the doorframe and turning to face Fernando. You two stand there for a few seconds, just staring at each other, Fernando's hands in his pants pockets and your hand on the door, an undeniable tension lingers between you two.

“Do you want to come in?” you suggest hesitantly, pointing inside, ready to face rejection.

“Uh yeah, can I?” he answers quickly, surprising you and catching you off guard. 

“Come on in.” you say, widening the door and stepping back, letting him inside. He makes his way towards the living room area of your massive hotel room and you follow him. Before you can sit down on the couch beside him, you notice the complimentary bottle of champagne in the ice bucket, now sitting in water that was ice a few hours ago. You go to the table and pull out the bottle from the bucket, wrapping it in a towel to prevent it from dripping.

“Quieres?” Do you want some? You offer him, showing him the bottle.

“Por favor” Please He stands up and heads towards you, taking the bottle from your hands to open it himself. You hold up the two glasses, also on the table, for him to pour into. After pouring, he sets the bottle down and you hand him his glass.

“Gracias” Thank you You both say at the same time, which causes you both to giggle.

“Let's go to the balcony” you suggest and head outside, he follows you but, not before grabbing the bottle to take with.

You lean on the rail, one forearm resting on it while your other arm brings the glass to your lips. Fernando places the bottle on the small table conveniently outside and then he goes to stand in front of you. He halfway cages you in again, one arm holding the rail close to your side, and you notice this protective pattern of his. Both of you stand there, not saying anything with words but instead through the looks you’re giving each other.

“You are very beautiful.” he blurts out, scanning your face with a pensive expression on his face.

You scrunch your eyebrows in confusion for a quick second before smiling and meeting his eyes.

“Thank you, you are very beautiful too.” you respond in honesty and nod your head when he looks at you confused. A shy smile breaks onto his face and he looks at the ground stepping away from you. 

He looks back up, licking his lips ever so slightly and takes the glass from your hand. He goes to place yours and his glass on the table while you stand there confused. He comes back to his original spot in front of you but this time way closer than before. His hand comes up to cup the side of your face and your eyes look deep into his as his thumb caresses your cheek. You go to say something but are cut off by his lips pressed against yours. You quickly catch on and move your lips with his. His hand comes off of your face and moves to your waist, you step away from the rail to try and get closer to him. He wraps both of his arms low around your waist and his fingers dance right above your bum. You instinctively bring your arms up to wrap around his neck and your fingers go to dance in his hair at the nape of his neck.

He smoothly turns you both around so now he is against the railing. Your makeout continues for a short minute until you realize something and your eyes open.

“I don’t kiss on the first date.” you say exasperated, pulling away and trying to catch your breath. He leans back trying to get a look at you, breathing heavily, eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

“But I’ll make an exception tonight.” you say quickly, he smiles before you lean in and desperately attack his lips again. He grabs your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist and walks inside towards the bed. He gently lays you down and stands back up separating your lips, he swiftly removes his shirt before hungrily coming back down on top of you.

The rest of the night goes as expected and contrary to your usual experience with men, he stays the night. You both sleep comfortably in each other's arms, not even wondering how it all led to this moment. Although you were both trying to figure out why this all felt so natural, you both knew one thing, this was the start of something special.

Taglist:

@minkyungseokie

@ursforever129

@thatchickwiththecamera

#fan fiction #fanfic #f1 #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #formula one x oc #formula one x reader #formula one x imagine #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #scenarios #imagines #oneshots #for you #fiction #original story #fernando alonso #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso x y/n #fernando alonso x oc #fernando alonso x female reader #fernando alonso x actress

[fitzs-trained-monkey]

The Result of Naps

Word Count: 4,000 (Short ik)

Warnings: Absolutely none. Just fluff.

Summary: RAFO, my darlings ;) || Elijah x reader || Here lies my Masterlist ||

A/N: I wrote for Elijah? BY CHOICE??? Wow, must be the end of the world. It just sort of happened. It's not bad tho. If y'all like this, I have a draft for a part two in my google docs. Just sayin'. Now sit back and enjoy the show!

😴 STORY BEGINS BELOW 😴

Your shift passed as it always did. Slowly and in silence. Being employed by the town as the Mystic Fall's Archive Historian had sounded like a dream come true, right up until you realized that you were really just a glorified librarian. The town archives were located towards the back of the Mystic Falls public library and it was too expensive to pay a separate caretaker when you were there to do practically the same thing.

