@vikoris​​          ♡’d  !

❝         am   i   supposed   to   know   what   you're   talking   about?         ❞   

     ‘     something  wrong      ?      ’               -             @vikoris​   .          still  accepting   .

       world  stops  spinning  for  a  moment   .          eyes  go  blank  as  her  sensitive  nose  catches  onto  the  scent  of  his  blood  soaked  shirt   .                ‘            take  it  off   .          please   .            ’              her  voice  is  pleading  as  veins  grow  visible  below  her  eyes   .        it  almost  comes  too  much  to  bear  for  her  ,        even  her  breathing  grows  difficult  .               ‘          nik  ,      please  .           i  need  to       -            ’

@vikoris​ said: ✐

❝  it  was  love,  i  knew,  and  it  tasted  like  champagne  in  my  mind.  ❞  she  says,  a  serene  look  upon  her  face.

@vikoris​  ASKED,  “  𝒊’𝒎  𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒅  𝒐𝒇  𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔  𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈  𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕  𝒊’𝒗𝒆  𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 .   ” (𝒓𝒖𝒃𝒚)

         𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐍’𝐓 𝐖𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐎𝐑 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑?   ruby is no longer the person she was before . . that girl feels so far away that she’s not even within grasp.  so far away in the back of her mind that she struggles to remember what it was like to be normal, to be happy, to not have blood soaking into her skin.   she’s are no longer sweet,  she’s dangerous.    (   they should fear that !   the things she’d do to them if allowed, but alas she isn’t.  instead, ruby takes to her imagination.   )     ❝  aren’t we all ? ❞   head tilts in a curious manner after question is asked.     ruby once understood his sentiment,  but now she doesn’t even   𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙽𝙴𝙲𝚃   to it.     ;      ❝  i used to be afraid of myself, of what i’d become.  ❞    what they made you, a killer.    ❝  their blood would stain my hands, my cloths.  sticky, wet, warm,  && i’d shudder at the thought of what i’d just done.   but,  not anymore.  ❞   head of brown hair gives the slightest shake, brows drawing together only a little.   eyes peer off away from klaus into the woods as if she were lost in thought or perhaps it was memory?     ❝ anything is better than feeling empty, trust me !   even if that feeling is   𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖗𝖔𝖗   of yourself or joy for the thing that made you feel something. ❞   switchblade is taken into hand, flipped open quickly so eyes can settle on it.    ❝  embrace who you’re becoming.   don’t hide from it.  it’s a lot more fun that way─  ❞   wicked grin crosses painted lips. 

@vikoris​          ♡’d  !

❝         maybe   it's   me   and   my   blind   optimism   to   blame.         ❞

you write harley so well, i very easily hear her voice in every piece of dialogue you give her!! i can't help but to stop and read what you put out and you're just a huge inspiration! 💖

˚・`   ♥   [ Q ]   :    how  is  my  portrayal  ?      ─     @vikoris 

excuse  me  while  i  go  cry  in  a  corner  because  you  have  no  idea  what  this  means  to  me    ,    i  adore  u    ♡  ♡  ♡

❝ you bit off more than you can chew. ❞

rage   is   as   blinding   and   white   hot   as   pain.         the   former   flares   upon   hearing   what   appears   to   be         a   smug   comment         on   the   situation.            “         do   you   want   to   make   any   more   obvious   observations?         “               rhetorical   question   is   posed   through   gritted   teeth.      the   aftermath   of   a   fight   left   him   with   arm   contorted   in   an   unnatural   way,         waking   face   down   on   the   floor.         not   his   finest   moment.            bones   crack   and   a   pained   grunt   rips   through   throat   as   injury   corrects   itself.            he   stands,         facing   the   hybrid.               “            your   sister   has         a   worse   temper         than   you.      “       /   @vikoris

@vikoris​          ♡’d  !

❝         if   you're   going   to   kill   me   ,   go   ahead   and   do   it         —         i'm   not   telling   you   anything.         ❞

❝ you are making it very difficult to keep you alive. ❞

     𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐬,     𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺,    𝘴𝘵𝘢����𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩.             from the first drop of blood that sealed his fate as vampire,    matthew has had not another drink ;      denial,    denying,    clinging to human morality so that he might preserve what is left of his old self   ( as shitty as that life was ).       it’s all he’s been capable of,   for if anyone could stave a new born vampire’s hunger,   it would be someone as stubborn as mattie.      “       i didn’t realize you’d cared, klaus.       “

         𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐲’𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐞,    𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘧 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘯.         there were many such instances like that which made little sense,   and yet panged with a  nostalgia he wasn’t sure he could name as his own,   but felt regardless.          from the birthmark on his chest, in the shape of claws digging for his heart, to that damned taste of iron in his mouth.           most days the phantom pain of nostalgia finds itself put at bay,   held back behind a tide,  but the closer he walked through a tight knit crowd,   the more it hurts.   like something is trying to crack his chest open and rip out what’s inside.      

                                                                                         “ excuse me, “    he apologies.  

in the midst of his pain, his shoulder is numb when it connects with another’s visage;  loosely described as tall and dark clothed...    his face is a blur before unfocused eyes, as a ringing in his ears sounding more like howls than an annoying trill, beckons him to remember.         remember.         remember !     but he can’t, and so he pushes forward a step,  then two,  and then three.