Don't get it wrong, you loved books - history and knowledge were precious to you - but as much as you enjoyed spending each day in a large building full of literature, you weren't sure how much longer you could last spending day after day alone watching such treasures do nothing but collect dust. No one came to the library anymore - most just preferred studying from home. The library's book selection was rather outdated and no one aside from you would willingly read the town's milling or tax records. So you spent your days alone. Sitting in silence. Watching books collect dust.

That was precisely how you'd fallen into the nasty habit of taking naps on the job. It was hard not to. The library building didn't exactly have the best air conditioning in the world and it was always so deserted that you could regularly fit in a two or three hour nap with no consequences.

So naturally, when someone tapped you on your shoulder in the middle of one of those naps, you nearly jumped out of your skin.

"HOLY TOLEDO!" You shouted, stirring to life. The book resting on your chest tumbled off, but a hand shot out and caught it before it hit the floor. You looked up slowly to see who had disturbed your slumber and were surprised to find yourself looking at the face of a gorgeous young man dressed in what appeared to be a very expensive suit. He stared down at you with an inquisitive look. You smiled sheepishly. "Uh, hiiiiiiii... What can I do for you?"

"My apologies for disturbing your rest, Miss," He said, clearly just a little bit amused and trying not to show it. You bit your lip and sat up, blinking and stretching your neck out a little. You had to fight the urge to rub your eyes.

"No, no it's fine," You assured him, waving your hand. "I'm really sorry about that. It's just... nobody ever comes in here, ya know? Just the occasional founder or whatever, but that's just once in a blue moon and high schoolers only visit when they're absolutely desperate... and I'm rambling, aren't I?" You let go of a nervous chuckle and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

"It's not a trouble," He said.

"Anyway... Let's start over, shall we?" You stood, smoothing the wrinkles from your shirt and straightening your nametag. Then you offered him your hand. "I'm Y/N, Mystic Falls Public Archive Historian and glorified librarian."

The man took your hand and, instead of shaking, he lifted it to his lips and pressed a chaste kiss to your knuckles. "I am Elijah," He introduced. He provided you no other information but you were a little too distracted by his charming behavior to dwell on that.

"Okay," You breathed, blushing. "Well, what can I help you with? I've read just about everything in this place at least twice, so I'm sure I can help you find whatever it is you're looking for."

A small smile found its way to Elijah's lips and he looked you over as if trying to determine something.

"Well, you see, I'm writing my dissertation on the history of small towns in north-western Virginia-" He began.

"That sounds fatally boring," You interrupted. He didn't even have to speak to point out everything you had just said about your job, his expression did the talking for him and you realized you had no argument. "Continue."

"As luck would have it, this town possesses the largest collection of antique documents in the area. I was simply hoping you would point me in the direction of the town's archives," He said.

"Oh, finally!" You exclaimed, clapping your hands. "It's been a hot minute since anyone aside from the Mayor or the Sheriff has asked to see those. Right this way, Elijah." He frowned.

"There's no need to accompany me Miss. Y/N," Elijah politely claimed. "If you simply point the way, I'm confident I'll be able to manage the rest. I would hate to impose on your... personal time."

You snorted. "Personal time? Is there something you'd like to say about my work ethic, Mr. Elijah?"

"Nothing at all," He chuckled pleasantly. "And just Elijah will do fine."

You nodded, raising a brow. "Will it now?"

He smiled. "Of course. If we are to consider ourselves friends, that is."

"Friends?" You questioned, blinking in surprise. "I haven't been at this job too long, but I have to say I'm surprised. Just for future reference, do all writers befriend random small town librarians, or is that just you?"

"I'd like to think it's just me," Elijah replied, shrugging just slightly. He was very reserved, you noticed. "Especially if said individual is as beautiful as you and circumstances dictate I'll be visiting them quite often."

You smirked, nodding. "Visiting often for research, I'm sure. Nothing else."

"Naturally," He hummed, pleased you caught his meaning.

You laughed, ducking your head to hide the blush that colored your cheeks. There was something about that smile... "Well, in that case, Y/N will do just fine."

"Excellent, I'll keep that in mind." His eyes scanned your face and you swallowed thickly under the intensity of it. You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Anyway," You continued. "While I'm sure you're more than qualified to navigate a library the size of a broom closet, you would find yourself faced with a locked door and as I happen to be the keeper of that door's sole key, it is imperative that I accompany you to your destination."

"Valid point." He nodded and extended his arm to you - very old-fashioned like. "In that case, lead the way."

"It would be my genuine pleasure." You smiled and hooked your arm through his, starting towards the back. Within a matter of moments, the two of you had crossed the length of the library and you guided him to a non-descript door with a plaque that read Employees Only. The door was locked, of course, just as you had told Elijah it would be, thus you removed the lanyard which held your keyring from around your neck and fitted the lock with its proper key. Turning the handle, you pulled the door open and waved him through; however, to your surprise, Elijah took the door from you and motioned for you to continue first. You grinned and shook your head but took the invitation anyway, making sure to kick a doorstop next to the frame to keep it from closing all the way just in case someone asked for you while you were assisting Elijah.

"I can hold a door, you know," You teased as Elijah joined you once again. A short hallway stretched off in front of you. The door to your left opened into the library's Digital Resource Housing Accommodation - which was honestly just a fancy way of saying Computer Room but the town's council insisted on the pretentious name. (Of course, the library kept two computers out in its main area for public use, but those had a habit of getting stolen by desperate high schoolers.) Whereas the four doors to your right led to a series of small rooms for anyone in need of a quieter space for private tutors or counseling. At the end of the hall, there was another door on the left. You headed towards that one.

"I am aware." He nodded, smiling. "I happen to be a devout feminist."

"Then you of all people should know that chivalry is dead," You pointed out.

"Perhaps," He acknowledged. "Although I see no reason it shouldn't be brought back."

You scoffed. "Yeah, no. I don't think men need yet another reason to delude themselves into thinking a woman needs them for anything," You said.

"You are absolutely right," The man agreed, laughing just a little bit.

"Yes, I am." Reaching the door, you switched out your keys and unlocked that one too. Elijah reached past you and pulled it open, holding it for you. Raising a brow, you turned to face him pointedly. "What was that about me being right?"

"You are." He offered you another one of those small yet knee weakening smiles and you crossed your arms in an attempt to ground the butterflies it set off. "However, chivalry is not about doing things for a woman out of the misguided fantasy that she cannot do them for herself. Rather, it is about treating a woman with the proper respect, dignity, and kindness a lady deserves to be shown." He watched you kick another doorstop into place before leaning against the door frame to look up at him.

"Yeah, I've never met another man who buys that."

Elijah shrugged easily. "Well, anyone who believes otherwise is simply an unfortunate waste product of a primitive society."

You nodded and smirked. "Oh, I like you." Pushing yourself off the door frame, you took a left and began climbing the old and only slightly rickety stairwell. Elijah followed you in but his footsteps stalled on the landing. You turned back to see him glancing to the right, towards the staircase that descended into the basement, wearing an expression of slight confusion. "What?"

"Not to question your expertise, but typical archives I've visited in the past have been located on the lowest floors - in underground vaults and such," He explained. "Is that not the case here?"

You tried to be courteous, but there was a reason you had tried to avoid customer service work your whole life. You threw your head back and laughed, clutching your side.

Elijah tilted his head. "Did I say something wrong?"

You shook your head, still giggling. "No! No, you're fine." You wiped your eyes and took a deep breath. "Sorry, it's just-" You took one look at his face and burst out laughing again.

"What did I say?" He demanded, fighting a chuckle of his own.

"Okay, okay!" You pushed your hair out of your face and schooled your expression, calming yourself. "First of all, this ain't the Smithsonian, Elijah."

"Oh, absolutely not," He agreed, shaking his head. "For one thing, the staff in this establishment is deplorable."

"File a complaint with my manager." You shrugged. "Oh, wait... That's right, I am my manager."

Elijah huffed a laugh and began climbing the stairs. "That sounds rather tedious, but please continue.."

You grinned. Finally, someone who appreciated your sense of humor. "Second, this is Virginia. The ground floor is where we put the stuff we can afford to lose, and anything we put in the basement is destined for annihilation." He shot you a questioning look and you elaborated. "This place flooded twice last year."

"oh, I'm sorry to hear that," He said, frowning.