                                @vikoris​ liked for a random reincarnation starter !

            “   i   prefer   to   ask   forgiveness   rather   than   permission   .   makes   things   EASIER   ,   don’t   you   think   ?   though   ...   i   often   forget   to   ask   that   too   .   ”   

@vikoris​  ​ ♡’d

&.       .      .      .       @vikoris​     /     sc.

a placid smile forms,     calm exterior masking the turmoil that rushes within.   prideful in the way he stands, like a wolf marking territory claimed long ago.   his fingers tighten into fists, slowly loosening before reaching deep into his pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes.     “   smoke ?   ”     he asks, angling the pack towards but doesn’t wait for an answer before plucking one out for himself and placing it in between his lips.     “   the way i see it is, what’s mine is mine, what’s yours is yours. that’s not so hard to understand   .   .   .   is it ?   ”

@vikoris​​   ,   tiny starter !

“    can’t    you    do    your    normal    thing    and    go    kill    him    already    ?    ”    patience    wears    thin    ,    attention    shifting    to    her    cellular    device    to    check    the    time    .    “    he’s    technically    already    dead    ,    the    bachelor    starts    in    an    hour    and    you’re    driving    us    back    to    town    so    .    .    .    chop    chop    !    ”

continued from ¨¨¨ // @vikoris​

The wound has been forgotten until the softness of his thumb ghosts over it.     It’s far from a fatal injury, already healed, mostly, a mere itch brought forth to awareness, indicating that it’s healing up under his gaze. But the fury in Klaus’ eyes, etched into his expression, befitted an execution. That she could understand  —  any injury beheld upon Klaus felt like a dagger to her own chest, a betrayal to her own body. He was all she had left of Hope. Remains of their daughter in blue eyes, thick hair, dimples popping in his cheeks in the rare moments ( too rare now, non-existent these days ) of happiness. Or glee, which is more common. 

❝ It’s fine. ❞ Taking his hand away, fingers circling his wrist. ❝ They’re dead. ❞ Her other hand presses, hard, against the closing slit in her lip, wipes up the last remains of blood. Smears it across Klaus’ lips. The sharp, delicious scent of blood tinges the fresh air, her own blood, pressed into his mouth. ❝ All gone now. ❞ It’s low, dangerous to anyone but him. 

SING  TO  ME  MUSE  OF  A  GIRL  BIRTHED  FROM  BLOOD,  of  painted  red  lips  and  jaws  of  a  lion.  remember  the  first  taste  of  vengeance,  the  unleashing  of  furor    :      of  what  it  finally  felt  to  be  free.  you  have  revelled  in  your  new  self,  lion-hearted  elektra,  the  taste  of  hades  a  feast  for  your  lips.  no  longer  do  fear  and  regret  snap  at  her  heels,  just  as  a  pack  of  hounds  after  the  dead  mans  corpse,  nor  is  her  mind  filled  with  the  cries  of  lament,  she  is  no  longer  a  woman  ready  with  a  funeral  dirge.  instead  it  is  ira  who  visits  the  daughter  of  agamemnon,  rageful  ares  swift  at  her  side.   “  does  it  ever  grow  old     ------     the  killings  that  is?  will  my  mouth  ever  sigh  at  the  taste  of  sweet  flesh,  do  you  ever  grow  tired  of  the  power?  ”  a  glance  is  cast  towards  the  man  before  her,  winged  words  slipping  from  blood  soaked  lips.  as  eyes  cast  back  to  the  man  of  the  floor  resolve  hardens,  conviction  flooding  her  breath,  “  i  won’t.  how  can  other’s  claim  we’re  death  things?  this,  this  is  the  most  alive  i’ve  ever  felt. ”  for  what  is  death  to  you  now,  vengeful  elektra,  wrapped  in  thanatos’  cruel  embrace,  you  have  watched  the  light  leave  countless  men’s  eyes,  watched  the  dark  hand  of  death’s  inevitable  approach  and  yet  even  still  it  is  not  enough.  it  will  never  be  enough.  not  until  a  stake  strikes  straight  through  your  mother’s  heart.  

@vikoris  :   liked  for  a  starter.

@vikoris​  said  :  "  do  you  have  any  idea  what  you're  capable  of?  "  +  hope  mikaelson.

❛     yes,     i’m  pretty  freaking  aware  of  what  i’m  capable  of.     ❜     so  aware  that  it’s  overwhelming.     the  power  she  has,     what  she  can  do  scares  her  sometimes.     hope  knows  what  aunt  freya  would  say  or  even  what  her  mom  would’ve  said.     that  she  wouldn’t  hurt  anyone.     and  she  knows  she  really  doesn’t  want  to.     but,     she’s  painfully  aware  that  she’s  capable  of  it.     some  days,     like  today,     she  wishes  she  was  normal.     it  was  why  she  left  the  salvatore  school  for  a  few  hours  to  spend  time  with  a  particular  crush  of  hers.     landon.     she  just  didn’t  think  she  would  get  caught.     ❛     i  just  wanted  to  be  normal,     for  a  day.     it’s  not  that  big  of  deal,     dad.     ❜