"Don't be - you're not the one who had to clean it up." You smirked, elbowing him playfully. You weren't sure why. After all, you barely knew this man, but despite his expensive attire and reserved demeanor, something about him just put you at ease. So you were grateful that he didn't seem to mind, going so far as to laugh along with you.

At the top of the stairs there stood yet another door, though this one was much newer and more sturdy than the rest. Once you turned the key, its digital lock required you to swipe your card and input a four digit code. "No peeking," You said teasingly, not really caring if he took you seriously.

He did look away, although not without comment. "I'm fairly confident I could kick this door down if I was truly committed."

"Mmm... I wouldn't be too sure about that." You pushed the door open and held it this time, gesturing behind you. "Go ahead and take a look-see."

Elijah raised a brow but walked in and glanced at the back of the door. "Steel reinforcement," He noted, duly impressed. "That's quite a lot of security for a small-town archive."

You snorted. "You say that as if there's some sort of conspiracy to be had here."

"Isn't there?"

You paused for a moment, then shrugged, flipping on the lights. "Take that up with the founder's council, my friend," You supplied.

The dim lights of the archive room flickered to life, revealing row after row of floor to ceiling filing cabinets that spanned to the back wall. There were no windows. The only other furniture in the room was a large wooden desk, complete with several yellow lamps and a magnifying glass. Old school all the way.

Elijah blinked and turned to you. "The Founder's Council?" He inquired.

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, leaning against the wall next to the light switch. "It's kinda like some super secret club the founding families have where they get together to share their holier-than-thou gossip and Pinterest recipes," You said with a long sigh. "They like to think nobody on the outside knows about it, but if their ancestors didn't want anyone to find out, then they shouldn't have written about it so much. Fast forward a hundred and fifty some-odd years and with the descendents of those families too lazy to go through their actual mountains of inherited documents, guess who got to read all about those little pow-wows -" You clicked your tongue, jabbing a thumb towards yourself. "- this gal, that's who.

"Do you think there's something this Council could be hiding?" He wondered.

"Oh, I think there's plenty of things they think they're hiding," You scoffed. "But as for any actual conspiracies? I think not... aside from maybe a scandal or two."

"I see." He nodded.

"It's honestly sad to see how self-important some people are," You grumbled.

"Agreed," Elijah hummed, looking as annoyed as he probably could. "Especially since they're not even the actual founders of this town."

"Right?!"

"Because it was the Vikings who actually first settled in this area almost one thousand years ago," The two of you said in unison. You paused and glanced at him. Elijah grinned

"I'm impressed," He remarked, seeming to evaluate you a second time. You shrugged.

"History is kinda my life," You admitted, a little bit sheepishly. "That being said, what might you be looking for?"

He waved a hand dismissively. "I'd hate to bother you with my research, it's bound to be dull. Besides, I'm sure you must be quite eager to get back to your, ah... study of the unconscious mind." His lips twitched upward in just the suggestion of a smirk. You huffed, placing a hand to your chest in foux offense.

"Ah, I see how it is," You laughed. "Fall asleep on the job one time and you're branded for life."

He raised a brow playfully. "Are you positive it was just the one time?"

"I don't feel obliged to disclose that information," You hummed.

Elijah chuckled. "I see."

"Regardless, it's against government policy to allow civilians to handle fragile historic documents without supervision of an archive historian," You informed, shrugging.

"I can assure you, I've handled such documents many times before," Elijah insisted.

You blinked and let the smirk drop from your face. "True as that may be, you said earlier that this research is for your dissertation - i.e. you haven't yet graduated and/or obtained your degree. Thus I am still required by law to watch you like a hawk." You tilted your head and flashed him a tight smile. "Sorry, bud." Your tone was as much a warning as it was an informative statement.

Elijah opened his mouth to say something but quickly thought better of it. "Point taken," He conceded, nodding though it was a little stiff.

"It's not that I mean to be a stickler but, uh..." You hissed. "Wait, no, yeah I am absolutely a stickler."

"I disagree, you take your duties of historical preservation seriously - I admire that. Please note that I am in no way attempting to undermine you," Elijah promised, moving to sit at the desk. "I simply do not wish to make a burden of myself."

You huffed a laugh. "You're not a burden, Elijah. I'm genuinely glad you're here, giving me a chance to do my actual job for once. I didn't go to college for six years only to end up reading children's books to second graders every Friday afternoon."

"This isn't the carrier you would have chosen?" He asked, frowning slightly.

"Oh heck no." You shook your head, laughing softly. "With my degree I could be working at the Smithsonian."

"And would you like that?"

"It's only been my dream since I was a kid," You said, smiling wryly. "I love research - it's like a treasure hunt or a puzzle, except you have no clue what anything looks like. You just have to piece it together however you see best until the picture reveals itself."

"That's a beautiful way to look at it." Elijah smiled. "In that case, perhaps you could begin by helping me find every map, census, or property survey of areas in this town where unusual amounts of human remains have been found."

How he managed to say that with a completely straight face, you would never know.

You blinked. "Well that got dark really fast."

He gave you a small hapless shrug. "It's not the most pleasant subject for study, I am aware."

"Not the weirdest I've heard, actually," You admitted. Shaking away your surprise and hesitation, you began making your way through the isles in search of relevant cabinets. "Can I ask what this is for or should I mind my own business?"

Eijah got up to search on his own but continued talking to you as he did. "While I was in Salem researching the witch trials, I heard stories of a group of supposed witches who migrated to North-Western Virginia in order to escape persecution. All accounts led me to determine Mystic Falls as their chosen destination and, according to the stories, these women lived in the area peacefully until it was settled by this town's so-called-founders at which time they were burned at the stake for witchcraft." He poked his head around the cabinet to look at you. "I would like to find out exactly where they were murdered," He said.

Oh... well if that was the case then he had you looking for the wrong documents.

You grinned and shoved the cabinet you were rifling through shut. "You know, that's actually pretty cool," You voiced, turning to face him. Elijah raised a brow.

"Is it?" He wondered. "Most would consider my research rather morbid."

"Well it is that," You acknowledged with a slight chuckle. You beckoned for him to follow as you switched isles. "But it's also really awesome. I mean, it's almost kinda like detective work, right?"

"How do you figure?" He asked, moving with you as you perused the cabinet labels. You knew what you were looking for, you just had to find the bloody thing.

"Well, obviously the people responsible for the killings of these innocent women are long dead. The perpetrators can't be punished; yet, you're still trying to validate these deaths and make sure that these women are documented. I guess that's kind of like finding the victims of the Zodiac Killer or something - you may not be able to seek justice for their deaths but at least you can make sure they're acknowledged." You glanced up only to find Elijah staring at you with an odd expression on his face. His stare was intense and piercing, you felt yourself blushing under the intensity of it. You shrugged, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Or maybe I just have no clue what I'm talking about... Anyway, this is what we're looking for," You muttered, nudging a rather large drawer with your foot.

"This right here?" He pointed, seeming to snap out of whatever thoughts he'd been lost in.

"Yep." You pushed your hair back. "You're gonna have to help me though." Elijah's brows pulled together and you just sighed. "There's a really, really heavy trunk in here."

"Oh, I see." He bent down, gripping the handle and you followed suit. "On three?"

"Or we could just yank really hard?" You suggested.

He grinned, smiling wryly. "That could work."

"Okay, go!"

Together you pulled on the drawer with as much strength as you could muster, slowly dragging it out. The old metal tracks squealed as they slid against one another, and the cabinet groaned with the weight of its contents. Inside the drawer was an old leather trunk, battered and worn, bearing more locks on it than any sane man would ever find reasonable. In, fancy, bold handwriting, the lid bore the inscription: FORBES. The sheriff and her daughter had donated the truck to the Historical Society about a year ago and you had spent months going through everything they had managed to stuff in there.

"I'm convinced little Caroline Forbes is a wizard," You declared, huffing as you rummaged through the stacks of old papers in search of one specific little book. "Cuz there is no way one person can fit that much stuff into one trunk without some use of magic."

Elijah seemed baffled as well, though he wasn't nearly as winded as you were. That fact probably had something to do with the extraordinarily fine biceps he was hiding under that expensive suit, which you had not failed to notice.

"What exactly is all of this?" He asked, carefully fingering a stack of what appeared to be bird sketches.

"This is hardly the tip of the iceberg," You answered, unable to stop the grin spreading across your face. "All the founding families hoard area history like it's gold; this is only what they've deemed unimportant enough to their little counsel for me to see." Finally, you found what you'd been searching for. You drew the little leather-bound book from under a stack of accounting papers and held it high in the air. "Ah ha!"

"Is that a journal?" Elijah asked with no small note of skepticism.

"Not just any journal, my good friend," You declared. "This is quite possibly the most interesting journal in all of Mystic Falls. May I present to you, the journal of Mr. Alexander Forbes."

"And why should I be interested in such a diary?" He wondered.

You raised a brow at him. "Did you honestly think a bunch of pompous, well-to-do, small towns folk would document that time they brutally murdered a group of innocent women becasue they wanted their land?" You deadpanned. He blinked, clearly stunned by your blunt comment. You continued. "If you wanna find out about this town's sketchy history, the adults won't tell you anything. That's why I like kids, they tell the truth whether they realize it or not. Take little Alexander Forbes, he would have made an excellent detective had he not died at age sixteen." You wandered back to the desk at the front of the room and laid the journal down with care, pulling one of the lamps closer, you adjusted the light so it wouldn't harm the pages. "Alex here, wrote stories about the things no one talked about..." You flipped through the book until you landed on the page you'd been thinking of. The heading read: The Garden of Skulls. You grinned. "Like a mansion on the edge of town surrounded by the ghosts of dead witches, perhaps?"

You glanced up to see the grin that twisted Elijah's lips as his eyes skimmed over the yellowed journal entry. "That sounds like a lead," He murmured.

"That it does." You smirked, glancing at the man out of the corner of your eye. "You up for a scavenger hunt?"

Tagging: @yn-ymn-yln @r13mar @rootbeerfaygo @iiskittles16ii @fandomrulesall-blog @dark-night-sky-99 @railingsofsorrow @apolloroid @thatweirdoleigh @misswe03 @eat-cake @felinegrate @trikigirl271 Hey there, people of the internet! If you want on or off the tag list for this series and/or all my other works, just send me a DM to let me know! And if Tumblr won't let me tag you, I'll just send you a friendly DM reminder at your request. Thanks for reading!

#elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah x reader #elijah mikealson imagine #my name is cas and i write stuff #fanfic #fluff #the originals #the vampire diaries #kol mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson #fan fiction #fan fic #the originals fan fiction #the vampire diaries fan fic #tvd #tvd fanfic #tvdu #kol mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson x reader #rebekah mikaelson x reader #fluffy fluff #napping #napping on the job #we all make mistakes #the council is pretentious #klaus x reader #kol x reader #reader insert

[moonbeamoclock]

Hot take that shouldn’t be a hot take:

my biggest pet peeve is when people tag something as a x reader but it’s actually an oc…..i got to the last chapter of a fic only for the description of the ‘reader’ to be of a white person.

then the author got nasty with me after i called her out about it but that’s whatever

it takes an extra 2 mins to have a generic description of a person rather then give the details of their appearance but some of y’all are just too lazy to do even that

#x reader #reader insert #x oc #fan fiction #fem reader #x gn reader #x gn y/n #original character #x you fluff #x you #x y/n #poc reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #billy hargrove x reader #jake seresin x reader #bob floyd x reader #joel miller x reader #ghost simon riley #harry potter x reader #steve harrington x reader #aot x you #klaus mikaelson x reader #dick grayson x reader #konig x reader #eddie munson x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #writers #poc representation

[wholoveseggs]

~Your local egg carton~

{masterlist}

18+

THANK YOU so much for all your love and support; it truly means the world to me. lets get cracking!

Warnings: Its all mostly smut (or soon to be published smut)

~Series♡~ ~One Shots♡~ ~Requests♡~ ~Headcanons♡~

~Five days of Fluffmas♡~ ~Moodboards♡~

~About me?

hi :) my name is Lissa ♡♡

I've been writing for myself for a long time, but this is the first place I've posted it publicly. I'm thrilled so many people like my work! Especially for a show that's been over for five years~

If you have any questions or requests feel free to ask! (or if you just want to say hi!)

PS: if you know any good Elijah blogs please tag me ;) I'm looking to befriend some fellow girlies 🥰 xo-Lissa

☆☆Smut writing tips☆☆ ♡♡ One-Hundred Followers Celebration ♡♡ ❀❀ Tag-list ❀❀ Check out #lissa responds for all my replies If you rather read on Ao3- Link is here

#lissa responds #the originals #elijah mikaelson #elijah mikealson smut #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikealson x reader #elijah mikealson imagine #elijah mikealson one shot #elijah mikaelson smut #elijah mikaelson imagine #the vampire diaries #tvdu #ao3 #fan fiction #elijah mikaelson masterlist #masterlist #tvd #elijahmikaelson #elijah mikaelson x y/n #elijah mikaelson x oc #elijah mikaelson x female reader #elijah mikaelson x you #elijah mikaelson x fem!reader #imagine #fanfiction #Elijah Mikaelson fanfiction

[forktutwtt]

Fionna and Cake really just went “What if we make Marceline and Bubblegum mortal enemies in a post apocalypse where they constantly try to kill eachother while bantering in the most ridiculously horny way possible?”

And then also said “What if they were men in a normal human world but even gayer, with one as an autistic baker twink and the other as a hot punk rebel? And then they have a plot about both of them sacrificing major opportunities to make the other happy before culminating in them rejecting the shallow capitalist world around them to just appreciate a life they can share and then they kiss as the elevator doors close?”

And then they ALSO said, “What if those were the same episode and we were constantly cutting between the stories at their most dramatic points?”

You see, this is how you do multiversal story telling: Literally just write fan fiction.

#fionna and cake #adventure time #fionna and cake spoilers #honestly the show feeling like fan fiction is also extremely warranted given that parodying fan fiction was the entire point originally #this show is genius on multiple levels

[quiddling]

i am literally on my HANDS and KNEES for u n. sewell

#i really am kicking my legs and giggling #replayed book 1&2 NOW ONTO BOOK 3 WISH ME LUCK #my art #andrew kingston #twc #wayhaven detective #original character #the wayhaven chronicles #digital art #drawing #art #fan art #procreate #oc #interactive fiction #wayhaven chronicles #choice of games #nat sewell #natalie sewell #twc nat #N sewell #twc n #twc n sewell

[spirk-trek]

Consort Fanzine | Dorothy Laoang, 1986

#spirk #star trek #spock #fan art #star trek tos #star trek the original series #captain kirk #vintage #the kiss #edvard munch #hurt/comfort #the original series #fandom #fanzines #1980s #drawing #sketch #k/s #the premise #sci fi #science fiction #queer history #art

[mountainsandmayhem]

Little Dove - A Series

(Joel Miller x female!reader)

18+

Series Summary: After sending both your daughters off to college, you and Joel find yourself to be empty nesters in your early 40’s. However, all that alone time has it’s perks, most of which are kinky.

TW: reach each chapters for specific warnings. 18+

A/N: The love I received from the first story has sent my brain into high gear. I have zero timeline for these stories and they may not come out in the order listed below. The story summaries could change as I write. 🙏🏻 please let me know which you’re most excited for or if you want to be tagged 🙏🏻

🤍🕊️🤍 •• 🤍🕊️🤍 •• 🤍🕊️🤍 •• 🤍🕊️🤍

You’re Mine, Little Dove

A walk at night starts with ropes, blindfolds, and ends with the best orgasms of your life, and an even better twist at the end.

Kink: Predator/Prey

Stay Still, Little Dove

Joel reminds you that his wishes are your commands during an interesting bet between you two.

Kink: Vibrator Torture, Pleasure Dom

Taste Her, Little Dove

Joel watches as you explore a new side of yourself.

You’re a Brat, Little Dove

At your 25-year high school reunion, an old classmates is enamoured with your partner; you can’t say that you blame her, but it sparks enough jealousy for you to decide to get Joel’s attention.

Kink: Brat Tamer, Spanking, Dom/Sub

Do Your Worst, Little Dove

Joel gets a taste of his own medicine.

Kink: Role reversal, domme/sub

You're Perfect, Little Dove

Insecurities from the past send you spiralling in a way that only Joel can fix.

Kink: Praise, Pleasure Dom

Touch Yourself, Little Dove

Joel discovers how much he likes to watch.

Kink: Voyeurism

Additional Materials

Thank You @survivingandenduring for this GORGEOUS edit of Joel and his Little Dove.

#pedrofanfic #pedroispunk #pedropascal #joel tlou #joel x female reader #joel miller x original character #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fan fiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller tlou #joel x reader #joel miller smut #smut #dom!joel miller #sub joel miller #daddy joel